"Put them up in the hen-house to-night," she said, "and to-morrow I will look at them and we will fix the price." The boys went to bed early that night, but had hardly settled themselves to sleep when Melissa, the little servant-girl, rushed in with a light in her hand. "O, git up, boys, git up! Sompen's in de hen-house, killin' all de fowls." They jumped up and huddled on their clothes as fast as they could, then ran after Melissa, who held the light while they armed themselves with sticks. There was a great stir, sure enough, in the hen-house,--fowls were cackling and screaming with fright, and a curious snapping sound came from one corner. When the light fell here they saw a rough, hairy little animal, with small bright eyes like a pig, and a long smooth tail. But, worst of all, one of the beautiful white Leghorns lay before it, all mangled and bleeding. The horrid creature was tearing its soft body, and would hardly stop eating when the children attacked him. At last Melissa caught up a stick, and killed the little beast with a quick blow. She held it up in triumph by its long tail. It looked very much like a little pig, and had five fingers, like toes, on each foot. "'Tis a 'possum," said Melissa, "and very good to eat. I's right glad _I_ kill it, cos now 'tis mine." [Illustration: {MELISSA AND THE BOYS WITH THE DEAD OPOSSUM.}] "You are welcome to it," said Ned, half crying. "What shall we do now our pretty Leghorn rooster is dead? We can't go to the circus." Next morning they told their tale at the breakfast-table. "Never mind," said their father; "I think you may go, after all, as I owe you something for killing the opossum. He would have destroyed the rest of the fowls." "Yes; but, papa, Melissa killed it; we only struck at it." "Well, I think I must treat the whole party, as all did their best. We will set a trap to-day for the next opossum that may come to see us." The boys and Melissa went to the circus, and enjoyed all they saw, and Melissa had a fine opossum stew into the bargain. PINK HUNTER. VIRGINIA. HOW ROY WENT A FISHING. Roy had fished in the ditch by the side of the road a great many times; but he had only a bent pin for a fish-hook, and a piece of twine for a line. He never caught any fish there. When he was six years old his uncle James gave him a real fish-hook and a line, and after a good deal of coaxing his mother said that he might go down the cow-path to the brook and fish for trout. Uncle James caught a great many trout in the brook. Alice wanted to go with Roy; and Roy, who is very kind to his sister, asked his mother to let her go. Alice carried the basket,--a pretty large one. Mary, the cook, told them to be sure and get it full of fish, so that she could fry them for dinner. How proud and happy they were! Their mother could see them from the window all the time.