I am a little girl ten years old. I live in Arizona, where the great silver mines are, and where the cactus grows forty feet high. There were only three white families in this place when we came, three years ago. The place was called Picket Post then, because soldiers were stationed here. I have several pets. Nuisance is my pet deer. She is almost two years old, and is as tame as my cat. She wears a red collar, so hunters will not kill her. Bub is my pet donkey. I love my Arizona pets very much, but not so much as my dear pet grandma, whom we left in Chicago. When papa strikes it rich, we are going home to her.
Pearl R. Brown.
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.
I have had a great many different kinds of pets, but two that amused me the most were Charley, a snow-white rabbit, and Jet, a black kitten. The two were good friends, and played together, and ate out of the same dish. One day bunny stole a large red rose, and came running into the house with it in his mouth, and Jet at his heels. The deep red of the rose, the snowy rabbit, and black Jet made a picture pretty enough to paint. After a while bunny became very troublesome, and ate the paper off the dining-room wall as high as he could reach. Then he was sent away, and Jet seemed lonely for days. Soon after he disappeared, and my pets since have been birds and dogs, but none were brighter and prettier than Jet and Charley.
Aggie R. H.
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.
The alligator I told you about [Post-office No. 19] was finally found in a dark corner of the cellar. It only lived two days after we found it.
Puss.