DUMB ANIMALS moment the unhappy humans were forgotten, but as he wove his way in and out the tall reeds he again pondered them over in his small mind. After his thoughts became so that he couldn't extricate one idea from the other he gave up thinking entirely. It was then that he noticed he wasn't going the way he came. By this time the mountain side should have been in sight, but it wasn't. All that Peter could see was a myriad of green stalks that supported the grass. Because this was his first encounter with being lost, Peter was really frightened. His heart beat so fast, his side hurt. His breath rushed up so hard, he almost suffocated. Now he was running aimlessly, hoping that just the process of running would conjure up the mountains. Suddenly a sharp pain caught him at his neck. He hung for a moment shivering, afraid even to think. Had he been a more widely traveled animal he would have recognized that what held him so tightly and so painfully was a farmer's barbed wire fence. But it sufficed to Peter that it pained worse than a very sharp stone, and held him like a vice. When he could stand it no longer, he knew that he must call for help. Per- haps the he-human who was waiting would come. This human had no rod with a death-giving bang; he was only unhappy. So Peter opened his mouth and gave the wail that is so wierdly human. The first call brought no result, but he put all his heart into the second. Surprisingly it wasn't more than a moment before he heard sounds behind him that gave notice of the human's approach. Then fear froze him again, for he was remembering that it was this human who didn't like dumb animals, had a detestation for them, in fact. Peter knew that he was as dumb as the cat which the he-human despised, even though he washed his own fur. His breath lodged in his throat; for a moment his fear was almost more painful than his wounds. The feel of strong forepaws reassured him however, extricating him carefully from the treacherous barbs. When he was finally free he looked up into the face of the tall creature and loved him as much in that moment as he loved Mother Cheetah. The eyes of the human kept surveying him gravely; so Peter lifted up all his hope, love and gratitude and placed it in his own eyes for the human eyes there to see. Then amazingly the tall creature said with an unusual, husky note in his voice, "Why you poor little devil. Suffering and never whimpering." Peter felt himself being wrapped with skillful movements first about his wounded foot. He and his new friend were so engrossed that they didn't hear steps. They first heard "Tony!" cried in a most beautiful voice; then they saw the dark-haired she-creature, and saw also that she had great tears in her eyes. The tall one she now called "Tony" (and it sounded very much more right) DUMB ANIMALS turned and said quietly, "Linda, these animals really feel. They're nearly human -you should have seen this little fellow's eyes-oh my dear, 1 didn't realize." "Shh, Tony, don't ever be gracious enough to allow me to forgive you-it is you who should forgive me for my foolish pigheadedness, not to mention blindness. Why Tony-" The lovely creature was in Tony's arms, Peter could feel her tears that he was sure were happy ones now; and because he felt that any third person was almost unnecessary, he hurried off. His bandages, because of this relief bothered him very little, and he waddled through the grass at a great rate. The mountain was clear now. Peter was up its side, and he didn't stop until he was cuddled up by Mother Cheetah, where he promptly fell asleep, as contented as only a little Cheetah that has done a good turn can be. -Vella Fowler RAIN Rain in the city- Cool, refreshing, Washing the house-tops Of their sooty burden; Changing the green of the park Into the color of my emerald ring. Rain in the forest- Spattering dew-drops Out of tall pines, Hanging crystal pendants On each enameled needle, Polished, glittering. Rain on the sea-shore- The tang of salt air; The crunch of wet sand Beneath my feet. A warm mist. Cool, sweet. Rain in my face Proudly uplifted, Braving each drop From heaven. Its coolness, clearing Wild heart, wild mind. -Irene Maloney.