Little Sir Cat scrambled under the thicket but the brambles kept catching in his boot straps and pulling him back. So he kicked them off, taking care not to burn his bare toes on the hot stubbles, and carefully felt his way through the smoke until he finally reached the nest near the heart of the thicket. There lay all the Lady Bug's children, hundreds of them huddled together, frightened and smothered nearly to death.
THE FIRE ENGINE
"Oh, I hope they are not quite dead," he said, tenderly picking up the smallest one. "But what shall I do now? How can I carry them all out?"
Then, quick as a wink, before the fire reached him, he picked them all up and put them in his hat.
"Hurry, my brave fireman!" called the Mother Lady Bug; "save my treasures."
And in less time than I can take to tell it, he carried them out of danger.
Just then up came Dapple Gray, so Little Sir Cat said good-by and rode away.
By-and-by, he whispered to Dapple Gray, "Yonder stands the lady who rode you far away. Do you want to run right by her, or do you want to stay behind this clump of bushes until she walks away?"
Dapple Gray made no reply. He stood perfectly still and didn't even peek around until the lady was out of sight. So that was answer enough for Little Sir Cat, and he rode off towards a little church, for it was vesper time and the bell was ringing for the people to come to worship. Pretty soon the organ began to play, so he stopped to listen, and so did the stars and the big moon up in the sky. They didn't move, but shone right down on the little white building. After a while he got down and led Dapple Gray into a grove of trees and lay down on some leaves for the night. And pretty soon you shall hear how he and his pony had another adventure,—unless—