"It is fine fun, is it not, Mew-Mew?" Bow-Wow called out in great joy.

He had often run a long race and did not mind this run a bit.

"Yes, it is fine fun," said Mew-Mew, two or three times.

But at last, when for about the tenth time Bow-Wow said, "Is it not fine fun?" Mew-Mew could only gasp out:—

"Yes—yes—it is—good fun—but—can we not—just—rest a little?"

"What! rest so soon?" said Bow-Wow.

"Yes—just—for—a little time."

"Oh, well, if you wish it," and Bow-Wow stood still.

"But what is the matter with you? Have you hurt one of your paws?"

"Oh no—not that," said Mew-Mew. "We have run so fast that I have lost my breath."

"That is sad," said Bow-Wow. "I do not know how you will be able to move about much in the world, if you so soon lose your breath."

"But we are not to be ever on the run, are we?" said Mew-Mew, with a wild look in her eyes.

"Well, no, not ever on the run.

But there will be a good deal of it. We must do the best we can."