"Isn't it pretty?" I said, and held up the little tawny ball of fluff. "Look what lovely brown eyes it has, and what tender shades of buff and fawn are in its long ears." "Let us take him home," cried Bess, enthusiastically. "But," I asked, "how about Tramp and Tartar? They would not be gentle like Mouse." And I added, "It was lucky that they did not come with us this afternoon. They would not only have caught the little leveret, they would have killed him, too." Bess agreed. "They are very wicked for all their nice ways." And then she added dreamily, "I wonder if terriers ever go to heaven." "Begorra! if it is the holy Mother that has a fancy for the breed, I'll be bound she gets them past St. Peter. 'Dade," said Thady, "if I was the saint, I'd never shut the door in a good bitch's face." "Well," says Bess, after a little pause, "for all terriers kill things, they love us badly; and, besides, there may be rats in heaven." "How about heaven, then, being quite a perfect place?" I asked, for I must plead guilty to a strong dislike to rats. "Mum, Mum," answered Bess, impatiently, "you must leave the poor Lord a few rats, or what would his poor dogs do?" I laughed and had no answer ready, for a child's wit is generally the hardest to fight. The best being bred by simplicity and kindness of heart. A minute later I slipped back my little furry nursling into the rose-bush, and we threaded our way across the fields. As we retraced our steps no bird sang, only the faint barking of a dog in some distant farm reached our ears, and away in the hollow came the far-off sound of distant church bells. We walked along grassy fields, down dim lanes, and beside the budding wheat. Thady was to come down and get a slice of cake and a glass of milk. "With raisins, real raisins!" exclaimed Bess. The prospect of the feast opened his heart. "Begorra, I'll tell you at last," he cried, with a sly chuckle, and he bubbled over with laughter. "You shall hear all about the job. Yer leddyship," continued Thady, "has taught me to hate the thieving of a poor bird's nest, same as the blessed Virgin has taught me to be a Christian." I nodded in approbation, but did not quite understand; but then that, as Bess says, "never matters, if you're not found out." In a minute Thady went on--whilst I led both children, mounted on old Jill--and told me of an adventure of his.