Rose O'Paradise

"Hot dish water, stones at me have been thrown, And one of my hind legs is lame; No wonder I run when I know the boys Come to see if I'm tame.

"I've a friend in the country, and he's nobody's dog, And his burdens're heavy as mine, He told me one day the boys had once tied A tin can to his tail with a line.

"Now they talk in the churches of God and his Son, Of Paradise, Heaven and Hell; Of a Savior who came on earth for mankind, And for His children all should be well.

"Now I'd like to know if God didn't make me, And cause me to live and all that? I believe there's a place for nobody's child, And also for nobody's cat."

Mr. Grandoken lifted misty eyes.

"It's fine," he said, "an' every word true!... Every single word."

The next morning Jinnie went to the basket behind the stove. The cat was dead,--dead, in the same position in which she had left him the night before, and close to his nose was the meat Peggy had tried to entice him to eat. She lifted the basket and carried it into the shop.

"Poor little feller," said Lafe. "I 'spose you'll have to bury him, lass."

Bobbie edged forward, and felt for Jinnie's fingers.

"Bury him on the hill, dearie, where you found me," he whispered. "It's lovely there, and he can see my stars."

"All right," replied Jinnie, dropping her hand on the boy's golden head.

That afternoon, just before the funeral, Jinnie stood quietly in front of the cobbler.

"Lafe," she said, looking at him appealingly, "the kitty's happy even if he is dead, isn't he?"

"Sure," replied Lafe. "His angels've got charge of him, all right."

"I was wondering something," ventured the girl, thoughtfully. "Couldn't we take him in the 'Happy in Spite'?... Eh, Lafe?"

Lake looked at her in surprise.

"I never thought of takin' anything dead in the club," said he dubiously.

"But he's happy, you said, Lafe?"

"He's happy enough, yes, sure!"

"Then let's take him in," repeated Jinnie eagerly.

"Let's take 'im in, cobbler," breathed Bobbie, pressing forward. "He wants to come in."

They lifted the cover of the basket, and there in quietude the barn-cat was sleeping his long last sleep.

Jinnie lifted one of the stiff little paws, and placed it in Lafe's fingers. The cobbler shook it tenderly.

"You're in the club, sir," said he in a thick, choked voice. Then Jinnie and Bobbie, carrying their precious dead comrade, started for the hill.