Sport stopped his nonsense of playing with a stick, and began to look serious. Then he made a bee-line for the nearest turning on the right, on the way home. This was an old lane, on which some old gardens backed, and which led, by a little longer way, to Brook Cottage. By the time the children had arrived at the head of the lane, Sport was seen galloping back in a state of great excitement. "Bow-wow!"--"Oh, you have found her, have you, old fellow?"--"Bow-wow!"--"Well and good! You are a jolly old Sport!" On the step of the gate of an old garden sat Elfrida, fast asleep, with her empty basket in her lap. Emma proposed to tickle her nose with a straw. "No! I will pull that thick braid of hair," said Susan. "No! let me whisper in her ear," said James. But, before anybody did any thing, Sport settled the question by putting his paws up on her shoulders, and crying, "Bow-wow!" Elfrida started, and looked around as if in a dream. "What does it mean? How long have I been here?" cried she. "Why did you go to sleep?" asked the two girls. "Yes, why, why, did you go to sleep?" echoed all the boys. "Oh, that's my secret," said Elfrida. "Now who can catch me in my run to Mr. Spicer's?" So off she started, followed by Sport and all the children. "Now tell us why did you go to sleep?" said the children, as they were all on their way home, after she had made her purchases. "Will you promise not to tell anybody, if I tell you?" asked Elfrida. "We promise, we promise!" cried all the children. "Now, then, why did you go to sleep?"--"Hush! I went to sleep because--because--because I was sleepy," said Elfrida. ARTHUR SELWYN. [Illustration] THE PRAIRIE-DOG MY friend John lives in Colorado, not far from Denver; and he writes me, that he and his sister, not long ago, walked out to see some prairie-dogs. The prairie-dog is about the size of a full-grown squirrel, and of a like color. It makes a hole for itself in the ground. This hole is in the shape of a tunnel, and as large round as a man's hat. [Illustration] Now, this little dog is so gentle, that he lets the owl and the rattlesnake come and live with him, if they like. All three are often found dwelling together. For my part, I should not much like such neighbors. The prairie-dogs live on the roots of grass. Scattered all around the entrance to their homes, you may see remnants of the dry roots which they have got for food. They are quick in their movements, and quite playful. Johnny writes me, that, when some of these little dogs saw him and his sister approaching, they sat down on their hind-legs, and began barking. Then they dropped into their holes backwards. As Johnny did not care to wake up any of the other lodgers, he and his sister went home, well content with their first sight of a prairie-dog. AUNT ALICE. [Illustration] STRUT