Truly enough his little sister was in great trouble.  But a minute before Spry, the kitten, had strayed away from the mother-cat, and Lucy and she had got into mischief already.

Master Sunshine made haste to lift the kitten from Lucy’s shoulder, where it had taken refuge; and he was very sorry to see that the sharp claws of the little paws had made their marks on her plump neck.

“Kiss it p’ease, and make it well,” begged Lucy tearfully as she climbed on his knee; while the kitten, after looking nervously around, sought refuge in Master Sunshine’s coat-pocket.

“Lucy was dwessin’ kitty in dollie’s clothes, and it went ‘spitz!’ and runned up her shoulder,” wept Lucy.

Master Sunshine kissed the smarting neck, and cuddled the pet in his arms.

“Buzzer will slap kitty for biting sister wiz its finder nails,” she begged.

“Brother will show sister how to be kind to kitty,” he answered, as he drew the trembling ball of fur from its hiding-place, and stroked it with a tender hand.  “Spry is not a dolly, and does not like to wear dollie’s clothes.  Lucy will rub her under her chin just above the white star on her breast, and she will sing a pretty cat-song to show how happy she is, and brother will show Lucy how to lift kitty by the loose skin about her neck.  Lucy must play she is mother-cat whenever she plays with Spry.”

And at the prospect of such a new and delightful game Lucy dried her eyes, and called him her “dee, dee Suns’ine.”

And then, what do you suppose?  Why, she just laid her tear-stained face up against his shoulder, and opened her rosy mouth in a great yawn, and dropped quietly off to sleep.

But Master Sunshine’s thoughts were not quite so care-free as Lucy’s.  “Next time I must be a better brother,” he said to himself; and when his mother came to carry the baby to her crib, he would not let her give him a word of praise.  “I am too ashamed to tell you why, mother,” he said; “but after this I mean to take better care of my little sister.”

The rain kept falling steadily, and after dinner, when mamma had gone to lie down, and Almira Jane was washing up the dishes, Master Sunshine was drumming on the window-pane, and wondering what he should do the whole long afternoon.  Just then Tommy Dane came running up towards the house, and behind him scampered a dog, very like Gyp, who, when he heard the familiar bark, put his paws on the window-sill, and wagged his tail with delight; while Daisy, meowing to Spry to follow her, fled hastily up the kitchen stairway.

“Mother said I might bring Tim over and have you teach him tricks this afternoon,” announced Tommy, shaking the rain off his coat.

“Tim is not a smart dog, like your Gyp.  He does not seem to be able to think.  I almost wish I had taken Gyp when I had the chance.”

Master Sunshine and Tommy had got their dogs from the same litter of puppies, and Tommy had had the first choice.