Ned and Lau-ra were ver-y good friends, but it happened now and then that both want-ed the same thing and then, sad to say, some loud words might be heard. Ned would say, "Give me Grip-pa," and Lau-ra would an-swer, "You shan't have Grip-pa!" and Ned would say a-gain, "I will have Grip-pa," and so it would go on till some-times poor Grip-pa would run a-way. But they al-ways made up and were friends a-gain.
Grip-pa grew up a large, fine cat, and lived some years. But he was at length taken ill. He came no more to the house, but stayed in the barn and grew ver-y weak, till he could hard-ly walk. At last, one day he came walk-ing fee-bly to the house. He went in-to the kitch-en, then to the pan-try, then to the din-ing room. In-to all the rooms went Grip-pa, and in each room sat down and looked a-round, as if tak-ing a last fare-well; then slow-ly walked out of doors. It was in-deed his last vis-it. Next morn-ing poor Grip-pa was found dead.
FRANK'S BOY
Frank More had been out skat-ing near-ly the whole af-ter-noon, for there was no school this week, and the ice was in fine or-der. It was al-most dark, and he was go-ing home, skates in hand, when a poor boy a-bout as large as him-self came up and be-gan to beg from him.
"Go home with me," said Frank, "and you shall have some sup-per."
The boy went glad-ly, and on the way Frank asked him ma-ny ques-tions. When they ar-rived, Frank took him to the kitch-en, where Jane the cook gave him a warm seat and plen-ty of sup-per, for his thin face made her feel sor-ry.
When Frank had seen him com-fort-a-bly set-tled, he went up stairs to tell his fa-ther and moth-er a-bout the lad.