'They're very clever,' said the child—'very clever indeed!'
'That kit of yours couldn't do as much,' said Jinx, looking scornfully at the kitten which lay in Rosalie's lap.
'No,' said the child; 'but she's a very dear little kit, though she doesn't jump through rings nor dance polkas.'
'Well, tastes differ,' said Jinx; 'I prefer Skirrywinks.'
'You've got a picture like mine,' said Rosalie, after a time, when she saw that Jinx seemed inclined to talk.
'Yes,' he said; 'have you one like it? I got it at Pendleton fair.'
'And so did I,' said Rosalie; the same old man gave one to me.
'Has He found you, Mr. Jinx?' said Rosalie, in a lower voice.
'Who found me? what do you mean?' said Jinx, with a laugh.
'Why, haven't you read the story about the picture?' said the child. 'It says where it is underneath.'