I send you my picture, dear Johnnie, to show that I'm just as alive as you, and that you needn't cry over my fate any more, as you used to do. The wolf didn't hurt me at all that day; for I kicked and fought and cried, till he dropped me out of his mouth, and ran away in the woods to hide. And grandma and I have lived ever since in the little brown house so small, and churned fresh butter, and made cream-cheeses, nor seen the wolf at all. So cry no more for fear I'm eaten: the naughty wolf is shot, and, if you will come to tea some evening, you shall see for yourself, I'm _not_. YOURS, RED RIDING HOOD. If you would like to hear more about the Carr children, you will find their full history most charmingly written in a book called "What Katy Did;" a story by Susan Coolidge, nicely illustrated by Addie Ledyard, and published by Roberts Brothers. [Illustration] [Illustration] LITTLE MISCHIEF. I. I SHALL tell you some stories about a little girl whose name was Bessie Allen. She was so fond of being busy, that she sometimes got into sad scrapes. So people called her Little Mischief. One day she thought her papa's hat looked rough and rusty: so what did she do but wash it with a sponge wet in water. She thought she was making the hat look quite nice and shiny; but she nearly spoiled it. Her father did not like it at all when he found what she had done. He loved his little girl; but he thought her much too meddlesome. [Illustration] II. One day Bessie was at her aunt's house when the folks were away. But Carlo the dog was at home; and Bessie had her doll Cornelia to play with. At last she placed Cornelia up on the arm-chair with her arms over the back. Then seeing near by an inkstand, and a bottle of gum with a brush in it, Bessie thought she would amuse herself by painting Carlo's face with ink. This was very silly, and Carlo seemed to think so; for he struggled, and tried to get away. The brush tickled him; he did not like to taste of the ink: at last he broke away, and hid himself under the sofa. [Illustration] III. Bessie had a piece of biscuit in her pocket. She took it out, and offered it to Carlo. It was so nice to get biscuit without having to stand on his hind-legs first, or jump a great height, or do something funny to earn it, that Carlo came out. Then Bessie seized him, and tried once more to ink his face; but this time Carlo tore himself loose, and ran out of the room, knocking over the stool on which stood the inkstand, as he went. In trying to stop him, Bessie soiled her nice white frock; and the ink streamed over the carpet. Here was mischief. Next month I will tell you more stories about Bessie Allen. [Illustration] SANTA CLAUS.