Teddy started off with the jelly, and in half an hour he came rushing back with his face beaming.

“Oh, mother,” he called.  “Mrs. Atwood says that Mrs. Carter will give her a stove for her sitting room, but she thinks it’s going to cost a lot to get it moved.  It’s only a little one, and do you s’pose I could take it over from Mrs. Carter’s in my cart?”

“I’m sure you could, if it’s not very big,” mother answered heartily.  “I guess Mrs. Carter’s son would lift it in for you, and we could find some man to get it out at Mrs. Atwood’s.”

Teddy ran to the cellar for the Eastern Mail and in a few minutes it was rattling down the street towards Mrs. Carter’s.

“I’ve come to move that stove over to Mrs. Atwood’s,” he explained politely, when Mrs. Carter opened the door.

“Do you think it will go in your cart?” the lady asked in surprise.  “Wait just a minute, and I’ll get my son to see if he thinks it can go in that way.”

Rob Carter was as sure as Teddy himself, and in a little while the stove was aboard, and Teddy was carefully drawing the Eastern Mail to Mrs. Atwood’s, and Rob Carter went along to steady the stove and lift it out when they got there.

“I can’t thank you enough,” Mrs. Atwood said when the stove was in place.  “It’s helped me a lot to get the stove brought over.”

And as the Eastern Mail turned toward home she slipped a couple of lovely cookies into its owner’s hand.

WHY MINNIE COULD NOT SLEEP.

She sat up in bed.  The curtain was drawn up and she saw the moon, and it looked as if it were laughing at her.

“You need not look at me, moon,” she said.  “You don’t know about it; you can’t see in the daytime.  Besides, I am going to sleep.”

She lay down and tried to go to sleep.  Her clock on the mantel went “tick-tock, tick-tock.”  She generally liked to hear it, but to-night it sounded just as if it said, “I know, I know, I know.”

“You don’t know, either,” said Minnie, opening her eyes wide.  “You weren’t there, you old thing!  You were upstairs.”

Her loud noise awoke the parrot.  He took his head from under his wing and cried out, “Polly did!”

“That’s a wicked story, you naughty bird,” said Minnie.  “You were in grandma’s room; so now!”

Then Minnie tried to go to sleep again.  She lay down and counted white sheep, just as grandma said she did when she couldn’t sleep.  But there was a big lump in her throat.  “Oh, I wish I hadn’t!”

Pretty soon there came a very soft patter of four little feet, and her pussy jumped upon the bed, kissed Minnie’s cheek, and then began to “pur-r-r-r, pur-r-r.”  It was very queer, but that, too, sounded as if pussy said, “I know, I know.”

“Yes, you do know, kitty,” said Minnie, and then she threw her arms around kitty’s neck and cried bitterly.  “And—­I guess—­I want—­to—­see—­my—­mamma!”