heels and trotted off to a far-away corner. Mr. Wood came out of the house and talked to the photographer, while Jim, after chasing around for some time trying to catch the pony, went to the stable and put a quart of oats in a measure. As soon as Baby spied that round, yellow box under Jim's arm, she trotted up to him with a gentle neigh. He caught her by the fore-top and led her to where Mr. Leatherbee was standing.

"Jest put her there," said he, pointing to a place under a big tree. Jim led her to the place and held her while Mr. Leatherbee made all his arrangements.

"Now we're ready," said he.

Baby looked pleased at this announcement, but waved her tail wildly.

Mr. Wood smiled.

"Tell Baby to keep perfectly quiet," said he to Jim, "and ask her to lower her chin a little, cast a pleasant expression around her eyes, and breathe gently."

"THE PONY STOOD QUIETLY EATING."

Mr. Leatherbee laughed at this. So did Jim; for it was exactly what the photographer always told him when he had his picture taken.

The pony thought this all very pleasant, but she wanted the oats, and, consequently, was trying to thrust her nose through Jim's back in her efforts to get at the measure.

The photographer looked despairing.

"Here, I'll fix it," said Mr. Wood, stepping up to the pony. "No, Jim, stand back; Mr. Leatherbee, are you ready?"

"Yes," answered Mr. Leatherbee, with one hand on the velvet that covered his camera.

Mr. Wood poured the oats on the ground and let go of the pony's head. For a while Baby grabbed the oats up in great haste, but finally she stood with her nose to the ground quietly eating. Mr. Leatherbee drew away the velvet from the camera, and looked at his watch for some breathless minutes. Then he slipped the velvet on again, and said:

"That's all right."

Jim drew a long sigh.

"Will it be good, do you think?" he asked, anxiously.

"Not a doubt of it," said Mr. Leatherbee, in such a cheerful tone that Jim immediately made up his mind that the pony should have an extra quart of oats all winter for her fine behavior. He expected the picture would be done right away, but Mr. Leatherbee said he would have to send the plates to Poughkeepsie to his partner, and the pictures would come soon by the mail. Mr. Leatherbee then put all his apparatus in his wagon again, and jogged on as he had come.

For the next four days Jimmie went to the post-office about every two hours.

"Expectin' a love-letter?" said old Mr. Halloway, the postmaster. At this all the loafers who were sitting on the counter laughed loudly. Jim made up his mind that Mr. Halloway was a very unpleasant old gentleman, and vowed all sorts of threats against him. His revengeful plans melted away, however, when Mr. Halloway handed him a big envelope, and said: "Here, Bub, yer letter's come."

Jim tore it open, and six photographs dropped out all alike, all representing Baby eating under a tree. He privately showed one to her that afternoon. She evidently thought it very handsome, for she delicately chewed it up out of Jim's hand, to his great amazement. He says nothing about this when telling how the pony's picture was taken.

MERRY MIKE.

By Fleta Forrester.