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ERTIE is a little boy six years old. His home is in the country. He has an uncle Frank. Uncle Frank lives in the city. Bertie has come to uncle Frank's house to stay two weeks.

He has never until now been away from his papa and mamma for a day. But he thinks he shall not mind it, because uncle Frank is such a funny man. He can make you believe that there is a big bumble-bee on your hair, or flying and buzzing about the room. He can squeak just like a mouse, or mew like a cat, or chirp like a bird.

But uncle Frank cannot play with Bertie all day long. He has an office down town, where he must stay part of the time. So he tells Bertie to keep off the street, and be sure not to follow the circus, or the man with the organ and monkey.

Bertie says he will stay in the house, and visit with Poll the parrot, and Dick, the canary. "If you need any thing more to make you happy, ask Dora the housekeeper for it. She will look after your wants till I return," uncle Frank says as he takes leave of Bertie at the door.

"Good-by, uncle Frank!" says Bertie.

"Don't follow the circus! don't follow the circus!" cries Poll from her perch.

Bertie laughs, and answers back, "Don't scold! don't scold!"

This puts Poll in the very best of humor. She turns up her eyes, tries to look smart, and screams back at the top of her voice, "Thieves, thieves! Call the police; call the police!"

Then Dora comes in, and finds uncle Frank gone. She tells Bertie she has something to show him. He follows her out through the kitchen, and up a long pair of stairs, to an attic. There is a large box in the attic. Dora calls it a chest. It is painted blue, and has a lid to it. The lid is made of woven wire.

Dora goes on tiptoe and looks over into the box. Then she softly raises the lid, and lifts Bertie up so that he can see into it. "Oh, what funny cats!" cries little Bertie.

"Indeed they are not cats," Dora says, smiling.

"Then they must be little puppies. But what red eyes they have! and such straight bodies! How funny they do look!" Bertie says.

"No, my little man, they are not puppies. You will have to guess once more," says the good-natured housekeeper.

"Are they rabbits?" asks Bertie.

"No, not rabbits, either," is the reply. "Guess again."

"Oh, please tell me what they are!" pleads Bertie. "I am sure that I can never, never guess all alone."

Dora laughs, and says they will go down and get Poll the parrot to help him guess. Poll is still on her perch; and Dora, holding a cream-cracker, says, "Here is a nice cracker, Poll. Now tell Bertie what is in the big chest in the attic."

"Polly wants a cracker!" cries the bird.

"What is in the attic?" asks Dora.

"Ferrets, ferrets! Run, rats! Run for your lives!" screams the parrot. "Polly wants a cracker!"

"There, my little man; now do you know what is in the chest?" asks Dora as she gives the cracker to Poll.

"Polly says they are ferrets," replies Bertie, dropping his eyes; "but I do not know what that means."

So Dora asks Bertie to sit beside her, and she will tell him about the little ferrets.

Just as she finishes a nice long story about an old ferret and a great long-tailed rat, a little girl's voice under the table calls out, "Come here, Bertie: I want to tell you something." Bertie slides down from the sofa, and runs to the table. He lifts up a corner of the table-cover and looks under.

There is nothing to be seen there, except a pair of very crooked legs, which belong to the table, of course.

"What does all that mean, I wonder!" Bertie says. And his eyes are as round as moons.

But, before Dora can reply, the same voice says, "Go to the door, Bertie: there is something there for you."

Bertie walks slowly toward the door, but stops halfway there, and asks, "Is it April-fool's Day?" And the voice under the table answers, "Go to the door and see."

So Bertie tries to look bold, and marches up, like a soldier going to battle. "Left, left! right, right!" calls out the voice under the table. But this time it is loud and strong, like that of a captain of the drill.

Bertie is a brave little boy: so he marches straight up to the door,—which stands open,—and looks out. Then he claps his chubby hands, and shouts, "Oh! it was my uncle Frank under the table. I forgot he was such a funny man. Oh, uncle Frank! How can you get in the house and out of the house, and nobody see you?"

"Look down here at me!" says a strange barking voice from the bottom of the steps. Bertie looks, and sees something that makes his eyes brighter than ever. It is a great, black, shaggy dog, hitched to such a nice little express-wagon. The harness fits its wearer as nicely as can be, and has silver rings and buckles. The reins are red, white, and blue. A neat whip lies across the seat of the wagon. On the sides of the wagon, in large gilt letters, are the words, "City Express."

The dog has a bright silver collar around his neck, with a small bell hung from it. The dog's name is on this collar. It is Nero.

But when uncle Frank tells Bertie that the dog, and the wagon, and the pretty harness, and the whip, are all his own to keep, he is so glad that he jumps up and down like a young monkey.

He says, "Thank you, thank you, uncle Frank! When I am a man, I shall try and be just like you." Then his uncle lifts him into the express-wagon, gives him the reins and the whip, and away they go, down the area-walk, to the stable.