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shilling for selling them. It's what they call commission."

"No, sir; I don't want any commission," said Ellen firmly. "As long as those kitties were there, I sold more butter and eggs and fowls than any one else in the market. I haven't had such a good day not ever before. And I'll be glad to sell as many kitties as you can bring me."

The Terror pressed her to accept the shilling, but she remained firm. The Twins rode joyfully home with six shillings.

That night the Terror set his four snares in the hedge of the garden about the common. He caught three rabbits.

The next morning he was silent and very thoughtful as he helped feed the kittens and change the hay in the hutches.

At last he said rather sadly: "It's sometimes rather awkward being a Dangerfield."

"Why?" said Erebus surprised.

"Those rabbits," said the Terror. "I want to sell them. But it's no good going into Rowington and trying to sell them to a poulterer. Even if he wanted rabbits—which he mightn't—he'd only

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