So she flew up to the door of the house; but, to her surprise, she could not get through it: the opening was not large enough. "Well, Mr. Starling," said she, "I do believe we have made a mistake. This is not our house, after all." "Why did you say it was, then?" said Mr. Starling, in a huff. "Here I have got a black eye, and a lame claw, and a sprained wing, and have lost two feathers out of my tail, all through your blunder. You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Mrs. Starling!" "I own that I was hasty," said poor Mrs. Starling; "but I meant well." "Yes, you thought the sparrows were thieves, and so did I. But it turns out, that we are no better than burglars ourselves; and, what's more, we shall have a whole army of sparrows back upon us before long. We had better take ourselves off." And off they flew. DORA BURNSIDE. KATIE AND WAIF. I AM Katie Sinclair, and Waif is my dog. Now, as everybody who knows him says he is the nicest dog in the world, I will tell my "Nursery" friends why people think so. First I must tell you how I got him, and how he came to have such an odd name. One cold, rainy day, about three years ago, I heard a strange noise under the window, and ran to the door to see what it was. There stood a homely little puppy, dripping wet, shivering from the cold, and crying, oh, so mournfully! I took him in, and held him before the fire till he was dry and warm. Then I got him some nice fresh milk, which he drank eagerly; and he looked up in my face in such a thankful way, that he quite won my heart. "Poor little dog!" said I. "He hasn't had a very nice time in this world so far; but I will ask mamma to let him stay and be my dog." Mamma consented; and, if that dog has not enjoyed himself since then, it is not my fault. I was bothered not a little to find a name for him. I wanted one, you see, that would remind me always of the way he came to me,--not a common name, such as other little dogs have. No; I did not want a "Carlo," or a "Rover," or a "Watch." After trying in vain to think of a name fit for him, I asked mamma to help me. [Illustration] She said, "Call him Waif." I was such a little goose then (that was over three years ago, you know), that I had to ask her what "Waif" meant. "A waif," said she, "is something found, of which nobody knows the owner. On that account 'Waif' would be a good name for your puppy." So I gave him that name, and he soon got to know and answer to it. Waif grew fast, and we taught him ever so many tricks. He has learned to be very useful too, as I shall show you. On a shelf in the kitchen stands a small basket, with his name, in red letters, printed upon it. To this basket he goes every morning, and barks. When Ellen the cook hears him, she takes the basket down, and places the handle in his mouth. Then he goes to mamma, and waits patiently till she is ready, when he goes down town with her, and brings back the meat for dinner.