MASTER FRISKY.
The story of my first meeting with Master Frisky is quite a long one; but I will tell it as briefly as possible, and then when we have once become acquainted with my little friend, we will come to some of the more interesting stories.
I was on a carriage drive among the beautiful Hampton Hills; it was June, and all the world was singing,—the birds, the brooks, and the locusts. Even the hills sang softly to themselves, but their song was so low and so tender that it was not heard by the average listener. Dame Nature, dressed in her most beautiful gown, was holding her annual carnival of beauty; and as the carriage rolled along the fair roadway, I thought how beautiful the old earth is this morning, and how grand a thing it is to live.
I was going with a friend to visit the As-
