tenderness and pride that would have shamed a human mother. Evidently the milk of human kindness had not all dried up in the rough woman's motherly breast in rubbing all these years against the sharp edges of Western ranch life and she was at last touched in a vulnerable spot, for the flush of anger faded from her irate face, and the hand so threateningly raised fell in a half-gentle pat on the small mother so bravely awaiting her decision.

Afterward when the full significance of what she had seen there had filtered to her understanding and she knew the story of the cat's valiant struggle with death and the marvelous feat of her perilous journey just to "be home" and with those she had "loved and lost a while," herself among the rest, her face softened and the first real smile she had shown for years beamed on her face, chasing the old hardened lines to the jumping-off point. Even the hearts of these big bluff cowmen quailed in contemplating the Spartan nerve this helpless young mother had shown in making that piteous journey, back and forth in the lonely silence of the black night, mindful of each and every one of those precious babies. This was just a plain, common everyday cat, but one with an extraordinary calm determination and a stout heart overflowing with two sacred and human attributes, mother-love and home-love. She had paid the price, fearlessly and pluckily, to ease these human aches in her breast, a price the agony of which perhaps we have no way of measuring, but one from which we know she would have shrunk in horror under ordinary circumstances.

This small animal of no pretensions whatever, manœuvered and fought her successful battle alone, daring even to challenge a bitter enemy, and gained not only the home that she had insisted upon keeping, but in the end, by a strange caprice of fortune, the far greater and unexpected compensation of finding a warm soft spot in a heart supposed to be invulnerable.

It was not necessary, when the men came in to breakfast, for each to deny any conspiracy in the cat's home-coming. Wet, weary and cold, the cat told her own story. That their astonishment was genuine, no one could doubt, for they were struck dumb as they stared blankly at the "monster," though their beaming faces could not hide the cheery welcome they gave her in spite of being unable to utter it. They were evidently "plumb locoed" for even the boldest and most reckless of them, knowing what the mother must have been through, could not look unmoved on this miracle of miracles—not one kitling missing of the many, and each one meaning a trip across the dark, swirling current. Emitting sonorous and somewhat profane ejaculations, but decidedly to the point, they "sort'a" laughed and shrugged their shoulders, evidently unable to find any language polite enough to express their sentiments on the subject and perhaps it dimly occurred to them that it might be better not to express them anyway. But these rough diamonds were always sure to come out strongest under hardest conditions, so one of them, in quick kindliness, to relieve the rather awkward strain of the situation, "made good" by exclaiming with shame-faced tenderness: "The trouble with cats is, y'u can't never tell what they know and what they don't, nor what darned foolish audasus ideas they got tucked away in their measly carcasses."

There was no use arguing with the warlike "missus," although they surely felt there was argument "a plenty" on their side and chafed at the mandates of their more polite diplomacy, but swallowed their wrath in silent indignation, as being the better part of valor, too happy in the strange turn of affairs to parley over it. As Larry said, "There ain't no depending on females," and surprises await you at every turn. However, a woman is never so humble as when proven biased in judgment or instinct, and whatever their former differences may have been, the hour of surrender on this woman's part showed that deep down inside she was made of the proper stuff, and that it was not hardness of heart but the hardness of her life that had given her this rough exterior. This strange tenderness that pity had been able to awaken in the woman's heart had been dormant all these lonely years and was probably not intended for a cat at all, but for something dearer and sweeter; still, in lieu of its natural vent, it was decreed it should be lavished on this nice little comfortable substitute. Thus one tiny flash of love-light transformed completely her disagreeable bearing and declared for an everlasting friendship between the large woman of the large ranch and the small cat. Apparently there was some secret understanding between them, for it was a turning point and the beginning of a new era in the life of each. Hereafter the earth and the fulness thereof seemed to be the cat's. However the victory she had won sat very modestly on the unpresuming diplomat who humbly took up her duties just where she had left them off, and in spare moments tried to show her gladness in being safe at home and in good fellowship, by opening and shutting her small claws ecstatically and purring like a small drum.

There was no public display on the woman's part of this wonderful burst of tenderness in her heart, for she would have been ashamed to show how good it felt to be human, but the lesson had "took" and evidently "took hard," for it bore fruit in a wonderful moderation in her tyrannous rule and even a redemption of her looks. The old woebegone lines in her face, which her own hardness had traced there, fast disappeared, and she was transformed into a living woman, one who felt good and warm inside and showed it in her attitude toward all. After all, love is the only miracle, and hearts are the same the world over, and perhaps it was God's timely economy that only a poor little waif of a homesick cat should have lived and suffered just to be the angel to make the whole world new for this bitter woman-heart. In graciously showing this entirely unexpected softness, and a new-born protecting interest in the cat, the woman brought to herself the love of many, and basking in its radiance was like being raised from the dead, opening up as it did a better understanding with all in a sort of friendly comradeship. Her manner toward the "little black mascot," as the cat was now called, was at all times sociable and intimate, although to have let her or the family forget for one moment that discipline was her prerogative, would have been to betray the pose of her service of years among them.

On the morning of the cat's return she merely squared matters with her own conscience by taking her medicine in so far as to confess her miserable blunder by throwing out her hands in a sort of helpless gesture and bravely assuming the role of Destiny by issuing a final mandate: "She's had enough, and she's going to stay right here." Then she shut her lips ominously tight together as if ignoring the possibility of any further discussion on the subject, which hint was gladly heeded by these alert young men who were surely "onto their job." Larry said, there was even no "back talk" and no "crowing, merely a little snicker," but even that not too noticeable, as they gazed at each other in helpless, bashful awkwardness, waiting for someone to be bold and brave enough to "get busy" so that they could all "get out o' sight." At last, one care-free, happy young lad, with a little meaning twinkle in his blue eyes, absolutely unable to restrain his hilarious approval any longer, impulsively laid his hand on the widow's very generously upholstered shoulder in passing, and said confidentially in a hoarse whisper:

"Thems the kind of sentiments, and y'u're sure some lady! And she's a great small cat and will sing y'u to sleep o' nights."

A joyful grin spread over the