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diff --git a/76985-0.txt b/76985-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..90c7f45 --- /dev/null +++ b/76985-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,3513 @@ + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 76985 *** + + + + + +SALLY IN HER FUR COAT + + + + +[Illustration: SALLY IN HER FUR COAT WAS RACING THROUGH THE GARDEN +(_page 1_)] + + + + + SALLY IN HER + FUR COAT + + By + ELIZA ORNE WHITE + AUTHOR OF ‘BROTHERS IN FUR,’ ETC. + + WITH ILLUSTRATIONS FROM SCISSOR-CUTS BY + LISL HUMMEL + + [Illustration] + + BOSTON AND NEW YORK + HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY + The Riverside Press Cambridge + 1929 + + + + + COPYRIGHT, 1929, BY ELIZA ORNE WHITE + + ALL RIGHTS RESERVED INCLUDING THE RIGHT TO REPRODUCE + THIS BOOK OR PARTS THEREOF IN ANY FORM + + The Riverside Press + CAMBRIDGE · MASSACHUSETTS + PRINTED IN THE U.S.A. + + + + + TO + ELIZABETH F. DUNDASS + AND + MARGARET COLTER + + True friends of all in coats of fur, + Beloved by every cat and kitten, + Welcomed with many a heart-felt purr, + Here, gratefully your names are written. + + + + + The world is wide and full of wondrous things + For all God’s creatures, whether great or small, + For those who soar aloft on spreading wings, + Or those who, earth-bound, never fear a fall. + But surely kittens have a joyous time, + With ears attuned to every tiny sound, + And with the power the loftiest tree to climb, + And eyes that see all creatures on the ground. + The patter of the rain upon the leaves, + The ants that swiftly build their tiny house, + The wind that’s but a gentle summer breeze, + The stealthy tread of an alluring mouse-- + All this is joy; how could one wish to be + A man or woman with closed ears and eyes + To all the treasures of the land and sea, + And to the glory of the earth and skies? + And even a child, though nearer to the ground, + Is often heedless of this wondrous earth, + Where such enthralling histories are found. + Who would not be a kitten full of mirth? + + + + +CONTENTS + + + I. THE ORPHANS 1 + + Two orphan kittens without their mother, + In piteous plight were they, + A furry sister and her brother + In coats of tiger gray. + + II. THE COLD NIGHT 10 + + If in May the nights are cold, + When Nature should be thriving, + Young kittens but a few weeks old + Think winter is arriving. + + III. THE CAPTURE 19 + + Is it best to be captured, or still to be free? + To have food and a fire, or one’s liberty? + To be free has its charms, but when hungry and cold, + To be captured is not at all bad, we are told. + + IV. THE KITTENS AND MISS WINIFRED 27 + + Politeness is a pleasant trait. + If we are rude to kittens small, + We lose their love and win their hate, + Their friendship is not ours at all. + + V. THE FRIENDLY HOUSE 33 + + A house is such a pleasant place + When friends are kind + And understand our furry race, + Our heart and mind. + + VI. SALLY AND THE CLOCK 41 + + All mantelpieces should be wide + So cats can walk there side by side. + There should be trees in every room + For exercise in storm and gloom. + + VII. THE CATNIP MOUSE 46 + + If I were asked what I would like + To beautify my house, + I’d say without a moment’s thought, + Give me a catnip mouse. + + VIII. THE FIRST SNOWSTORM 52 + + I love the frostwork on the panes, + The snowfall on the trees. + I like the time when winter reigns, + And lakes and rivers freeze. + + IX. BUSY SALLY 61 + + Long naps by day, I like that best, + When the great sun is hot and bright. + That seems the time to take a rest, + After a long and strenuous night. + + X. MOODS 69 + + Perhaps the lady in her silk, + And coat of costly fur, + Would sometimes like my bowl of milk, + If she could have my purr. + + XI. PETER 78 + + Old Peter I have put to flight + On more than one occasion. + He says for country he will fight, + I call it an invasion. + + XII. SALLY AND THE LOUD SPEAKER 87 + + Speak gently, it is better far; + Soft answers are the best, + And low replies. Loud speakers are + A nuisance to the rest. + + XIII. SALLY BRACES UP 95 + + The New Year is a glorious date + For resolutions splendid, + And dreams of valor far more great + Than in the year that’s ended. + + XIV. SALLY AND SPOT 102 + + A tree is such a pleasant place + I’ll stay here through the night + If Spot continues at its base. + That villain I won’t fight. + + XV. THE FAMILY TREE 112 + + I long to have a family tree + And show to all my true descent. + But Oxford says a family tree + Is not a tree for kittens meant. + To know his father is enough + For he was made of valiant stuff. + + XVI. THE TRAVELING CAT 120 + + A traveler comes who’s seen the world, + The harbor and the sea. + He’s seen the spreading sails unfurled, + And all life’s mystery. + + XVII. OXFORD GOES ON A JOURNEY 127 + + Proud scion of a noble race am I; + The blood of hunters courses through my veins. + Variety I crave before I die; + I fear not furious gales, nor autumn rains. + + XVIII. SALLY HAS HER WISH 139 + + If I cannot have a mother, a mother I will be + With some darling, furry children of my own. + The furriest, purriest kittens, the most harum-scarum kittens, + The liveliest, gayest kittens ever known. + + XIX. SALLY IS YOUNG WITH HER CHILDREN 147 + + We love to run, we love to climb, + In fact we have a royal time. + Kings cannot quite so happy be, + For kings, we hear, are not so free. + + + + +[Illustration] + +SALLY IN HER FUR COAT + +∵ + + + + +CHAPTER I + +THE ORPHANS + + +Sally in her fur coat was racing through the garden and flying through +the Wild Wood, as if an enemy were in hot pursuit. She was a very young +kitten and small of her age. Her pursuer was not an enemy, but her +twin brother, Oxford Gray, Junior. But although they were born on the +same day, Oxford Gray, Junior, was much fatter than Sally, and he had +shorter legs, so he could never catch up with his little sister. After +a time, he grew tired of the chase, but, being Sally’s brother and +protector, he did not like to own it, so he said: + +‘Sally, I am sure all this running about must be bad for you. Come and +lie down under that giant hemlock and we’ll have a good rest.’ + +‘I am not in the least tired,’ said Sally, and off she scampered again. + +By this time Oxford Gray, Junior, was fairly panting. + +‘I am sure this mad dash will use you up,’ he said, for he did not like +to own that he was tired. + +It finally dawned on Sally that this might be the case, but, being +wise beyond her weeks, she did not speak of this, but came over and +joined her brother under the shade of the giant hemlock in the Wild +Wood. There were many of these hemlocks as well as oak trees. They +were all about as high as a man’s shoulders, but they seemed immense +to the kittens. They were sometimes spoken of by people as underbrush, +but people are often stupid about many matters, as every cat knows. Of +course all this conversation was carried on in kitten language, not in +actual words. + +The two kittens curled up under the shade of the giant hemlock in the +Wild Wood, and put their paws about each other’s necks. They were +tiger kittens and looked so much alike that when they were apart, it +was hard to tell which was Sally and which was Oxford Gray, Junior. +When they were together, one saw that Oxford Gray, Junior, was larger, +and that he had more of a white shirt-front than his sister, and he +had a pink nose which she envied, for hers was just a tiger nose. One +also noticed a great difference in their expressions, for Sally had +a sad little face, while Oxford Gray, Junior, looked prosperous and +thoroughly contented with himself. At times it almost seemed as if he +smiled. + +‘We are two very unfortunate kittens,’ said Sally; ‘it is sad to be +orphans.’ + +‘We’ve got to make the best of it,’ said Oxford Gray, Junior. ‘Other +kittens have been orphans before us and others will be orphans after +us. Sally, you must brace up.’ + +‘When I think of my brave father and of my darling mother, so cozy and +so kind, and of how they mysteriously disappeared, I can’t brace up,’ +said Sally. ‘I am sure we are going to starve.’ + +‘Not while I have my good right paw,’ said Oxford Gray, Junior. ‘I will +get food for you.’ + +‘You? How? What will you get?’ + +‘I will catch a mouse,’ said Oxford Gray, Junior, magnificently. ‘Our +father was a mighty hunter.’ + +‘But you are hardly larger than a mouse yourself,’ said Sally. ‘Father +said so.’ + +‘That was a very long time ago,’ said her brother. ‘I have grown since +then, and there must be many baby mice just as there are small kittens. +I will be on the lookout for a very young mouse, Sally.’ + +‘I am sure we shall starve before you can catch a mouse,’ said Sally, +‘for there don’t seem to be any around. We can’t live on flies, and +they are very hard to catch.’ + +If Sally had been a little girl, she would have cried bitterly, but, +being a kitten, she was more self-controlled. + +‘Where are we going to get our next meal?’ she persisted. + +‘It will somehow come,’ said Oxford Gray, Junior, who was an optimist. + +He sometimes provoked Sally very much, for she was sure she saw things +as they really were. + +‘We got some milk other days at that little house,’ he said. + +‘Yes, but it is closed to-day,’ she reminded him. + +‘Other houses will be open,’ said Oxford Gray, Junior. He glanced up as +he spoke and looked first at one of the two houses that were near the +Wild Wood and then at the other. One house was very attractive, lying +low in the valley with a pretty garden and a giant rhododendron tree +on either side of the front door. The buds were swelling and beginning +to show a hint of crimson. ‘We’ll try to get food at that house,’ said +Oxford Gray, Junior. + +‘Don’t you remember what father told us about that house?’ said Sally. +‘He said it had the secret mark that is only known to cats, that says, +“No cats need apply here for food. This is a no-good house.”’ + +‘Yes, I remember now,’ said her brother, ‘but father said the other +house was all right. That has a secret mark that says, “Welcome, Cats.”’ + +‘We are not cats,’ said Sally. ‘We are such small kittens I am afraid +no one will see us; father called us “kittenettes,”’ and at the memory +of her father, Sally once more looked very sad. + +‘What’s the use of worrying?’ said Oxford Gray, Junior. ‘Something +always has turned up and something always will.’ + +‘That is rather an ugly house, I think,’ said Sally, as she looked at +the gray house on the hill that said, in its secret language, ‘Welcome, +Cats.’ ‘It seems all pointed roofs and it hasn’t such a pretty garden +as the other house.’ + +‘I don’t care about its looks,’ said her brother. ‘Don’t you remember +how mother once said, “Handsome is that handsome does,” when you wished +you were an Angora with long yellow fur?’ + +‘Yes, I remember,’ said Sally, ‘but I wish I were a yellow Angora just +the same. I’d like to be a handsome kitten.’ + +‘I don’t care at all how I look,’ said Oxford Gray, Junior. ‘I’d rather +be myself. If you were a yellow Angora with long fur, you would not +have me for your twin. How would you like to lose me, Sally?’ + +At this terrible suggestion, Sally put her paws all the more firmly +around her brother’s neck. + +‘You are the whole world to me, Oxford Gray, Junior,’ she said; +‘grandmother, and father and mother and brother, too. The others have +all disappeared, and you are all I have left. It is sad to be orphans,’ +she wailed again, in her thought-transference language; ‘but if one has +to be an orphan, it is better to be twins.’ + +Now Sally and Oxford Gray, Junior, had been so busy about their own +concerns that they had not noticed that a lady came to the bow window +of the house that said ‘Welcome, Cats,’ in its secret language, and +that her eyes rested on the brother and sister in their fur coats, +and so it was a great surprise when they saw her come down the piazza +steps. They were frightened and scampered off as fast as they could go. +The lady put a large blue-and-white dinner plate down on the grass and, +looking around her as if searching for the kittens, she went back into +the house. + +‘Poor darlings,’ she said, and there were tears in her eyes; ‘poor +kittens to have lost their mother when they were so young!’ + +A faint odor of fish greeted the kittens. + +‘I do believe there is fish on that plate,’ said Oxford Gray, Junior. +‘Let us go and see.’ + +When they reached the plate, they saw it had on it a large piece of +mackerel cut in mouthfuls that would just suit them and some potato and +green vegetable about the color of grass. Perhaps it was cooked grass. +They had never seen it before. It had a most satisfying smell. Then the +hungry kittens leaned over the blue-and-white plate, one on one side +and one on the other, and they hungrily ate the delicious fish. Sally +ate daintily and slowly, but Oxford Gray, Junior, gobbled his portion +down very fast and then ate what was left of Sally’s share. + +Sally hit him with her paw. There were things that even the gentle +Sally could not stand. + +‘That isn’t fair,’ she said. + +‘I need more to keep me alive than you do,’ said Oxford Gray, Junior. +‘If I am going to hunt for food for the pair of us, I have to be well +fed.’ + +‘Do you think you could catch fish?’ Sally asked. ‘I like fish even +better than mouse.’ + +‘Father was a mighty hunter, but I never heard that he was a +fisherman,’ said her brother. ‘I am afraid I shall have to stick to +hunting. But we are all right for to-day, Sally. Always trust to me. +Did not I tell you something would turn up?’ + +[Illustration] + + + + +[Illustration] + +CHAPTER II + +THE COLD NIGHT + + +It rained that afternoon, a cold piercing rain and the thermometer went +down. Nothing like the cold had been known for years in the month of +May. But the kittens did not know this, as they had only weeks to judge +by. They were afraid this sort of weather might last for many days. + +‘Where can we spend the night?’ Sally asked Oxford Gray, Junior. + +Oxford Gray, for once, was at a loss. + +‘If only Elvira would come to the door of the gray house and see us, +she would be sure to let us in.’ + +‘I don’t know about houses,’ said Sally. ‘Mother warned me about +houses. She said she had lost faith in every one since her first owners +were so unkind and left her to starve when they moved to another town.’ + +‘Father did not feel that way,’ said Oxford Gray, Junior. ‘He said +Elvira let him into the house one night when there was a great +snowstorm, whatever that is. He said if trouble ever came and we could +get where Elvira could see us, we’d be safe and happy.’ + +‘Does the house belong to Elvira?’ + +‘Father wasn’t sure. He had been told it belonged to Miss Winifred +Mann. But he said if it did, it seemed strange she should take so +little interest in it. He said she seemed to be out of it most of the +time, while Elvira stayed in it and made it look pretty and cooked +lots of meals for people and cats, especially cats. Father said Miss +Winifred wasn’t a bad sort, and that she could talk very pleasantly to +a cat, but that was very little good if a fellow wanted a square meal. +Anyway, the house is the thing to go to on a stormy night like this. +Maybe this is a snowstorm.’ + +‘It can’t be,’ said Sally. ‘Father said snow was white, and that it +made the earth look pretty. Oh, dear, I wish he hadn’t gone away.’ + +‘Brace up, Sally,’ said Oxford Gray, Junior, who felt it would be +easier to brace up himself if he had the satisfaction of scolding some +one. + +‘Where are we to spend the night if we can’t get into the house?’ Sally +asked. ‘That place under the piazza has been fixed so that nothing can +get in any more.’ + +‘There are other places where we might find shelter,’ said Oxford Gray, +Junior. ‘I’ll go and explore.’ + +‘I’ll come along with you,’ said Sally, who did not like to be left +alone. ‘When I think of my brave father and my darling mother----’ + +‘Oh, shut up, Sally,’ said her brother. + +As Sally was wise beyond her weeks, she knew that Oxford Gray, Junior, +must be very cold and unhappy, or he would not be so cross, so with her +usual wisdom she said: + +‘Oxford Gray, Junior, you will have to be like a father to me, you are +so brave, and I will try to be a mother to you; at least, I can be +loving.’ + +At these words Oxford Gray, Junior, felt a pleasant glow about the +region of his heart and the cold rain did not seem to matter so much. +He did not say anything, for he was a shy kitten so far as expressing +his feelings was concerned, but Sally knew by the expression of his +face that he was pleased with her words. + +‘If we are orphans, it is good to be twins,’ she said again. + +[Illustration] + +The kittens wandered about in the heavy rain. They were cold and +forlorn, but Sally did not dare to speak of her brave father or her +kind mother again. The two houses that stood inside the same fence +seemed asleep. No one came to any of the windows. + +‘Let’s go down into the street,’ said Oxford Gray, Junior. ‘Perhaps +in some of the houses on the street there will be some one who likes +kittens.’ + +It was quite a long way to the street, down a winding avenue, so the +kittens took a short cut through the Wild Wood, and when the street +was reached Oxford Gray, Junior, was timid about crossing it, for +automobiles were going by very fast. + +‘It hardly seems safe for you to cross, Sally,’ he said. ‘I think I had +better go and look around first.’ + +‘I don’t want to be left behind,’ said Sally, and before Oxford Gray, +Junior, knew what she was doing, Sally had gone across the street so +fast that it seemed as if she were flying. Oxford Gray, Junior, watched +his chance and went across to join her. + +They went along past the row of apartment houses, but no one came out +to say a friendly word to the unfortunate kittens. + +‘Let’s go around to the back of the houses,’ said Sally. ‘I’m very +hungry. Maybe some one will give us something to eat.’ + +Oxford Gray, Junior, followed his enterprising sister, and there on the +back porch of a house was a saucer of milk. They could hardly believe +their eyes. + +‘Didn’t I tell you,’ said Oxford Gray, Junior, ‘that something nice +would happen?’ + +Oxford Gray, Junior, took his place on one side of the saucer of milk, +and Sally took her place on the other side and they began to lap the +milk in haste. When it was all but gone, they heard the opening of a +door, and Sally saw an angry woman coming out of it. + +‘You little thieves, you little scoundrels!’ said the woman. ‘You come +and steal our cat’s milk!’ + +‘They were probably very hungry,’ said a man in a kind voice. + +‘It’s bad enough to feed one cat, because you are so daft on them,’ +said the woman, ‘but I can’t feed the whole neighborhood. Scat! Get +away with you and never show your tiger faces here any more, you brats!’ + +[Illustration] + +The kittens fairly flew down the steps and out into the pouring rain. + +‘Well, we had a good meal, anyhow,’ said Oxford Gray, Junior. ‘How +could we tell the milk wasn’t meant for any kitten that got there +first?’ + +They went back to the Wild Wood. It seemed more like home than any +other place, and Oxford Gray, Junior, always had the hope that the door +of the gray house on the hill might open and kind Elvira come out and +welcome him. + +At last they found an opening under one of the piazzas. This one had +not as yet been fixed so that no animal could crawl in and take shelter +there. It was a small hole, but large enough for Sally to get in +easily. Oxford Gray, Junior, had to squeeze in. + +‘Didn’t I tell you that we should find shelter?’ he said. + +Sally wanted to say, ‘Oh, shut up!’ but, being wise beyond her weeks, +she said nothing. + +She did not like the shelter. It was not her idea of what a home should +be. There were cracks in the boards that let in some of the rain, and +there was a musty smell that she did not like, and it was cold, even +there. + +Oxford Gray, Junior, fell asleep long before she did. She stayed awake +a long time, trying to plan out some way of getting into some warm +house where they could have a fire and some good food to eat. Her +mother had told her of such a house where she had spent her early days +before her owners moved away and left her behind, and her brave father +had told her of three where he had been an honored guest. + +The rain kept on pattering on the boards overhead, and Sally grew more +and more forlorn and thought of her brave father and her dear mother, +and life seemed hard. She was provoked with her brother for taking +things so calmly. + +What should she do without him, though? + +At last she went to sleep, repeating to herself her refrain, ‘If one +has to be an orphan, it is better to be twins.’ + + + + +[Illustration] + +CHAPTER III + +THE CAPTURE + + +The next morning the sun shone brightly, and this in itself made the +kittens feel in better spirits. Oxford Gray, Junior, who had had a +fine night’s sleep, was positively gay, and Sally forbore to mention +her brave father and her dear mother. Perhaps, after all, Oxford Gray, +Junior, was right and something would turn up. + +And something did turn up. It was toward the end of the afternoon, and +they were beginning to wonder where they were to get their next meal. +Oxford Gray, Junior, had caught a fly or two and found some bugs, but +he had not been able to get a mouse. He had felt it important to keep +up his own strength, as he had to take care of Sally, and she ought +to learn to brace up and look out for herself. She did get a couple of +bugs, and they had had a little grass, but no plate of fish had been +put out for them again, for no one had seen them. + +They were at play under the giant rhododendron bush that was on the +south side of the pretty house that was not friendly to cats, when the +exciting event happened. The front door opened, and out of it came a +very pretty young lady. She had yellow hair and wore a pretty blue +dress, and was exactly the sort of a lady that Sally would like to be +herself, with a warm house to live in with plenty of food. + +‘Goodness,’ said the pretty girl, ‘something must be done about you, +poor little dears,’ and she looked from Sally to Oxford Gray, Junior. +‘If only my cook liked cats--as it is, I can’t keep you myself.’ + +She stooped and picked Sally up and started in the direction of the +gray house on the hill. + +When Sally found that Oxford Gray, Junior, was left behind, she was +very unhappy. She kept saying in her own language: ‘Please, I can’t be +separated from my dear, brave brother. I have lost my grandmother, and +my darling mother, so cozy and so kind, and my brave father, the mighty +hunter, and my brother is all I have.’ + +The lady, however, did not seem to understand, for she went straight on +toward the gray house. Then Sally began to struggle frantically to get +out of the hand of the pretty lady. She scratched as hard as she could +with her small claws. Without Oxford Gray, Junior, there would be no +happiness in life. She would rather live in the Wild Wood with him and +be hungry and cold than to be warm and well fed without him. + +‘It is wicked to separate twins,’ she said, but, in spite of all her +scratchings, the lady walked on to the door of the gray house. + +As they approached the door, to Sally’s joy, she saw with her own +bright eyes the sign her father had described to her, ‘Welcome, Cats.’ +There was a knocker on the door and the pretty lady gave a loud rap, +and presently it was opened and Elvira stood before them. Sally was +sure it was Elvira, for she had the beaming look when she saw Sally +that her father had described. + +‘What shall I do about this kitten?’ the pretty lady asked. ‘I can’t +keep it, and the mother does not seem to be around.’ + +‘There are two of them,’ said Elvira; ‘I have seen two.’ + +‘Yes, there is another one outside, but he was scampering off so fast I +don’t know that I can catch him.’ + +‘Oh, please do,’ Sally said in her own language, ‘or else let me go, I +can’t be separated from him.’ + +At last she had come across some one who understood kitten language, +for Elvira said: ‘It would be a pity to separate them. Wherever they +go, they should be kept together. Miss Mann has not planned to have any +more cats, and yet, if she sees the kittens, maybe--at any rate, I’ll +give them shelter for the night and a good square meal.’ + +‘I’ll see if I can catch the other,’ said the lady. + +‘That will be very kind of you, Mrs. Conant,’ said Elvira. + +‘Mrs. Conant’--so she was a married lady. Sally had not dreamed of +this, she looked so young. + +Now, Oxford Gray, Junior, when he was left alone was very +disconsolate. He had not realized how fond he was of his little sister. +To lose Sally--why, to lose her was like losing the sun out of the sky. +Sally might be sad and woe-begone, just as the sun might hide behind +clouds, but you knew the bright Sally would come back. And now she had +gone, and it might be that she, too, like his grandmother, and his +father, and mother, would never be seen again. + +‘I’d be better to her if I only had her back,’ said Oxford Gray, +Junior. ‘I’d let her have more of the food, but of course she really +ought to learn to brace up.’ + +It seemed a long time to Oxford Gray, Junior, before the lady came down +the steps of the house without Sally, for when one is not many weeks +old, minutes seem very long. + +‘What have you done with my sister?’ Oxford Gray, Junior, asked +sternly; but the lady, although she looked unusually intelligent, +evidently could not understand his language. + +[Illustration] + +Well, at any rate, he was not going to be caught until he knew more +about the lady. So he made a mad dash for the garden. The lady ran +after him and they had an exciting race. He jumped up on top of a +barrel and she reached after him; he went under a garden seat, and +the agile lady ducked down after him; he gave a flying leap, and it +almost seemed as if she gave a flying leap, too. At last, panting +and exhausted, he stopped for breath and the lady captured him. He, +like his sister, scratched her pretty hand. She went straight to the +door through which she had taken Sally. She gave a loud rap with the +knocker and Elvira appeared at the door. + +‘I have caught the other one,’ she said. + +‘Bless his furry heart and his pink nose,’ said Elvira. ‘I am sure this +one is a boy; he seems so brave and he led you such a chase.’ + +Then Oxford Gray, Junior, swelled with pride. + +‘He’s the image of his father, Oxford Gray,’ said Elvira, ‘even to the +pink nose. He’s much fatter than the other kitten, but she seems a dear +little thing.’ + +‘Well, I’ll leave the pair of them in your care,’ said Mrs. Conant, as +she put Oxford Gray, Junior, down on the floor. + +Sally was perfectly delighted to see her brother, and he was very glad +to see her. + +Meanwhile Elvira was getting something out of the pantry for them. She +brought out two saucers of milk. It was very delicious, and when Oxford +Gray, Junior, had finished his saucer, he came around to help Sally +with hers. She gave him a slap with her paw, but it had no effect. + +‘It is my saucer of milk,’ said Sally. + +‘You should lap faster! It is mine now,’ he said. + +‘Aren’t they dears?’ said Elvira’s friend, Miss Harvey, ‘poor little +things.’ + +‘I like this one best, he shall be mine,’ Elvira said, as she captured +Oxford Gray, Junior, and held him in her arms. ‘See how much he looks +like his noble father, Oxford Gray?’ + +‘Then this one shall be mine,’ and Miss Harvey took the small Sally in +her arms. ‘The poor little thing looks thin and half-starved, but she +is a dear little kitten with such a pretty face.’ + +At these words Sally felt very happy, for no one had said anything so +kind to her since her mother died. + +‘Poor little orphan,’ said Miss Harvey, ‘I will be a second mother to +you.’ + +Sally thought how cozy and sweet Miss Harvey looked, and Miss Harvey’s +big heart went out to the forlorn little creature in her arms. Suddenly +Sally put her two paws around Miss Harvey’s neck. + + + + +[Illustration] + +CHAPTER IV + +THE KITTENS AND MISS WINIFRED + + +The next morning when Miss Winifred came into the kitchen, the kittens +were in the clothes-basket which was under a table, so she did not +see them. She was deciding what she would have for dinner, and at the +sound of the word haddock, which Elvira suggested, the kittens became +interested. It seemed that if one owned a house, all one had to do was +to say what food one wanted. The kittens would have supposed it would +be just the other way. + +When the meals were all decided on, Elvira said, ‘I had a present +yesterday from Mrs. Conant.’ + +‘How nice!’ said Miss Winifred, who was very fond of her young +neighbor. ‘I am sure it was something you wanted.’ + +‘Yes,’ said Elvira, ‘she could not have given me anything I would have +liked better.’ + +‘Aren’t you going to show it to me?’ + +‘You must have three guesses first.’ + +‘I think it is an apron,’ said Miss Winifred. + +‘No, it is something with more warmth in it than an apron.’ + +‘It must be a sweater.’ + +‘No, it is warmer still.’ + +‘It isn’t the right season for a fur neck-piece,’ said Miss Winifred. + +‘It is made of fur, though,’ said Elvira, and she picked up Oxford +Gray, Junior, and held him before Miss Winifred’s astonished eyes. +‘Isn’t he the living image of his father, Oxford Gray?’ she asked. + +Now, Miss Winifred’s heart softened the moment she saw Oxford Gray, +Junior, but she had determined not to have another cat, so she tried to +look stern. + +‘I never did like a tiger kitten with white feet so well as an all +tiger cat. Sam used to look like a miniature tiger in the jungle,’ +and at the memory of Sam, Miss Winifred looked sad, for this pet of +Elvira’s had found his way to her heart. ‘He will always have dirty +feet, just as his father had.’ She put on her eye-glasses so as to see +him better. ‘I don’t think you are so very much to look at,’ she said, +hardening her heart. + +[Illustration] + +Oxford Gray, Junior’s feelings were deeply hurt. + +‘I have said I never wanted another cat,’ Miss Winifred added. + +‘I never expected he would be yours,’ said Elvira; ‘of course it’s your +house, but you wouldn’t want to be alone in it.’ + +At this Miss Winifred laughed merrily and her glasses tumbled off. + +‘Of course, we’ll have to keep the kitten for two or three days until +he has had a few meals and then we can take him to the Ellen Gifford +Home; they find such good places for cats.’ + +‘I don’t think they could find a better home than this,’ said Elvira. + +‘We might find a home for him where the mistress is just longing for a +cat,’ said Miss Winifred. + +‘There is another one,’ said Elvira, and she took the frightened Sally +out of the clothes-basket. ‘You would not have the heart to separate a +brother and sister.’ + +Sally jumped out of Elvira’s hands and took refuge under a table. If +Miss Winifred could make such unkind remarks about the appearance of +her handsome brother, what would she say when she saw her! + +But you never could foresee what Miss Winifred would do. As soon as +she saw thin little Sally with her pitiful expression, her heart was +touched. + +‘Poor little thing,’ she said. ‘We must certainly feed her up before +we take her to the Home. We can get Mrs. Conant to run us up there in +her car, just before Elvira and I start for New Hampshire, Miss Harvey, +so that you will not have to be bothered with the care of two little +kittens while we are gone.’ + +The kittens liked their new home, and they hoped very much that they +would not be sent away, for surely no one could be kinder than Elvira +and Miss Harvey. + +They were always running around the kitchen whenever Miss Winifred went +there, and, as she was very near-sighted, she once stepped on Sally’s +tail. + +Sally and Oxford Gray, Junior, talked the matter over. + +‘Her feet seem always getting in our way,’ said Sally. + +‘I am glad she is going to New Hampshire,’ said Oxford Gray, Junior. +‘We’ll have a little peace, but I wish Elvira wasn’t going with her.’ + +They were glad, on the whole, that no one could understand their +language, although it would be convenient at times to be understood. + +Elvira was somewhat troubled by them, but she loved them too well to +think of parting with them, and soon, when they had grown used to their +new home, it would be safe to let them out-of-doors again. + +By the time Miss Winifred and Elvira came back from New Hampshire, Miss +Harvey and the kittens had become such firm friends that nothing more +was said about sending them to the Ellen Gifford Home. + + + + +[Illustration] + +CHAPTER V + +THE FRIENDLY HOUSE + + +Sally was sure she liked houses. She liked the house where her new +friends lived from the very start. A corner under a piazza where the +rain could come through the cracks in the boards overhead had never +seemed her idea of what a home should be, nor did she care to spend +most of her time out-of-doors looking for food which was hard to find. +So she settled down quite contentedly, and it did not trouble her that, +while Elvira and Miss Winifred were in New Hampshire, Miss Harvey kept +her and Oxford Gray, Junior, in the house. She always spoke of the +three ladies in the following order, Miss Harvey, Elvira, and Miss +Winifred. Her brother told her that she should speak of Miss Winifred +first because she was the oldest and the owner of the house, and of +Miss Harvey next, and Elvira last, because she was the youngest of the +three, but Sally persisted in her own way. + +‘I love Miss Harvey best, so I speak of her first, and I love Miss +Winifred less than the others, so she comes last.’ + +[Illustration] + +It was not until Elvira and Miss Winifred had been at home some days +that Miss Harvey said to Sally one morning, ‘You are such a good little +kitten, I am going to let you through into the other part of the house +while I am dusting the rooms.’ + +[Illustration] + +Sally had always wondered what was on the other side of the door. She +had heard from her father that the rooms were large and that there +were many pictures of Miss Winifred’s ancestors hanging on the walls. +He had told her there was a portrait of Miss Winifred’s mother over +the mantelpiece in the hall. Sally had never seen a picture, and so +she looked at them with great interest. So that little girl in a fur +cape was Miss Winifred’s mother! How odd it seemed that a lady so +old herself had had a mother who was once a little girl! There were +other portraits in the parlor and dining-room, all pictures of Miss +Winifred’s relations, she was sure. + +She looked in vain for any pictures of her own ancestors. Surely so +many Furbush-Tailbys had lived in the house, she should think Miss +Winifred would have framed portraits of them hanging on the walls. Her +great-great-grandmother, Martha Furbush-Tailby, would have made a nice +picture, and her great-grandfather, William Furbush-Tailby, the poet, +would certainly have been an ornament to the walls. And these relations +of Miss Mann’s looked so queer in their old-fashioned clothes, while +her own ancestors would have looked as much up-to-date as Oxford Gray, +Junior, himself, for she had been told they all had the gray tiger +markings and broad white shirt-fronts like himself, and every one of +them had white feet. And so far as tails were concerned, they were +all noted for the fine tiger markings; she herself was proud of her +tail. Yes, it would have made the sober green walls of the parlor +far pleasanter to look at if there had been portraits there of her +ancestors. + +At last she saw a picture with a house and church in the distance, and +there, walking on the grass in the foreground, were two ladies, and a +little boy, and a dog. Here at last was an animal. The ladies wore long +skirts that trailed on the grass and bonnets that hid their faces, and +the little boy wore odd clothes, too, but the dog looked exactly like +one that Sally had met in the Wild Wood and scampered away from. + +‘Yes,’ said Sally, ‘it only shows how sensible and superior animals +are, to be so made that they never have to change with the fashion.’ + +There was another room that was filled with books. It had a desk in +it and Miss Winifred’s typewriter, and a sofa that looked as if it +would be a pleasant place for a kitten to take a nap. There were +window-seats, too. The sun was pouring in on them. Sally jumped up on +one and settled down. The sun felt warm and pleasant on her back. + +‘It is a friendly house,’ said Sally. ‘I like it, but some of the +pictures would look so much nicer with kittens in them. The little +girl with the fur over her shoulders would look much sweeter if she +had a kitten in her arms. I am sure she would have loved a nice, furry +kitten.’ + +There was a mantelpiece in this room that Sally longed to explore, for +there were candelabra on it, one at either end with two candles in each +of them and dangling metal things hanging down from them that Sally +longed to play with. She knew they could swing, for she saw Miss Harvey +dusting them, so while Miss Harvey was dusting the table, she jumped up +on the mantelpiece by way of the sofa and began to play with them. + +When she went back into the kitchen, she told Oxford Gray, Junior, +about the charms of the friendly house. He was greatly interested when +he heard of the mantelpiece with the candlesticks with the swinging +pendants. + +‘I think maybe Miss Harvey wouldn’t like you to touch them,’ said Sally. + +‘Miss Harvey!’ He spoke a little contemptuously. ‘Why should I do any +more harm than you?’ + +So the kittens watched their chance, and one day they slipped through +the door that was left partly open so that Miss Harvey could hear the +telephone in the other part of the house. + +Oxford Gray, Junior, hardly paused to look at anything in the other +rooms. He did not care for the portraits of Miss Winifred’s ancestors. + +‘They all have on such old-fashioned clothes,’ he said. ‘Our ancestors +would look much more up-to-date.’ + +‘That is what I thought myself,’ said Sally. + +Oxford and Sally went into the library where the candelabra stood on +the mantelpiece. + +‘There’ll be a candlestick for each of us to play with,’ said Sally. + +Oxford thought it would be exciting to get to the mantelpiece ahead of +Sally, and Sally wanted to get there first, so they had a mad race to +the sofa and then they gave a jump that landed them on the mantelpiece. +Alas! the mantelpiece was not wide enough for the pair of them, and the +first thing they knew was that they had knocked one of the candlesticks +off the mantelpiece and had tumbled off themselves and were lying on +the floor with the ruins of the broken wax candles. + +The kittens were very much frightened. Sally rushed under the sofa and +Oxford Gray, Junior, took refuge under a chair. + +Elvira, who was in the kitchen, heard the noise, and came in to see +what had happened. They heard her step in the hall. + +‘If we are very quiet,’ said Sally, in her thought-transference +language, ‘Elvira will never find us. She’ll think the candlestick just +fell off of itself.’ + +‘For mercy sakes!’ said Elvira, as she saw the broken candles on the +floor. ‘You little rascal, what have you been doing?’ and she fixed her +eyes on Oxford Gray, Junior. ‘I suppose Sally is somewhere about. Oh, +yes! there she is under the sofa.’ + +‘It wasn’t our fault,’ said Oxford. ‘It is just the fault of that old +mantelpiece--it’s too narrow. Miss Winifred ought to have made her +house more convenient for kittens.’ + +But, alas! Elvira couldn’t understand his language. + + + + +[Illustration] + +CHAPTER VI + +SALLY AND THE CLOCK + + +What Sally missed more than anything in her restricted life in the +house was trees. There was something that was called a hat-tree in the +hall, but it was a poor thing with no branches and merely a series +of pegs, on which some garments hung at times. And in the parlor +there was a very tall tree that Miss Harvey called a palm, that was +no good for climbing purposes, because it was so slimsy. Sally could +not see why Miss Winifred did not have an oak tree instead, for there +were plenty of them around the Wild Wood and one of them would never +be missed. If there had never been cats living here before, Sally +could have understood it, but there had been so many living here. Her +great-great-grandmother, Martha Furbush-Tailby, had lived here, and +her great-grandfather, William Furbush-Tailby, had been born in the +house. She should have supposed Miss Winifred would have wanted to make +things comfortable for them. + +Sally and Oxford Gray, Junior, took to climbing Elvira and Miss Harvey +as a substitute for trees. They preferred Elvira when she was in a +friendly mood because she was so much taller, but she occasionally made +disrespectful remarks, and said such words as ‘You little rascals, you +little villains, you’ve torn my apron.’ Miss Harvey, on the other hand, +seemed to understand, and not to mind the sudden surprise of a kitten +running up her dress and landing on her shoulder and then pulling a +comb out of her hair. + +‘The poor little dears, they have no trees to climb,’ she would say. +‘They’ll be all right as soon as they are so used to the house that +they will not run away if we let them out.’ + +There was another thing Sally could not understand. It did not seem +at all reasonable to her that on cold days in June, when the house +felt damp, there was no fire in the furnace. She had learned that the +registers were places where heat came up in the winter. But why not +have a furnace fire in summer when it was cold? Certainly cats could +run a house much better than people if they had the chance. + +Although Miss Winifred had not been thoughtful enough to make +mantelpieces wide enough for two kittens to walk there together, Sally +did not by any means give up her desire to explore such delightful +walks. In the kitchen the clock on a small shelf had a pointed roof and +that in the dining-room had an ornament on top of it, but the parlor +clock had a flat roof, so to speak, and Sally was sure it would be a +grand place to sit and see the world from a high place, just as people +saw it, for the top of the clock was only a little lower than Miss +Harvey’s head. There were no candlesticks on this mantelpiece and the +small ornaments were so placed as to leave plenty of room for a cat. +There were two routes to the desired spot, one was by a low bookcase +which could be reached by a chair, and the other, by the way of the +piano. This Sally decided would be the best, for one of her favorite +seats was the piano, which could be easily reached by a chair. + +Miss Harvey was reading aloud to Miss Winifred at the time. She had +found that Sally was such a good kitten and stepped so daintily that +she let her go wherever she liked. So she climbed from a chair to the +piano and then gave a leap to the mantelpiece, and then she got up on +top of the clock. She found it a comfortable seat, and it was fine to +be so high up, for she could look down on the heads of dear Miss Harvey +and Miss Winifred, who really wasn’t a bad sort, except for her feet +that were always getting in one’s way. The room looked very different +now she was so high up. This must be the way it looked to people, with +the rug very far off and no one noticing the table legs. She was in no +hurry to get down from her high perch, so she sat there a long time +washing her face. + +‘Look at Sally!’ said Miss Harvey. + +Miss Winifred put on her glasses. + +Just then a singular thing happened that gave Sally a scare. Something +inside the clock went off. She had heard clocks strike before, of +course, but never when she was so near. It was the loudest thing she +had ever heard. ‘One, two, three’--by this time the frightened Sally +was off the clock and on the mantelpiece, preparing to give a flying +leap to the piano, but her curiosity overcame her fear, and she looked +behind the clock to see if she could find out where the noise came +from. ‘Four, five, six’--by this time she was on the piano again. Would +the thing never stop? Had she set something going by being on top of +it? ‘Seven, eight.’ That was all. She hoped she had not ruined it. But +of one thing she was sure. She would never try to view the world again +from the top of the parlor clock. + + + + +[Illustration] + +CHAPTER VII + +THE CATNIP MOUSE + + +There is a first time for everything, whether one is a little girl, or +a boy, or a kitten. For a little girl, there is her first doll, and +later her first pretty doll with real hair and blue eyes that will +open and shut. For a boy there is his first ball, and his first set of +marbles; but if you are a kitten, greater than all of these joys put +together is the thrill that comes when you have your first catnip mouse. + +Oxford Gray, Junior, and Sally could measure their young lives by +months instead of weeks before this exciting event occurred. They +had heard there were such things, for there had been a tradition in +the family of a glorious catnip mouse that had belonged to their +ancestress, Martha Furbush-Tailby. But it is one thing to hear about a +catnip mouse and quite another to have it for one’s very own plaything. + +Cool days and nights had come. It was the autumn, and all things furry +were seeking snug quarters for the winter. The kittens were glad that +they had their cozy kitchen to live in. Oxford Gray, Junior, however, +sometimes went off on an excursion for hours, but Sally kept pretty +closely to the house. And besides cats and kittens, there were others +that sought winter quarters. + +‘There seem to be a lot of mice about,’ Miss Winifred had said to +Elvira. ‘I hear them in the wall.’ + +‘I can do a good deal for you, Miss Winifred,’ said Elvira, ‘but +catching mice is not in my line.’ + +Miss Winifred laughed. ‘I should think some of your followers might do +it for you,’ she said, and she looked at Oxford Gray, Junior. + +Although Oxford Gray, Junior, did not care much for the owner of the +house, this put him on his mettle, and the very next night he caught +his first mouse. The praise given him was so great that he caught +three others within a week. + +It was then that Miss Winifred said to Elvira, ‘I wonder if the kittens +are not old enough to like a catnip mouse?’ + +‘Old enough?’ said Elvira. ‘I have been thinking for weeks they ought +to have one, but I have been out very little it has stormed so much.’ + +‘A catnip mouse!’ The kittens were entranced at the idea. They could +hardly wait for the time to come when they could have one for their +very own. + +It was late one November afternoon when Elvira came into the house +after a trip to Boston. She had hardly got inside the door before the +kittens noticed a peculiar and very delicious smell. It seemed to them +to be sweeter than the odor of roses and violets and mignonette and +sweet peas. They looked at each other in glad surprise. + +‘I am sure she has brought us a catnip mouse,’ said Sally. + +She got up on the kitchen table and sniffed at Elvira’s bag. + +‘Yes, you witch,’ said Elvira. ‘It is a catnip mouse all right, but +you must be patient and wait until I get my things off.’ + +Learning that it really was a catnip mouse, Oxford Gray, Junior, jumped +up on the table and joined his sister. She was sitting there patiently, +but Oxford Gray, Junior, began to claw at the bag to try to get at the +catnip mouse. + +‘You are a bad kitten,’ said Elvira, taking her bag away. ‘You don’t +deserve the catnip mouse. Why can’t you behave well like your sister?’ + +‘It was I that caught all those mice. Sally could never catch a mouse +to save her life,’ said Oxford Gray, Junior. + +‘I could, too, and I will some day,’ said Sally. + +But even the intelligent Elvira did not seem to understand what was +being said. + +Elvira undid her bag and flung something down on the floor. It was +the catnip mouse. It was shaped like a real mouse, and was full of +catnip. Oxford and Sally ran toward it. Sally had it in her mouth and +Oxford knocked it with his paw. Sally dropped it and Oxford tried to +capture it. And then to their surprise, another of the wonderful things +fell to the floor. There were two of them! Two catnip mice--one for +each of them! Who but Elvira would have thought of bringing home two +catnip mice. Oxford took his mouse and ran under the table to enjoy it +by himself, and Sally went under a chair with hers. The mice were so +marvelous the kittens were afraid that some one would take them away +after a short time. + +Such thoughts they had as they inhaled the delicious scent. Oxford came +out into the room at last and threw his mouse up into the air. It fell +lightly to the ground. Then Sally came out with her mouse and threw +it up into the air. They were so excited and overstimulated that they +began to break into verse. + + Elvira, Elvira, how we admire her! + We give her warmest praise. + She must sometime have been a cat, + We both are very sure of that, + A cat who lived in prehistoric days. + Elvira, Elvira, how we admire her! + +It seemed almost as if Elvira had understood, for she said to Miss +Harvey, ‘See how excited the kittens are. It reminds me of Martha +Furbush-Tailby’s first catnip mouse and her verses.’ + + Sweet are the lessons of adversity, + At least so people say; + But sweeter is prosperity, + I’ve learned that much to-day. + + For when the catnip mouse is new + And full of catnip strength, + The hours fly by on shining wings + Not measured by their length. + + If I were asked what I would like + To beautify my house, + I’d say without a moment’s thought, + ‘Give me a catnip mouse.’ + + + + +[Illustration] + +CHAPTER VIII + +THE FIRST SNOWSTORM + + +Sally sat at the window watching her first snowstorm. She was entranced +by the way the flakes fell. They came down so softly, flying through +the air like tiny white butterflies, and when they reached the earth, +they all joined together in a wonderful white blanket. + +‘Oxford,’ she said, ‘isn’t this a beautiful world? Doesn’t it seem as +if millions of tiny white butterflies were coming down to cover the +earth with a white blanket?’ + +‘It looks more like powder to me, or rice,’ said Oxford. ‘I don’t see +anything pretty about it. It’s just frozen rain.’ + +[Illustration] + +It was when her brother said things like this that Sally longed +to have children who might perhaps be like her and understand how +truly beautiful this wonderful world is. She did so wish that her +great-grandfather was alive, for she was sure he would be a satisfying +companion. He was a poet, and Elvira had sometimes read some of his +verses aloud. They had been published in a book, and there were +others that had never been printed. She longed to ask Elvira if her +great-grandfather, William Furbush-Tailby, had ever written a poem +about a snowstorm, but, although Elvira was unusually intelligent, for +a person, Sally could not always make her thought-transference language +understood. This time, however, it seemed to work, for Elvira took a +book with writing in it out of a drawer in the cupboard and she said to +Miss Harvey, ‘Did I ever read you Billy Furbush-Tailby’s poem on “The +First Snowstorm of the Season”?’ + +Sally pricked up her ears, but Oxford Gray, Junior, went off to sleep, +for verses bored him. + + They fall so softly from the sky, + All coming down together; + Why did they leave the regions high + To give us stormy weather? + + Did they take pity on the earth + That looked so bare and brown, + As if it needed a new birth, + And so came fluttering down? + + Did they remember children small, + Who longed to slide and coast, + And so came down with a great fall + In a glad, joyous host? + + I watch the people as they pass + And snowflakes as they fall, + I watch the puddle that’s like glass, + I’m glad that I am small. + + For it is cozy in the house, + Beside the kitchen stove, + Watching to get a gliding mouse + While my three brothers rove, + + And scamper through the falling flakes, + No thought of verse have they, + While kind Elvira brews and bakes, + Upon this snowy day, + + Dishes that cats and kittens love, + They are a pleasant sight; + I let my brothers freely rove, + I stay at home and write. + +Sally was much impressed by the verses of her ancestor. She wished he +were here now, sitting by her on the window-sill, for Oxford Gray, +Junior, was so tiresome at times. ‘Rice, indeed, or powder!’ What a way +to speak of these marvelous fluttering things that came down to earth +from another country as if bringing a message of peace and good will! + +There was a great deal to be seen from the windows of the house. Sally +went at an early hour to the window in the hall and sat on the broad +leather cushion looking out. Miss Harvey had let her come through +when she went in to dust the parlor. Sally was greatly interested in +watching Mr. Gardiner shovel out the board walk with his big wooden +shovel. It seemed a foolish piece of work to her, for no sooner had he +shoveled off the snow than more came. ‘Why not wait until the snowstorm +was over?’ thought Sally. But people were so stupid compared with cats! + +Mr. Gardiner looked cold and tired, and as if he would like to take +Sally’s advice. He kept on working though, and the snowflakes kept on +falling. It was too bad that they would not let Oxford into this part +of the house, but ever since the candlestick had been knocked off the +study mantelpiece, they seemed to feel one cat inside was enough. They +had given him one or two more trials when there was a mouse inside, +but he had clawed a sofa cushion, and scratched a piano leg, when +sharpening his claws. If he had only behaved well, he could have been +sitting on this green cushion watching the snowstorm, for there were +three windows and he could have had one to himself. Mr. Gardiner spied +Sally in the window and he made a low bow. + +‘He has the best manners of any man I ever saw,’ Sally thought. ‘Men +usually do not stop to be polite to cats.’ + +[Illustration] + +Miss Harvey was standing in the hall just behind Sally, but Sally was +sure the bow had been meant for herself. + +When Sally went back into the kitchen, she found there was much more +to be seen there, for Elvira had thrown out some food for the birds, +and there were sparrows and grackles and pigeons picking up the crumbs. +There was some suet hanging on the branch of a pine tree and a bird +was feeding on it, swinging back and forth. Sally looked across at +the opposite house, and she saw Mrs. Conant in a storm-coat and hat +coming over to the plank walk. Perhaps this was why Mr. Gardiner had +been shoveling the snow off the plank walk so as to make it easier for +people to walk there. + +Oxford was sitting at one of the kitchen windows, and Sally was in the +other. Mrs. Conant waved to them and to Elvira as she passed. Here was +another polite person. + +The most exciting of all the windows was the bow window in the +dining-room at three o’clock in the afternoon. Sally had gone there for +a change and to have a little peace, for Oxford was in a trying mood. +Elvira came into the room with a plateful of crumbled-up bread in her +hand and opened the window. Sally looked out and saw a dozen pheasants +coming forward to get the bread. They all had sober feathers except +one bird, the pheasant cock, Elvira called him. He had a beautiful +white ring around his neck and a glorious long tail. + +‘It is not so fine a tail as mine,’ said Sally, for her long tail with +its tiger markings was her chief beauty, and was often remarked on. +‘But he has the best tail I have ever seen on a bird.’ + +Presently a cat came up stealthily, and the pheasants took instant +flight. The cat looked cold and hungry, and Sally thought how fortunate +she was to be in a warm house herself. The kittens had very little milk +for supper, for the storm was such a bad one that the milkman had not +come. + +‘We can get along without milk better than Sally and Oxford can, for +they would not understand,’ Elvira said to Miss Harvey as she put the +last milk in the pitcher into the kittens’ saucers. + +‘We understand perfectly well,’ Sally said. ‘We are not such fools as +you take us for. We can understand all that you say, and you never can +understand us.’ + +It was snowing when Sally and Oxford gave a last look out of the +window before they settled down for the night, but in the morning all +was changed, and when the sun rose, the whole world was like fairyland, +for the branches were all glistening in the sun, as if they were made +of glass. The kittens went out for a stroll and met Mrs. Conant and her +husband. They kept sinking down through the crust, but Sally and Oxford +were so light they could walk on it with ease. Mrs. Conant was wearing +a beautiful fur coat. + +‘It is almost as good-looking as mine,’ thought Sally, ‘but it must be +hard to be so big that one can’t walk on the crust. In winter I’d much +rather be a cat.’ + + + + +[Illustration] + +CHAPTER IX + +BUSY SALLY + + +Sally was a very busy cat, and she always gave her whole attention to +whatever she was doing, whether it was sitting on her register, or +washing her face, or helping Miss Harvey make the beds. Indeed, Miss +Harvey often would say, ‘Sally, you are like the little busy bee,’ +and she would repeat a part of the poem. Sally had her own opinion of +the little busy bee, and she did not especially like to be told she +was like him, for she had been stung by a bee on one occasion. Who +could have suspected that anything so small could hurt one so much? +And then where was he in winter? Certainly not gathering honey from +every opening flower. She suspected he was in snug quarters resting and +leading an idle life, while she was busy all the year around. First +there was the delicious breakfast that Miss Harvey gave Oxford and +herself, of warm milk and oatmeal, and then she spent a great deal of +time washing herself. And she had to help Oxford, for he could not wash +behind his ears, and then he would wash behind Sally’s ears to help her +out. And it took a good deal of time to manicure her nails. + +But where she felt she was of the greatest use was in helping Miss +Harvey with the beds, for dear Miss Harvey might have been lonely +without her. Did she not often say, ‘You are my little comfort’? To +be sure she sometimes said, ‘Troublesome comfort,’ but it was a great +deal to be any comfort. Sally never heard Miss Harvey call any one +else in the house a comfort, not even Oxford, who deserved such words, +for he was ridding the house of mice. So Miss Harvey and Sally would +go upstairs to make the beds; as soon as Miss Harvey had turned back +the mattress and put on a sheet, Sally would jump on the bed and knead +the sheet with her paws. But she liked to get on the blankets much the +best, they were so soft and woolly, and sometimes after patticaking +them well and going around in a circle as if she were making a bed +for herself in the Wild Wood, she would curl herself up in a ball and +settle down for a nap. It was then that Miss Harvey would call her a +troublesome comfort and gently take her off and put her on a chair. But +Sally would be back again and on the spread. + +One of Sally’s most interesting occupations was looking out of the +windows. There was so much to be seen even in winter, but when the +spring came and there was a faint green fuzz on the trees, and the +birds came back from the South and began to sing, and Sally could sun +herself out-of-doors, she was busier than ever. + +At this time of year the nights were more interesting than the days, +and she was only sorry that her dear Miss Harvey did not agree with her +as to how a night should be spent. Miss Harvey seemed to think that all +cats ought to be in bed at a certain hour, like people, whereas every +cat knows that so much goes on at night one hates to miss that it is +hard to be forced to stay in the house. Sally spent a great deal of +time sleeping by day. That was the sensible way. To race about until +one was tired and then take a long nap. And these naps could be taken +at noon when it was too hot to be out-of-doors. But even though Sally +was closed in at night, there was a great deal going on which she could +enjoy. There were concerts given by her cat friends, and there was the +wonderful moonlight that made it so bright out-of-doors, and there was +the excitement of the sound of the scurrying of small feet through the +walls and the thought that perhaps one could catch another mouse. She +agreed with her ancestress, Martha Furbush-Tailby, about these things, +and liked her verses on the subject. + +[Illustration] + + How can one ever sleep at night, + When mice are scampering through the walls, + And other cats long for a fight, + And give their piercing, shrill cat-calls? + How can one ever sleep at night, + When the great moon is round and bright? + + Long naps by day, I like that best. + When the great sun is hot and bright, + That seems the time to take a rest, + After a long and strenuous night. + It would be strange to live by rule, + As children do who go to school. + +Sometimes Sally would go into the room where all the books were, and +Miss Winifred had her writing-desk and her typewriter. Sally would +sit patiently by her mouse-hole and Miss Winifred would sit by her +typewriter with her hands in her lap, for it sometimes seemed to be +as hard to catch ideas as to catch a mouse, and then suddenly Miss +Winifred’s fingers would fly over the keys and the black writing would +come out on the paper. Sally had many ideas herself, in fact she was +never at a loss for them. She wished she could write on the typewriter, +and once, when Miss Winifred had left it uncovered with a sheet of +paper in it, she had walked over the keys, but she could not make it +write. She wanted to write a letter to dear Miss Harvey to tell her how +she loved her. Of course Miss Harvey must know in part how she felt, +for she so often put her paws around her neck and pressed her face +against hers, but a letter could tell more. + +So one day when Miss Winifred had left a sheet of typewriting paper on +her desk, Sally skipped onto it. She looked down and saw that the marks +of her paws were plainly to be seen. This was what the footprints said: + + DEAR MISS HARVEY: + + I love you best of all the people in the house. In some ways you + are dearer than Oxford, although I could not get along without my + splendid twin brother, but you make me think of my own dear mother, + for you are so cozy and so kind. Of course she did not look like you, + for she was just a small cat like myself. I mean you are like her in + disposition. It is Sally Gray writing this. It is the first letter + I ever wrote. I just had to thank you for all your kindness. Elvira + is nice, too, but not as gentle as you are, and Miss Winifred doesn’t + mean to step on my tail, only you never step on it, not even by + accident, so some people are more thoughtful than others. + + Your own most loving + + SALLY + +She heard Miss Winifred coming and jumped down on the floor. Miss +Winifred took up the sheet of paper and was about to put it into the +typewriter. + +‘Don’t,’ Sally pleaded in her thought-transference language. ‘That is +my letter to Miss Harvey, the first I ever wrote.’ + +But Miss Winifred could not understand. She looked at the paper a +little more closely with her near-sighted eyes. + +‘Goodness, you little witch,’ she said, ‘you have walked all over my +sheet.’ + +Sally saw that she was about to put it into the waste-paper basket. + +‘It is my letter,’ Sally repeated in her own language. How she wished +she had human speech! But this time it really seemed as if Miss +Winifred understood, for she called to Miss Harvey, who was setting the +table in the dining-room. + +‘Come here a minute and see what Sally has done,’ she said as she held +up the sheet. ‘See Sally’s paw-marks all over the paper. I think she +must have been writing a love-letter to you.’ + +Sally never knew whether Miss Harvey could read what she had written, +but, after all, it did not make much difference whether or not she +could make out the actual words, for she seemed so pleased to have it. + +‘Dear little Sally,’ she said, and she stopped to stroke the pussy in +passing her. ‘So you thought you would write a letter? I must show it +to Elvira.’ + + + + +[Illustration] + +CHAPTER X + +MOODS + + +Sally was a cat with moods. When she was well and busy, she was a happy +kitten, but if there was the least thing wrong with her, she felt very +forlorn. It was at these times that she thought of her dear mother and +lamented her loss, for even dear Miss Harvey, who understood so well +the feelings of a cat, could not quite make up for a furry mother who +would put her paw about her and wash her when she was too tired to do +it for herself. Oxford was not of much use as a sympathizer, and yet +Sally always had the hope that he would be. + +So one hot summer day, when Sally felt very unhappy and as if she were +of no use to any one, she spoke to Oxford of her feelings. + +‘I feel as if I were a perfectly useless cat,’ she said. ‘You can do so +much for the family.’ + +The kittens were in the shade of the oak tree near the front door. It +was a delightful spot, for they could have a view of the path, and see +any one who went up or down it. Then, too, if any one came to the door, +like the postman, they could take the chance to slip into the house, +without bothering to go around to the back door. + +Oxford made no reply. + +Suddenly Sally remembered something she had heard in a sermon that +Elvira was reading out of a newspaper. The preacher had said that the +best way to forget one’s own troubles was to do something for some one +else. + +‘Oxford, wouldn’t you like me to wash around your ears?’ she said. + +‘Oh, bother, no,’ said Oxford. + +‘I feel so blue to-day,’ she said. ‘I thought maybe if I did something +useful like washing your ears I’d feel better.’ + +‘There’s no use in doing something useful that nobody wants you to do,’ +said he. + +Sally hoped he would add, ‘My poor little sister, I am so sorry you are +blue,’ but instead of that he said, ‘Sally, you have been eating too +many grasshoppers.’ + +Sally was pretty sure this was the case, but she had hoped Oxford would +not have thought of it. + +‘Grasshoppers are so alluring,’ said Sally. She had picked up this word +from one of Miss Winifred’s callers who was speaking of the moving +pictures. It certainly applied to grasshoppers which were so constantly +on the move. + +‘You see,’ Sally went on, ‘they are hard to catch, and if you do catch +a grasshopper, there doesn’t seem any point in letting it go.’ + +‘You could give them to me,’ said Oxford. + +‘But you get more than I do.’ + +‘Yes, that is true. But they never upset me and make me blue. If they +affected my spirits, I should cut down on grasshoppers.’ + +Sally knew this would have been the case. She admired her brother’s +strength of character. + +Just then Sally saw her friend, Mrs. Conant, going down the path with +some letters to mail. She stopped to speak to the kittens. + +‘Well, you do know how to make yourselves comfortable,’ she said as she +passed. She had on one of the pretty pink-and-white dresses that Sally +liked so much, and in her present mood she thought how nice it would be +to be a pretty young lady whom every one loved, with a thin cool dress +on instead of fur. + +Although Oxford did not express his affection, he was very fond of +his little sister, and he wanted to help her. But he could not resist +saying, ‘Sally, you ought to learn to brace up.’ He quickly added, +‘Suppose we play with our catnip mice for a change? Maybe the catnip +will brace you up.’ + +They saw Miss Winifred and a friend coming up the path. This meant a +fine chance to get into the house, so the kittens went up the steps and +stood before the front door. + +‘Dear me!’ said Miss Winifred, ‘I wonder how long you have been waiting +here.’ She took out her latch-key and, as she opened the door, the +kittens slipped in ahead of her. They ran along to the door that led +to the kitchen. Miss Winifred followed them and, as it was dark in that +corner, she stooped down to see if the kittens were there. Yes, she +felt two furry backs, they were patiently waiting for her to open the +door. + +Once in the kitchen, Oxford gave a leap from a chair to the small shelf +on which the clock stood, for on it were the catnip mice. He knocked +off first one and then the other. + +‘Bless your heart,’ said Elvira, as she looked at Sally. ‘You look a +little peaked to-day. Too many grasshoppers, I fear.’ + +Miss Harvey came into the kitchen just then and Sally got into her lap +and put her two paws around her neck, for she wanted a little petting. +There are times when this is even more comforting than catnip. + +‘My poor little Sally,’ said Miss Harvey, as she stroked the pussy. ‘My +poor, dear, little Sally. Did she feel as if she wanted some one to pet +her? I understand, dear, just how you feel.’ + +Miss Harvey was tactful enough not to refer to the grasshoppers. + +Oxford was already playing with his catnip mouse, tossing it high in +the air and running to sniff it where it fell. Suddenly Sally scrambled +down from Miss Harvey’s lap and flew toward Oxford’s mouse, seizing it +before his astonished eyes. + +‘Silly kittens,’ said Elvira. ‘There are two mice, you can each have +one,’ and she picked up the other mouse and threw it on the floor. Then +they both ran to get that mouse. Sally had it in her mouth and Oxford +knocked it out. + +‘Oh, if that is your game, all right,’ said Elvira, who was an +understanding person. + +Sally felt much refreshed after half an hour spent with the catnip +mice, and as usually happened after a time with this stimulating +plaything, she felt like talking in verse instead of prose. Even Oxford +felt like answering back in rhyme. It was a fine game. + + _Sally_: I’d like to be a lady fair, + All dressed in silks and fur, + With rosy lips and golden hair, + And speech, instead of purr. + + My father’d give me a fur coat, + And on a summer day, + When on the waters I could float, + I’d put my coat away. + + Were I in silk instead of fur, + How pleasant that would be, + Pink silk I’d choose, and, Oxford Gray, + You’d be so proud of me! + + _Oxford_: Pink silk, indeed, you foolish maid, + Why can’t you be content? + You’re costumed for both sun and shade, + Nor does it cost a cent. + + Sally, I’d hate the sight of you, + I like you as you are, + A modest kitten, sweet and true, + With eyes that see afar. + + _Sally_: Well, Oxford, since I’m dear to you, + Thankful I ought to be, + For human brothers oft find fault + With sisters’ fineree. + + Perhaps the lady in her silk + And coat of costly fur, + Would sometimes like my bowl of milk, + If she could have my purr. + + For cares, they say, must come with wealth, + And, Oxford, we are free + To roam the house at night, by stealth, + With mice for company. + + To sleep all night, when mice are near, + Would seem a waste of time, + Than ladies I am surely freer, + For I can race and climb. + + _Oxford_: Now, Sally, there’s my own good cat, + A cat of parts and sense, + Your wits are sharp, I’m sure of that, + People are often dense. + + Of all the creatures on this earth + The kitten’s life is best, + I’ve always known this from my birth, + I pity all the rest. + + The men I pity very much, + They cannot watch the ants, + And grasshoppers, and worms, and such, + In their accustomed haunts. + + I’d hate to be so very tall, + A man I would not be, + It’s easier if you are small, + To climb a chestnut tree. + + My fur coat is a grand affair, + It did not cost a cent. + Were I a man and fur did wear, + What hundreds would be spent! + + The lesson surely seems to read, + And it is very plain, + To make the most of what you are, + With heart, and paws, and brain. + + + + +[Illustration] + +CHAPTER XI + +PETER + + +Sally and Oxford felt just alike about Peter. They could neither of +them bear him. He was a fine-looking brown tiger cat with large stripes +and a large white shirt-front and four white paws. He had once been +a valued house-cat, but was now without a home. They suspected that +Elvira sometimes gave him meals on their piazza, for they now felt the +back porch belonged to them. When kittens have lived for more than a +year and a half in a place and have grown into young cats, the place +seems to belong to them, so Oxford stalked around as if he were a +police-cat on duty, keeping out intruders. + +‘Of course the back yard is mine,’ he said. ‘Indeed, I feel that I own +the place more than Miss Winifred does.’ + +‘But her father left it to her,’ Sally reminded him. + +‘I suppose she has a certain claim to it, but he never knew us,’ said +Oxford. ‘I am sure he would have loved us if he had known us. Don’t +you remember the story that has come down to us, of how he held our +great-grandfather, William Furbush-Tailby, on his knee? Anyway, we get +a great deal more good out of the place than Miss Winifred. I have +never seen her climb a tree, and we can climb one any time and get away +from a dog, and she never goes into the Wild Wood, and she does not +know all our little hiding-places, and she could not get into them, +anyway.’ + +‘I do feel as if we were more important,’ said Sally. ‘Many a time I’ve +heard Elvira say, “I’ll come to you in a few minutes, Miss Winifred, +but Oxford has just come in. I must give him his supper, for he won’t +understand being kept waiting.”’ + +But whoever the true owner of the house might be, it certainly did not +belong to Peter, and Oxford had told him so on more than one occasion. +He had chased him off the place several times, but Peter, although he +seemed gentle, was a persistent soul, and as he was fond of the bread +and canned salmon that kind Elvira put out on the back piazza for him, +he came back over and over again. + +‘If I ever really get my paw on him, I’ll give him such a thrashing +that he’ll remember it all his life,’ Oxford said to Sally. + +Now it just darted through Sally’s mind, that it might be the other way +around, for Peter, although he was mild in his demeanor, was larger +than Oxford, and at least two years older, but being wise beyond her +months, she merely said, ‘It will be grand, Oxford, if you can thrash +him.’ + +‘Of course I can,’ said her brother, swelling with pride. ‘Don’t you +remember the tradition about the first Furbush, Martha’s ancestor, how +he would get the better of every cat in a fight and earned the name of +William the Conqueror?’ + +‘Yes,’ said Sally, ‘I remember, but he was a full-grown cat.’ + +‘I don’t expect to get hurt, and it is certainly best to get rid of +that vagabond at once, before Elvira gets fond of him.’ + +The fight came off one bright November day. Sally was looking out of +the kitchen window, and Oxford was sunning himself in the back yard. +There was a plate of canned salmon mixed with bread on the back piazza. +That could not be for Oxford, for both he and she had grown so dainty +that they liked stew meat and haddock better than canned salmon. Elvira +must be leaving it out there for some cat. She saw Peter coming through +a place in the fence that was made for small animals to get through. +She hoped to attract Oxford’s attention and ran around to the kitchen +door, but it was closed. Jumping up on the window-sill again, she saw +Peter quickly run up the steps and begin to taste the food. Oxford +flew up the steps and began to fight Peter. He flew at Oxford and put +his claws in his fur. Oxford grappled with him, and the two cats went +rolling down the steps. + +Sally, from her perch on the window-sill, saw that it was as she had +feared. After a long fight, Peter went swiftly away in fine condition, +while Oxford came haltingly up the steps with a lame paw--a sadder and +a wiser cat. Although he respected Peter more, his dislike of him +increased, and he was determined to drive him off the place. + +‘If I had advised him not to fight, he wouldn’t have liked it,’ thought +Sally. ‘He would have just said, “Sally, you never do brace up.”’ + +After this, Oxford and Sally saw no more of Peter for some weeks. +Sometimes they saw a plate of canned salmon and bread on the back +piazza and lay in wait for him, but Oxford never caught him. Twice they +saw at dusk a shadowy form vanishing into the Wild Wood. + +One evening there was a great snowstorm and Oxford had not come home. +Miss Winifred seemed the most worried, and this was strange, as she had +not wanted him in the beginning. + +‘Poor little pussy, hasn’t he come back yet?’ she asked Elvira after +supper. + +‘No, Miss Winifred, and I’ve called until I’m hoarse.’ + +‘It is a wild storm,’ said Miss Winifred. + +‘I am sure Oxford is safe and warm somewhere,’ said Elvira; ‘he’s a cat +who knows how to look out for himself.’ + +‘Yes,’ said Miss Harvey, ‘if it was my little Sally, I should be +terribly worried.’ + +Sally was sitting on Miss Harvey’s knee at the time, and at these words +she put her furry paws around her neck and rubbed her face against +hers. ‘I am sure he is all right,’ she said in her cat language that +people could not understand. ‘He always comes back.’ + +‘Of course he always has come back,’ said Miss Winifred, as if she had +understood, ‘but there comes a time--some of your pets have gone away +and never come back, Elvira.’ + +Then Sally thought of her grandmother and of her brave father, the +mighty hunter, and of her mother, so cozy and so kind. How terrible it +would be if Oxford should disappear as they had done! + +‘I will go and call him,’ said Miss Winifred. ‘Maybe he will come in +for me.’ + +‘For you?’ said Elvira. ‘You and he have never been great friends.’ + +Miss Winifred went to the front door and stepped into the piazza that +was glassed in for winter. The storm was raging outside. She opened the +glass door of the piazza and the wind blew the snow into her face. It +was deep on the steps. + +‘Oxford Gray, Oxford Gray, Oxford Gray, Junior!’ she called. ‘Darling +pussy, do come!’ + +She had never called him ‘darling pussy’ before, but our friends grow +very dear to us if we fear losing them. + +‘Oxford, Oxford Gray, Junior!’ she called again. + +Something furry brushed against her feet. She stooped and patted the +fur coat all crusted over with snow. + +‘How friendly you are! You were never so friendly before. Walk in, +darling pussy,’ she said, as she opened the hall door. + +The hungry and cold cat rubbed against her feet once more as if in +gratitude. She walked along the front hall to the door at the back that +led into the kitchen. + +‘Here he is! Here is Oxford Gray, Junior, himself,’ she said. ‘He came +for me. He knew my voice.’ + +Elvira was greatly surprised. ‘He just happened to come along at that +time,’ she said; then, as she started to brush the casing of snow from +the cat, she said, ‘This isn’t Oxford Gray, Junior. This is Peter.’ + +‘Peter!’ gasped Miss Winifred. ‘Who on earth is Peter?’ + +‘Somebody’s house-cat; somebody’s pet that has been left to make his +own way in the world.’ + +‘How did he happen to come here? Is he one of your friends who takes +his meals at your cafeteria on the piazza?’ + +‘He’s had a few meals,’ Elvira admitted. ‘And he will have as many more +as he likes. I’d rather spend my money feeding cats than going to the +movies. It’s more amusing to me.’ + +‘Of course we must keep him for the night,’ said Miss Winifred, ‘and he +must have a good meal, but I really can’t keep him permanently, Elvira; +two cats are quite enough.’ + +‘Oxford agrees with you,’ said Elvira. ‘You’ll have no trouble once he +gets home.’ + +The next morning the sun shone, and Oxford came back as unconcernedly +as if he had caused no anxiety. No one knew his adventures except +Sally, but he looked so prosperous and seemed so little to desire food +that the family were sure he had been housed somewhere. + +As he went out for a stroll later in the morning, he met Peter coming +out of the cellar door. + +‘What have you been doing in my house?’ he demanded sternly. + +For once the silent Peter found his tongue. ‘It is my house now,’ he +said proudly. ‘Miss Winifred asked me in herself.’ + +‘She didn’t!’ Oxford exclaimed. + +‘She did! She said, “Walk in, darling pussy,” so I walked in.’ + + + + +[Illustration] + +CHAPTER XII + +SALLY AND THE LOUD SPEAKER + + +Sally spent a great deal of time in the parlor. In the morning she +often had it to herself, for Miss Winifred was usually out of the +house, or writing on her typewriter. ‘The parlor is mine in the +morning,’ she told Oxford. + +‘You can go into your old parlor all you like,’ said he. ‘I like my +kitchen best.’ + +Sally suspected that his scorn of the parlor came because he was not +allowed to go into it, as he was not as quiet and well-behaved as Sally. + +In the evening Miss Harvey often sat there reading the newspaper to +Miss Winifred. Sally was often bored by the newspaper, and she would +get up in Miss Harvey’s lap and sit on it so that she could not read. +Miss Harvey would say in her gentle voice, ‘Come, Sally, please get off +my paper.’ + +Sally would pretend that she did not understand, and she would put her +furry paws around Miss Harvey’s neck and press her furry face against +her cheek. + +‘Sally, you are a nuisance,’ were the unkindest words Miss Harvey +ever said, and Sally would once more pretend she did not understand. +Sometimes Miss Harvey would stop reading if it was almost bedtime; +Sally always hoped this would happen, and sometimes she would gently +put Sally on the center table, where she would settle for a nap in the +friendly warmth of the electric lamp. + +Once in a great while there would be an interesting piece of news in +the paper. Once she heard something about the President’s pets, and +there was a wonderful occasion when there was something worth while +in the paper and Sally learned that the President’s wife was fond of +pets, and that once, before she was in the White House, she had found +a mouse-hole in the room she was in, in some hotel, and had trained +the mice and given them food. Sally’s eyes fairly glistened. What a +pity that she had not been near that mouse-hole herself! It would have +been so easy to catch a tame mouse, and if she caught one, Oxford could +never be so scornful again. + +Sometimes Miss Harvey would put down the paper and she and Miss +Winifred would have a friendly chat, and it was at one of these times +that Sally learned the piece of news she told Oxford the next day as +she and Oxford were sunning themselves on the back porch after an +exhausting morning of exercise. + +‘I hear that Miss Winifred is going to have a loud speaker,’ she said. + +‘I am sorry to hear it,’ said he; ‘there are enough loud speakers +around the house as it is. I have sensitive ears.’ + +‘Miss Harvey has a sweet voice,’ said Sally, ‘only every one has to +talk louder to Miss Winifred, and I suppose she wants some one to talk +to her when the others are busy.’ + +‘You would do very well for that job,’ said Oxford; ‘for a small cat I +never heard such a rasping, powerful voice.’ + +‘Yes, Miss Winifred always hears me,’ said Sally. + +‘I have a very gentlemanly mew,’ said Oxford; ‘any one would know I had +Furbush-Tailby blood just to hear my mew. But, to hear you and not see +you, Sally, no one would suspect for a moment that you were a lady.’ + +‘They’d know it if they saw me,’ said Sally. ‘Miss Harvey often says I +am a perfect little lady.’ + +‘I wonder if the loud speaker will be a man or a woman,’ Oxford said. + +Sally wondered, too, and whenever she was in the parlor and any one +called, she listened to the voice of the caller with great interest. + +One afternoon a gentleman called with a strong, loud voice. He called +Miss Mann ‘Cousin Winifred.’ Sally was sure he was the loud speaker and +that he had come to stay. + +After some conversation that did not interest Sally, he fixed his eyes +on her as she sat in the corner on her register and he said, ‘You have +a cat, I see.’ + +‘She isn’t exactly mine,’ said Miss Winifred, ‘but she does me the +honor to live in my house; she has a brother who lives here also, and +there is another cat, Peter, who thinks he lives with us because he +takes all his meals here and sleeps here on cold, stormy nights, but +Oxford Gray, Junior, is certain he does not and drives him away.’ + +At last the conversation was becoming interesting. Sally wondered what +the loud speaker would say. She had an idea by the way he had looked at +herself that he did not realize the importance of cats. + +‘I went to call on two ladies the other day,’ he said, ‘who were +longing to go back to the State of Washington where they used to live, +but they said they could not go because the journey would be too much +for their cat, who was old and settled in his ways.’ + +Sally wished she knew the ladies. They understood something of life and +saw things in their right proportion. + +‘I suggested to them that they could give their cat away, or send him +to the Animal Rescue League,’ the loud speaker went on. + +Sally became alarmed. If this were, indeed, the loud speaker, and he +came here to live, what chance was there for Oxford and herself? Would +he not make a clean sweep of all who wore fur coats? She was relieved +to find by Miss Winifred’s next question that he had a wife and several +children. He surely could not be leaving them to come and live here +just to talk to Miss Winifred. Presently he took his hat and went to +the door, shaking hands with Miss Winifred, and saying it had been good +to see her, and never giving one glance in Sally’s direction. + +‘It was rude of him,’ Sally said to herself, ‘when I am a perfect lady. +It never does any harm to be polite.’ + +A few days later, something that had a strange appearance was on the +piano. Sally found it there one afternoon. It looked like a very small +bureau with knobs in odd places, and two things that looked like +clocks. Sally wondered what it could be. There was a small round table +close by the piano, and on this was standing a long black thing, shaped +something like a huge calla lily. + +The next afternoon, when Sally was upstairs, she heard a concert going +on in the parlor. There were several shrill voices and it sounded very +much like the concerts Sally’s cat friends sometimes gave. But these +took place at night. Sally was of a curious nature, and she hurried +down to see what was going on. To her surprise when she reached the +parlor not a soul was to be seen except Miss Winifred. Sally had never +heard her sing, and the sound seemed to be coming out of the black +calla lily, for the piano was shut. Presently Miss Winifred touched +one of the knobs and the music came to an end. Sally was more and more +mystified. Then Miss Winifred touched a knob and Sally heard a man say, +‘This is the friendly voice of Boston.’ Sally agreed that Boston had a +nice voice, but he was nowhere to be seen. She looked around the room, +but could see no one. She went under the piano, thinking Boston might +be there. Some one was giving a talk about grapefruit juice. Sally did +not care about the talk, for she liked milk for her drink. Finally she +got up on the table on which the big black calla lily stood and looked +down into it. The voice sounded so loud, Sally was frightened. She +skipped down and ran out into the kitchen to tell Oxford about it. + +‘There’s a man that’s only got a voice and no body, and he lives in the +black thing on the table, and his name is Boston,’ she told him. ‘And +sometimes he sings.’ + +‘That’s the radio,’ said Oxford. ‘I heard Miss Harvey talking to Elvira +about it. They have them in all the houses now. Even Peter knows about +them.’ + +‘You didn’t know anything about it the other day,’ Sally ventured. + +‘It is a long time since the other day,’ said Oxford, ‘and since then +I have given my entire spare time to research. I have tried hard to +learn all I could about the loud speakers and radios. Mr. Gardiner has +one and I heard him talking to Miss Harvey. If one has masculine brains +and sharp ears, there is no end to what one can learn. Sally, you are +behind the times.’ + + + + +[Illustration] + +CHAPTER XIII + +SALLY BRACES UP + + +Now that Sally was used to the radio, she took a good deal of pleasure +in it, in fact on very cold days she enjoyed it more than Miss Winifred +did, for the parlor was a large room and the piano, where the radio +stood, was between two long glass doors that let in a good deal of air +through the cracks in winter weather. Sally, with her sharp ears, could +hear every word the loud speaker said when she sat on her register +in the opposite corner of the room. Sally knew that it was her own +register, for there was another in the room. This one in the corner +was often closed, so that Sally could lie there at her ease and feel +just a pleasant warmth. Miss Winifred, who did not have a fur coat like +Sally, had to walk up near the loud speaker and she was cold in that +corner even with a sweater on. Yes, there were many advantages in being +a cat, Sally thought. It was fine to have perfect sight and not to have +to wear eye-glasses and to be so small you could lie on a register, +and hear every word the loud speaker said. But people had no choice; +perhaps many of them like herself would prefer to be cats. + +This New Year’s Eve she was especially interested in the sermon Miss +Winifred was hearing. It seemed made on purpose for cats, for it +spoke of the grace and gayety of a young kitten chasing its tail. +Sally pricked up her ears at this. She liked the minister, whoever he +might be. He understood something about life. He went on to say how +sympathy should be given to all young things. There was a part Sally +did not quite understand, and then she was struck by these words: ‘The +beginning of the New Year is a good time to make resolutions, but every +day is the beginning of a new year, we do not have to wait.’ Sally was +glad of this, for a year was so very long to a cat. However, as there +was to be a year beginning, it seemed a good time to make resolutions. +She talked the matter over with Oxford afterward. + +‘One of your resolutions, I should say, ought to be to brace up,’ said +he. + +‘Yes,’ said Sally meekly, ‘that is one.’ + +‘I should think,’ he added, somewhat scornfully, ‘that it was about +time you caught a mouse.’ + +‘Yes, that is another of my resolutions,’ said she. + +‘I have a few in mind,’ said Oxford. ‘I mean to give Peter the biggest +thrashing he has ever had.’ + +‘And I surely will catch a mouse sometime, I promise you I will,’ said +Sally. + +‘I don’t think it at all probable,’ he said dryly. ‘You’ll have to +learn to brace up first.’ + +It was springtime before the great event occurred. Every day in the new +year Sally had remembered the words of the preacher. She said them over +and over to herself every morning, ‘Each day is the beginning of a new +year,’ and every morning she had said to herself, ‘I will try to catch +a mouse before the day is over.’ + +Sally thought there were other things in life that were as important +as bracing up. Was not patience equally commendable? And how about +unselfishness? Would Oxford ever have the patience to sit for hours at +a mouse-hole? Would he ever let her take a part of his food? But Oxford +was a wonderful cat, a dream to look at compared with her, with his +pink nose and his expansive white shirt-front. She had a tiger face and +small white shirt-front, and even if patience and perseverance were +rewarded at last and she caught her mouse, she could never be a mighty +hunter. But he, with his rough ways, was never allowed in the parlor +and she was. After all, life had its compensations. + +All the same, Sally longed to catch a mouse. + +The exciting event took place when Miss Winifred and Elvira had gone +on their usual spring visit to New Hampshire. And it did not happen +at all as Sally thought it would. It was early in the morning. Miss +Harvey, Sally, and Oxford were alone in the house. Miss Harvey had made +the kitchen fire, and put the tea-kettle on the stove. Oxford was just +waking up and stretching himself. Sally, who was wide awake, saw a +mouse glide past her on the freshly scrubbed kitchen floor. She darted +forward and seized the mouse. She had it firmly in her mouth. It was +still alive, but she knew it could not escape. Oxford roused himself. +Sally looked at him with triumph in her eyes. ‘See what I have caught. +Didn’t I tell you I would catch a mouse?’ she seemed to say. + +[Illustration] + +Oxford dashed forward angrily and knocked the mouse out of Sally’s +mouth. Sally had never been so angry in her life. Miss Harvey, hearing +the commotion, turned just before Oxford had reached Sally. She saw +what happened. The mouse was flying along the kitchen floor toward the +outside door. Miss Harvey thought it most provoking of Oxford. + +‘Poor dear,’ she said to Sally, ‘it was your mouse.’ + +Sally was glad some one understood. + +Miss Harvey opened the kitchen door that led into the passageway and +then the outside door. Her sympathies were divided between Sally and +the mouse. Poor tiny creature! It looked so frightened, and, after all, +it probably enjoyed its life as much as Sally liked hers. But if that +wretched Oxford got the mouse, Miss Harvey felt there was no justice +to be looked for in this world. When she opened the door, she saw the +mouse scurrying down the steps, and Sally and Oxford following after +each other, tumbling down the steps in hot pursuit. It was as exciting +as any race she had ever seen. Sally for once lost her temper as the +mouse disappeared from view. She did not say all she thought. She said +only a part of it, but Oxford was so astonished by what she did say +that she seemed a different Sally in his eyes. + +After she had spoken her vehement words, she returned to the house. +Oxford felt taken down for the moment, but he soon rose to the occasion. + +‘It was a sort of an accident your catching that mouse,’ he said. +‘Anybody can catch a mouse if it goes just where they are.’ + +Sally was already beginning to cool down. + +‘Not everybody,’ she said. ‘Miss Harvey has told me more than once that +she never caught a mouse in her life.’ + + + + +[Illustration] + +CHAPTER XIV + +SALLY AND SPOT + + +‘The Conants have got a dog,’ Sally said to Oxford one day. ‘Isn’t that +awful?’ + +‘Are you sure they’ve got one?’ + +‘Yes, I heard Miss Harvey say so, and I’ve seen him.’ + +‘You’ve seen him?’ + +‘Yes, he was skipping about in our clothes-yard this morning. Miss +Harvey wouldn’t let me out. She said it was too dangerous. I was afraid +you’d meet him.’ + +‘What does he look like?’ + +‘Miss Harvey told Elvira he was a wire-haired terrier. He’s white with +a black spot. He’s not so terribly big, but it seems he hates cats and +loves to chase them. Miss Harvey thinks he would kill us if he got the +chance.’ + +‘I’m quite sure he wouldn’t kill me,’ said Oxford. + +‘I don’t suppose he would, but he might kill me.’ + +‘Not if I am around, Sally. You had better never go out without me.’ + +Oxford and Sally were sitting in the kitchen windows as they were +talking, and they could look across at the windows in the Conant house. +Suddenly Sally gave a hiss. + +‘What is the matter?’ asked Elvira. + +‘He’s there; it’s himself,’ said Sally, but Elvira could not understand. + +Oxford understood, and he looked across at the Conant house. There, in +one of the windows, was the monster who would like to kill cats. + +He was not so terrible to look at. The cats gazed at him fascinated. He +looked back at them with a fixed gaze. + +Elvira heard some more hisses and going to the window she saw Spot. + +‘Bless your hearts, he can’t get you,’ said Elvira. ‘There are two sets +of window-panes between you and Spot.’ + +It gave a new thrill to life having Spot living next door, but it was +most inconvenient, for Oxford and Sally were always kept in when Spot +was taking his exercise. + +‘He doesn’t seem to realize this place is ours,’ said Oxford. ‘He walks +into this clothes-yard, just as bold as if it belonged to him.’ + +‘But there is no fence between the two places,’ said Sally. ‘We go into +Mrs. Conant’s garden whenever we like.’ + +‘We are old settlers,’ said Oxford. ‘We have a right to go where we +please, but I call it bold for an impudent young puppy to come over +into our yard. Before we know it, he will be in the Wild Wood.’ + +He had an endless fascination for them, however. They liked to watch +him starting out at an early hour in the morning for an airing with +Mrs. Conant’s husband. They trembled and felt safer when he went back +to the house and the door closed. + +Elvira would say, ‘I think it is safe for Oxford and Sally to go out +now. It will be some time before Spot goes out again.’ + +They never felt much security when they were out, for at any moment the +door of the Conant house might open and the monster might come out. + +‘Anyway, he can’t climb trees,’ said Oxford, ‘and there are a lot of +them about.’ + +As the days passed and nothing happened, they grew less and less afraid +of their enemy and more and more confident, and there was always the +excitement of sitting at the kitchen windows and looking across at Spot +as he sat at his window. Sometimes they saw Mrs. Conant pass the window +with Spot frisking along by her side. She would wave her hand as she +passed. It was the season of the year when her pretty pink dress seemed +to Sally more suitable to the weather than her own coat of fur. + +Sally felt sure that some day there would be a meeting between herself +and Spot. She did not know why she felt so sure of this. When she spoke +of her fears to Oxford, he said: ‘How silly you are, Sally. All you +have to do is to stay close by me, and I will defend you with my good +right paw.’ + +‘I am sure you would,’ said Sally, ‘but sometimes you go off on +journeys. I can’t stay shut up in the house all day when you go on a +journey.’ + +‘Of course, I can’t give up all my pleasure trips to stay at home and +protect you. The only safe thing is never to go out unless you see that +impudent scoundrel’s face in the window. When he’s in, he can’t be out.’ + +‘But he might suddenly be let out,’ said Sally. + +And this was exactly what did happen one bright day in early June when +Oxford was away for a day or two. + +Sally saw Spot in the window and she mewed to be let out. She mewed and +mewed until even Miss Winifred heard. The others were at the top of the +house. They could hear her, but it was a long way to come down just for +Sally. + +‘Poor pussy,’ said Miss Winifred, as she opened the kitchen door. ‘What +do you want?’ + +Sally mewed again in her strong voice and went to the outside door. + +‘Do you want to go out?’ said Miss Winifred, as she opened the screen +door. + +Sally made it evident that she did. She ran down the steps to the +clothes-yard. It was good to get out into the bright sunshine, and +she ran down toward the street. Suddenly she heard an awful bark and +looking up she saw that the monster was almost upon her. Trembling all +over, Sally fairly flew over the ground and scampered up the nearest +tree. There she sat looking down on Spot. He was standing still at the +foot of the tree looking up at her. Some time passed, and finally Sally +gathered courage to ask, + +‘How long are you going to stay there?’ + +‘Until you come down,’ said Spot. + +‘I mean to stay here a long time,’ said Sally. ‘Days, perhaps. It is +very comfortable in this tree.’ + +‘Is it? It doesn’t look so.’ + +Time passed. It seemed hours to Sally. The round sun was getting low in +the heavens, and still that awful dog stood there at the foot of the +tree. Sally did not dare to come down. + +‘I’ve often seen you in the window,’ said Sally pleasantly. ‘I should +think you would want to go back to that nice window; it seems a little +cold here.’ + +[Illustration] + +‘I’ve often noticed you at your window,’ said Spot. ‘I was thinking it +was about time for you to go home.’ + +‘I mean to stay out all night,’ said Sally. ‘I never was out all night. +My friends give fine concerts then. There is to be a moon to-night.’ + +Time passed, and Sally was growing hungry and tired. Would no one come +for her? Miss Harvey and Elvira would not know she had been let out, +and she had heard them say that Miss Winifred was going off for the +night. Poor Sally was getting more and more miserable. + +‘Don’t you think Mrs. Conant will worry if you stay out so long?’ she +asked. + +‘She never worries. She lets me lead a free life. How about Elvira and +Miss Harvey? What will they think if you don’t come in?’ + +‘They don’t know I’m out.’ + +The sky was clouding over and the bright sun was going to set long +before its time in a bank of gray. + +‘It is going to rain,’ said Sally. ‘I don’t mind the rain at all +because of my warm fur coat.’ All the same, she didn’t like to get wet. +‘Do you mind the rain, Spot?’ + +‘No, but it isn’t going to rain,’ he said. + +Sally was now longing to get into the house. She gave another of her +piercing mews which she had been giving at intervals, but she was some +distance from the house and Elvira did not know that she was out. + +[Illustration] + +‘Some cat is in trouble. It sounds a little like Sally’s mew,’ Elvira +said to Miss Harvey. ‘Did you let her out?’ + +‘No, I am sure she is somewhere around the house.’ + +Presently, to Sally’s joy, she saw Mrs. Conant coming along the avenue. + +‘Why, Spotty, what are you doing here?’ she asked. + +She looked up to see what the dog was watching, and she saw poor Sally +in the tree. + +‘Come, Spotty, come home at once and let that poor cat alone,’ she said. + +As she passed the kitchen window she said: ‘One of your cats has been +treed by Spotty. I am very sorry. He ought to have better manners.’ + +‘She is the nicest person,’ Sally said to herself as she scrambled +down the tree after she heard the front door close on Mrs. Conant and +her dog. ‘She understands the feelings of a cat, but it is strange +she could not tell the difference between Oxford and me. Perhaps I’m +growing better-looking now I am fatter.’ + + + + +[Illustration] + +CHAPTER XV + +THE FAMILY TREE + + +It seemed strange to Sally that as nice a person as Mrs. Conant should +care as much as she did for a creature like Spot. It was all she could +do to listen in silence to a conversation that she had with Miss +Winifred one afternoon in the parlor. The two were sitting on the sofa +while Sally was looking out of the window. + +She was watching some birds that were taking a bath in the bird bath. +First a blue jay went in and splashed about, and after he came out, a +robin fluttered down from his perch in a tree. + +‘Spot has a good pedigree,’ said Mrs. Conant. ‘His Family Tree is quite +as good in its way as Mr. Conant’s.’ + +Sally listened while the two ladies talked of these matters, and she +thought of her glorious ancestors. She wished she had a Family Tree +herself, but later, when she talked the matter over with Oxford, he +said it was nonsense. + +‘Let us play with our catnip mice,’ he said. + +As usual they had a fine time and Sally was so stimulated that she felt +like talking in verse. + + I long to have a family tree + And show to all my true descent, + But Oxford says a family tree + Is not a tree for kittens meant. + To know his father is enough, + For he was made of valiant stuff. + + But I would like to trace them all, + Back to proud William of great fame, + Who lived, they say, in princely hall, + And bore almost a royal name, + Down to myself, then, all would say, + ‘She’s royal, though she’s small and gray.’ + + There were great singers in my race, + Who sat upon the garden wall, + Tenors, sopranos, and a bass, + Who nightly concerts gave to all, + And mighty hunters were the rule + But Oxford thinks me such a fool. + + He says his mind he will not vex + About such matters, that it’s base, + But I am of the other sex + And I delight in pride of race, + But Oxford only says, says he, + Strong paws are more than ancestry. + + To catch a mouse is better far + Than grandfathers of high degree, + He loved his friendly grandmamma, + And nothing but a waif was she. + The day is bright, some tree we’ll climb, + To stay indoors would be a crime. + + I know if I have children fair, + Some little kittens good to see, + Furry and bright, a lusty pair, + I’d like to have a family tree. + But Oxford said, ‘Let’s have some fun, + The door is open, let us run.’ + + So to the woods we gayly went + And there we had a lively race, + And such a joyous hour we spent + Chasing each other round the place. + ‘If you must have a family tree, + I’ll find one in the woods,’ said he. + +Sally was sent up a tree by Spot more than once, and even Oxford had +to fly from him several times, for to stay indoors in the lovely +summer weather was altogether impossible. There came to be a certain +excitement in escaping from their enemy which gave a dash of spice to +their life. And there was one day they would never forget when Spot met +the two of them in the Wild Wood. Oxford had promised to defend Sally, +but all the same, she thought it wiser to scamper up the nearest tree, +for it might happen that her brave brother would get the worst of the +fight. Oxford looked about him to see where Sally was and, finding she +was safe, he thought it better to join her and not to fight Spot, for +Sally would be happier if he were in the tree, too. So the pair sat +there looking down with scorn on their enemy. + +‘Who are you, anyway?’ Oxford asked. ‘You low creature not able to +climb like us!’ + +‘I come of a very fine stock. My mistress looked up my pedigree before +she bought me. It is written on paper.’ + +‘I thought you seemed like a thing that had been bought with money,’ +said Oxford. ‘My sister and I are free, not slaves. No money could buy +us. We could leave our home to-morrow if we liked.’ + +‘Perhaps you could to-morrow,’ Spot called back. ‘But you don’t seem to +be able to leave now. Not while I am at the foot of this tree.’ + +Now, only a few days before, Oxford had been scorning musty records, +but to Sally’s surprise he said: ‘If my sister and I chose to take +the trouble, we could have a family tree with an ancestry that would +absolutely astonish you, Spot. We go back to a cat who was named +William the Conqueror, because he always knocked his enemy flat. He +was the first Furbush--I mean we can trace back no farther; of course, +there were others back of him.’ + +‘Well,’ said Spot, ‘I am sure my ancestors were all so great that every +one was a conqueror, and as for my master, he was one of the first +settlers--his ancestors were, I mean.’ + +‘That is nothing,’ said Oxford. ‘Miss Winifred is descended from one of +the kings of France.’ + +‘Indeed!’ said Spot. ‘One wouldn’t think it to look at her.’ + +‘Not that I care a great deal about such things myself,’ said Oxford. + +‘I shouldn’t suppose you would,’ said Spot, ‘for I have heard that your +mother’s mother was just a little waif without home or family.’ + +This was too much for Oxford. He started to scramble down the tree, and +Sally was afraid that Spot would fly at him and perhaps kill him. + +‘Oxford,’ she said, ‘is that a bird’s nest on that upper bough?’ + +Oxford paused in his descent to look up. + +‘I don’t see anything. Where is it?’ + +‘I saw something very like a bird’s nest,’ she said. + +Oxford forgot all about his grandmother in his interest in the nest, +which might be full of young birds. + +‘Dogs are very superior to cats,’ Spot was saying. ‘Every one says so. +It is a well-known fact.’ + +‘Who says so?’ Oxford asked. + +‘My master and my mistress, and all the dogs I know.’ + +‘The people who make their home with us greatly prefer cats, and every +cat I have ever met says cats are much brighter than dogs,’ said Oxford. + +‘Prove it,’ Spot said with a loud bark. + +‘Can you climb a tree?’ Sally asked. + +‘I am so superior that I do not have to climb trees,’ said Spot. + +‘Can you catch a mouse?’ Oxford inquired. + +‘I don’t care about mice. I can be a true companion for man. Men don’t +climb trees, at least not as a rule, and they can’t catch mice. And +dogs are unselfish. I have heard of many a dog losing his life to save +his master, or dying of grief because his master has died.’ + +Oxford and Sally were considerably impressed. For once Oxford was at a +loss as to what to reply, but Sally was thinking things out. + +‘I would do a great deal for Miss Harvey,’ she said. ‘Maybe some day +I’ll have a chance to save her life, but what good does it ever do to +die of grief if one loses a friend? It seems to me wiser just to be a +good friend to all the friends one has left than to die of grief.’ + +Sally was astonished at her own words, but she had learned this from +Oxford. And just then who should come along the avenue that led to the +two houses but Mrs. Conant with her husband in their automobile. + +‘Spotty, what are you doing here? I didn’t mean you to get out until we +came back,’ said Mrs. Conant. ‘John, you had better get out and take +Spot back with you, and I’ll go on to the house. Spot has treed two +cats.’ + +As Spot walked off unwillingly with his master, he flung back these +words, ‘I’ll ask Mrs. Conant my exact pedigree and I’ll tell it to you +the next time we meet.’ + +‘We don’t have to take that trouble,’ Oxford retorted; ‘our family tree +is complete in our heads, beginning with William the Conqueror and +coming down to Martha Furbush-Tailby, our great-great-grandmother, and +then to William Furbush-Tailby, the poet, and then to his daughter, who +married our grandfather Oxford Forepaw Gray; his son was my father, +Oxford Gray, and I am Oxford Gray, Junior.’ + +‘I know who you are, you are a no-account bragging cat,’ said Spot, as +he vanished into the house. + + + + +[Illustration] + +CHAPTER XVI + +THE TRAVELING CAT + + +One day Sally looked out of the screen door and she saw a new cat +looking in at the window. He had a glossy coat of long black fur, and +a white shirt-front and four white paws. At least they once had been +white, but they were dirt-color from much traveling. Sally looked at +the cat and the cat looked at Sally. + +He asked Sally if he could get a meal at the house. Sally was about +to say she would speak to Elvira, for she could always attract her +attention by mewing or clawing her gown, when Oxford came to the screen +door. + +‘You can’t. This is my house. Clear out, and don’t show your black coat +around here again!’ + +The black cat was very much offended. ‘I am an important person,’ he +hissed back. ‘I’m a great traveler. I’ve come all the way from Malden, +and I’ve been at the wharves in Boston and taken one or two sea +voyages.’ + +‘You’d better take a few more,’ said Oxford. ‘You are not wanted here.’ + +And yet he was considerably impressed. Sally liked the appearance of +the stranger, and yet she was a little afraid of him. + +‘My name is Captain Ebony Black,’ said the traveling cat. ‘I’m called +Eben by my friends. I’d like to fight you some day when we meet +out-of-doors,’ he added as he looked at Oxford. + +‘Just what I should like,’ said Oxford. ‘I always fight all the cats +who come into my grounds.’ + +‘Do you own the whole place?’ the traveling cat asked. ‘I thought this +was where Peter lived.’ + +‘He thinks he lives here,’ Oxford snarled, ‘but the place belongs to +me.’ + +‘And to me, too,’ put in Sally. + +‘I let her live here,’ Oxford said, ‘because she is my sister.’ + +Elvira, who was washing dishes, turned to see what was happening, for +although she could not understand their language, she could tell that +some sort of a row was going on. The cats were looking at each other +fiercely, one on one side of the screen and one on the other. + +‘Come, Oxford, be a good cat,’ she said; ‘here is some supper for you.’ + +Supper, indeed! When one was longing to fight an enemy! He made a few +more angry remarks to the visitor, and ended by calling him ‘Blackie,’ +which was hard for Captain Ebony Black to bear, for he came of an old +family. + +‘Who are you, anyway?’ he growled. + +‘My great-grandfather was a Furbush,’ said Oxford, ‘and he was +descended from a Furbush, who was called “William the Conqueror.”’ + +‘I am descended from the first Ebony Black who came to this country. +There’s been an Ebony Black in each generation.’ + +Sally was greatly impressed, for ancestors meant so much to her. + +‘Come and eat your supper like a good cat,’ said Elvira, and then, +thinking that the stranger might be hungry, she took a plate of canned +salmon and bread out to the back porch. + +‘Elvira is feeding our enemy,’ said Oxford. + +He seemed a fine-looking pussy to Sally, but she said nothing. + +‘The way in which all the cats in the neighborhood come into my place +is outrageous!’ said Oxford, as he began to eat his fish. + +‘After all,’ Sally reminded him, ‘the place is Miss Winifred’s and +Elvira’s, and if they don’t mind----’ + +‘I’ve explained to you a great many times, Sally, that the true owner +of a place is the one who uses it the most, and so I say the back yard +and the Wild Wood are mine.’ + +‘Then the parlor is certainly mine,’ said Sally, ‘for I am there much +more than Miss Winifred.’ + +‘You can call the parlor yours, or can own the house if you like, but +the land is mine.’ + +The traveling cat thoroughly enjoyed his meal. He was shy with +strangers and had no idea of coming into the house, but he had taken a +liking to Sally’s modest appearance. She looked as if she might be an +old-fashioned cat, with whom one could have a pleasant talk if Oxford +was not around. So he hung about the place, occasionally coming for a +meal on the back porch. And one day he met Sally in the Wild Wood and +they had a friendly chat, for Oxford was not there. + +‘I don’t mean any harm,’ said the traveling cat, ‘and I don’t think +your brother need be so rude.’ + +‘He’s the kindest brother,’ Sally said, ‘but he had such a hard time +winning his way in the world when he was young that, when he did at +last find a home for himself and me, he wants to hold on to it.’ + +‘I don’t care about a home for long at a time,’ said the traveling cat. +‘I like to take a voyage every now and then in a ship. It doesn’t cost +anything, for I just walk on board, and I don’t have to bother about a +passport, and I can always make myself useful by hunting rats and mice.’ + +‘It must be exciting to travel,’ Sally said. ‘But I am so home-loving I +like to stay just where I’ve lived for so long.’ + +She told Oxford some of the tales of his travels that Ebony Black had +told her. Oxford said the fellow was too fond of bragging, but the +dazzling visions of distant spots began to have their effect. + +‘Why don’t you drive him off the place, Sally?’ he asked. ‘I will if I +ever find him here.’ + +‘I suppose he has as much a right to be here as Peter,’ said Sally. +‘There’s room for everybody, Elvira said so.’ + +‘Oh, Elvira! She would have all the stray cats and dogs in town here if +she had her way. That fellow thinks Ebony Black is a name to be proud +of,’ Oxford went on. ‘I never heard of the family in my life.’ + +Sally was sorry she had spoken of Ebony Black, but she had been so +impressed by his tales that she wanted to share them with Oxford. + +‘The way Elvira treats that fellow to canned salmon is too much!’ said +Oxford. + +‘But she isn’t taking anything from us, for we don’t like canned +salmon,’ said Sally. + +‘She’ll spend all her money if she doesn’t look out,’ said Oxford, ‘and +then she can’t get haddock for us.’ + +‘I am sure Elvira has lots of money,’ said Sally. + +‘Well, anyway, I don’t propose to have her feeding every cat in town,’ +said Oxford. + +‘Captain Ebony Black belongs in Malden,’ said Sally. ‘That is, when he +isn’t traveling. He’ll be leaving soon.’ + +‘He’ll be leaving this very day if I run across him,’ said Oxford. + +[Illustration] + + + + +[Illustration] + +CHAPTER XVII + +OXFORD GOES ON A JOURNEY + + +Now that the autumn had come, Oxford was seized with a desire to +travel. He had been considerably impressed by the tales the traveling +cat had told Sally, although he had not let her see this. And then +there was Peter. He was but a poor creature, to be sure, but the tales +he told of the free life in the open appealed to Oxford. + +‘I am going on a journey,’ he said to Sally one morning. + +‘Oh, Oxford, aren’t you happy here with me? What more do you want?’ + +‘I am tired of this back yard and of the Wild Wood. It all seems too +cramped to me. I want some good hunting, such as that tiresome, +no-account Peter has had.’ + +[Illustration] + +‘What could be better than the hunting is here?’ Sally asked. ‘Haven’t +you caught your ninth mouse this season? And you got a robin the other +day.’ + +‘Yes, and there was an awful row about it. I never saw Elvira in such a +state.’ + +‘I don’t quite see why,’ said Sally. ‘Elvira eats turkeys and chickens. +Why can’t we eat robins?’ + +‘That is a different matter. They have their own laws.’ + +‘Do explain it to me,’ said Sally. + +‘You could never understand it,’ said her brother. + +Sally suspected that he could not understand it either, but being wise +beyond her years, for it was years now, she did not say so. + +Sally did not ask Oxford to take her with him. She liked home life +best, and she was beginning to have a few friends. It was pleasant +to be a favorite in a modest way, if not a belle, and she liked the +serenades they gave her on moonlight nights. And above all, she loved +Miss Harvey, and she knew Miss Harvey would not care to take a journey +with Oxford and herself. + +So Sally bade Oxford good-bye, and said she hoped he would have a +pleasant journey and come back the next day. + +‘I may be gone two nights,’ he said. ‘Don’t worry unless I am gone +three.’ + +‘I am sorry to have you go,’ said Sally. + +‘I am sorry to leave you, Sally, but it is too much to be tied to a +woman’s apron string, and there are three of them in this house, all +wearing aprons.’ + +‘I suppose you know best,’ said Sally, ‘but when I think of our early +days and of how we had to scratch around for food and a place to sleep +in, I am contented with my lot.’ + +‘I am glad you are, Sally, but I want to visit foreign parts. Perhaps I +can get as far as Malden.’ + +‘Oh, do be careful! Don’t get on a boat, whatever you do!’ + +Oxford promised to be cautious, for in the main he was a home-loving +cat. He merely wanted to see the world in a quiet and safe way without +running any great risks. + +‘Remember there is fine hunting here,’ Sally said again. + +‘Yes, but, as I said before, these women make such a fuss. They force +a fellow into going into the big world for hunting. You’d think, after +catching nine mice, no one would grudge me a robin or two and she with +her chicken dinners!’ + +Sally looked very down-hearted when the actual parting came. + +‘You must buck up, Sally,’ he said, for he had learned this phrase from +the traveling cat. It seemed to mean more than ‘brace up.’ Sally was a +grown cat now, and a grown cat certainly ought to buck up. + +Sally missed Oxford, but there was a certain peace about the place. She +could eat the whole of her dinner without his taking part of it, and +she could see her friends freely without having them driven off the +place by Oxford. She missed him, of course; still, there was a certain +peace. + +No one discovered his absence until bedtime, for he had often been late +before. + +‘Where is Oxford?’ Miss Harvey asked Elvira. + +‘Oxford! I don’t know,’ said Elvira, as she took off her hat and coat. +‘Why should I know where Oxford is? I didn’t take him to Boston with +me.’ + +‘I thought you might have some idea where he was,’ said Miss Harvey. +‘He never comes in for me.’ + +They went through the garden and the Wild Wood calling, ‘Oxford, +Oxford, Oxford Gray, Junior.’ + +‘Sometimes he’ll come in for the Junior,’ said Elvira, but there was no +scampering of small feet and no furry face to be seen. + +‘Cats certainly are the limit,’ said Elvira. ‘You get fond of one, and +the first thing you know he’s off like a shot.’ + +‘Sally looks very wise,’ said Miss Harvey, as they went back into the +house. ‘I dare say she knows just where Oxford is.’ + +‘I wish I did,’ Sally said, but no one heard her. ‘I fear he is in some +miserable place, and hungry and cold.’ For it had begun to rain. Sally +could hear the raindrops pattering down the window-pane. + +‘This is a good little cat,’ and Elvira stroked Sally. ‘She never gives +us any trouble.’ + +‘She is a perfect lady, the sweetest little thing,’ said Miss Harvey, +as Sally climbed into her lap. + +Sally put her two paws around Miss Harvey’s neck. + +It was not until after the third night that Sally began to worry, for +Oxford had told her not to worry until after that. After the third +night, she began to miss him very much, indeed. There had been a +certain peace in his absence at first, but it seemed too peaceful now. +Moreover, she had had much pleasant conversation with Captain Ebony +Black, who had seen the world. He was a good-looking cat with his +long-haired, glossy, black coat and white shirt-front. A black cat was +an interesting variety in her life, and, although she knew that the +tigers were of a nobler race, it made a pleasant change to see some one +so different. Moreover, the black cat had said kind things to Sally, as +kind things as Miss Harvey had said. But he had gone now, and so she +had more time to worry about her brother. + +‘I do hope he will realize there is no place like home before it is too +late and something awful happens to him,’ said Sally, and she softly +repeated the familiar words to herself: ‘“Mid pleasures and palaces, +though I may roam; be it ever so humble, there’s no place like Home.”’ + +She hoped he would think of his basket and his little sister, and of +kind Elvira who always warmed his milk, and of the haddock that she +served for him. Nothing seemed the same without Oxford. + +When five days had gone by and still he did not come, gloom descended +upon the household. + +‘I knew something would happen to him,’ said Miss Winifred. ‘That is +why I did not want another cat. Something always happens once I get +attached to one.’ + +‘He may turn up yet,’ said Miss Harvey. + +‘He may turn up yet’--that sounded very hopeless. Had it come to that? + +‘I wish I’d never let him go on the journey,’ said Sally, ‘and yet how +could I have helped it? His mind was made up. I know he won’t come +back. He told me not to worry until after three days, and that meant +that, if he did not come back then, something would have happened.’ + +The three women to whose apron strings Oxford had been tied, had been +around to the neighbors asking if any one had seen a tiger cat with +white paws and a white breast. As there were several cats of this sort +in the neighborhood, many people thought they had seen him, but the cat +never proved to be Oxford himself. + +‘Black Sam, Sam Furbush-Tailby, I mean, was once gone ten days,’ said +Elvira. ‘Oxford will probably come back.’ + +‘Several of your pets have never come back,’ said Miss Winifred. + +‘I am going over to Handerson Court,’ said Elvira. ‘Maybe some one +there will have seen him.’ + +As Elvira went along the strip of land that led to Handerson Court, +she heard a faint mew. It seemed a cry of distress, and it sounded to +her like Oxford’s voice. She hurried over the grass and went through +the gap in the fence. Presently she saw a thin tiger cat coming toward +her with his head firmly encased in a fish can that some one must have +carelessly thrown away without flattening it. + +‘Oh, poor pussy, whoever you are, you are in an awful fix,’ said Elvira. + +As the cat came nearer, she could hardly believe it was Oxford, he +looked so thin, but she thought she recognized the markings on his +tail. Another minute and there was no doubt at all, for he began to mew +piteously again, and it was Oxford’s voice. The proud Oxford, who felt +affection, but seldom showed it, was delighted to recognize the voice +of a friend. + +Elvira picked him up and carried the frightened, struggling cat to the +house. + +‘Poor dear, where have you been?’ she asked him. ‘You must have been +shut in somewhere, and when they found you and let you out, you must +have been so hungry that you smelled the fish and thought you could get +some of it.’ + +She put Oxford down in the kitchen. Sally was frightened at first at +the sight of the can with no head to be seen, but when she found it was +really Oxford, she ran up to him. Poor Oxford! Suppose they could not +get his head out of the can. But Elvira and Miss Harvey worked away at +him, and presently Oxford’s head emerged, but his beautiful fur was all +over rust. Elvira stamped on the can to flatten it out. + +‘No cat will ever be caught in that can again,’ she said. + +Sally flew to wash Oxford, and Miss Harvey and Elvira began to scrub +him, while Miss Winifred stood in the doorway and said, ‘Poor cat, do +you suppose he will ever get over it?’ + +‘I’m all right,’ Oxford said, but only Sally understood. + +‘Where were you?’ Sally asked. ‘Why didn’t you come home before? Did +you have good hunting?’ + +‘I have been in prison, Sally,’ said Oxford. ‘I was accidentally shut +up in a building without food, so when I came out, I was very hungry.’ + +‘Did you think of home and your sister?’ Sally ventured to ask. + +‘Yes, Sally.’ Oxford was never one to show much affection. ‘Yes,’ +he said, ‘I thought of home, and of the hunting in the Wild Wood. I +thought, too, of Blackie; I am glad to see he is not about.’ + +‘Captain Ebony Black has had to go on another journey,’ said Sally. + +‘I am glad of that; and Peter, where is he?’ + +‘Peter was around last night, I think. It is getting cold. I think he +slept in the cellar last night.’ + +Oxford was hungrily eating some haddock at the time. How good it tasted! + +‘When I have got back to my full weight,’ said he, ‘I hope to show +Peter once for all that this is not his home.’ + +‘I am glad it is your home, Oxford,’ said Sally. ‘Aren’t you glad to +get back?’ + +Oxford was in truth very glad, indeed, but he did not like to show his +feelings. + +‘A fellow might do worse,’ he said. + +[Illustration] + + + + +[Illustration] + +CHAPTER XVIII + +SALLY HAS HER WISH + + +One morning some weeks later, Elvira had the surprise of her life. She +came down into the kitchen and looked around for the two cats. Oxford +was stretched out on his woolen blanket under the table, but Sally +was nowhere to be seen. Elvira remembered that she had left the lower +drawer of the kitchen dresser open thinking that Sally might like to +sleep there for a change, so she went over and looked in. For a moment +she was startled and thought she must have seen wrong and that Sally +had caught two mice. But although the furry objects were the smallest +kittens she had ever seen and hardly larger than mice, there was no +mistaking their fur coats. One was black with four very tiny white +paws and a white breast, and the other was white with a tiger tail and +a tiger blanket on its back. + +‘Miss Harvey,’ Elvira called, ‘did you ever see anything so sweet?’ + +Sally’s whole expression had changed. Instead of having a sad little +face, she looked proud and happy. It seemed as if she were saying: ‘See +what I have got for wishing for it? I have had to wish for a very long +time, but at last I have got just what I wanted, twins, a brother and +a sister, just like Oxford and myself, and the darlings shall have a +happier kittenhood than we had. And she said to herself, + + If I cannot have a mother, a mother I will be + With some darling, furry children of my own, + The furriest, purriest kittens, the most harum-scarum kittens, + The liveliest, gayest kittens ever known. + +It seemed this time as if Miss Harvey understood everything she said, +for she remarked, ‘Dear Sally has got her wish at last; see how +blissfully happy she looks, Elvira!’ + +They decided it would be wiser not to mention the kittens to Miss +Winifred for a few days, as she had a friend staying with her who was +taking all of her thoughts at present. So the kittens were almost a +week old before Miss Winifred knew about them. + +One morning Elvira said, ‘Sally has two little kittens.’ + +‘Kittens!’ Miss Winifred said in astonishment. ‘I am very sorry to hear +it.’ + +‘Sorry to hear it,’ said Elvira, ‘and you think you are fond of cats.’ + +‘Four seem too many to have in one house, and they will grow into cats, +but we can keep them for a time and then send them to the Ellen Gifford +Home, or else find good homes for them.’ + +‘Would you like to see them?’ Elvira asked. + +Miss Winifred went into the kitchen, and Elvira put one of the tiny +creatures into her hand and then the other. No one with a heart for +kittens could help being touched by the sight of these furry creatures +and the anxious expression of their mother’s face as she watched Miss +Winifred, for she was not sure of her. + +[Illustration] + +‘Please don’t drop them,’ she pleaded in her own language. ‘Please +don’t even think about homes for them later on. This is a good home, +and I will be a good mother. I do so want their kittenhood to be happy +and not sad like mine.’ + +Miss Winifred put the kittens down very gently. + +‘At any rate, they can’t leave their mother for some weeks,’ she said. + +It was not long before these tiny objects were scampering about the +kitchen floor, getting in front of Elvira’s feet just as their mother +and their uncle had done, for they found a way of getting out of the +drawer of the dresser. They made a stepladder of their mother, and, +climbing on her back, gave a flying leap to the floor and then chased +each other about. Patty, the little tiger kitten, was more lively than +her brother Eben, and she would turn a somersault as she reached him +and then they would skip about in high glee, and wrestle together. +There had never been such gay kittens in Miss Winifred’s house. + +‘It is as good as a tonic having them around,’ said Miss Winifred, one +morning as she visited the kitchen. + +‘Certainly they are like a tonic to their mother,’ said Miss Harvey. ‘I +never saw any one more changed.’ + +Oxford was not at all interested in his niece and nephew, so he spent +more of his time than usual away from home. It was the gentle Peter who +was all ready to be friendly, and when the two kittens went dancing up +to him, he was pleased. But Sally, who feared he would do them harm, +raised her powerful voice to call them to her, and then gave Peter the +thrashing that Oxford had meant to give him. She seemed possessed by +fury as she flew at him and put her claws in his fur. + +‘Look at your perfect lady now,’ said Elvira to Miss Harvey. + +‘She is a good mother. She is only afraid he will hurt her children,’ +said Miss Harvey. + +Sometimes in the days that followed, Sally wished that her desires +had not been granted so completely. She loved having her kittens and +she was glad they were having a happier kittenhood than her own, that +was so sombre and sad. But why had she ever asked for ‘harum-scarum’ +kittens, or the ‘liveliest, gayest kittens ever known’? Surely it would +have been enough to wish for ‘Kittens’! Sally was not sure that it was +ever wise to wish too hard for anything, and yet she liked to watch her +children playing so fearlessly, for kind Elvira and dear Miss Harvey +let them frisk about the kitchen as they pleased. One day Eben got into +one of Elvira’s rubbers that were in the entry. He peered out from this +pleasant spot as if to say, ‘See the nice little house I have found, +it just fits me.’ Baskets and boxes they appropriated for their own, +and on cold nights, after the kitchen fire was out, Sally joined them +and they slept warm and comfortable in a pasteboard box just the right +size for three. + +[Illustration] + +When they ran up Elvira’s back and pulled out her hairpins, or landed +on the clock shelf in the kitchen in search of their catnip mice and +knocked down a few trifles, Sally said, ‘Children, children, why can’t +you be quiet and well-behaved, as your uncle and I were!’ + +‘But, mother, you once told us you knocked a candlestick off the study +mantelpiece,’ Patty reminded her. + +‘That is true,’ said their mother, who was a very fair cat. + +‘You said you climbed up Elvira,’ said Eben; ‘that is what put the idea +into our heads.’ + +‘I never did it but once or twice, not every day. I was a much quieter +kitten.’ + +‘Because you were half-starved,’ said Patty. ‘Mother, just be a kitten +with us. Be young with your children.’ + + + + +[Illustration] + +CHAPTER XIX + +SALLY IS YOUNG WITH HER CHILDREN + + +Before Sally had any kittens she used to wonder at the shiftless way in +which the wild tortoise-shell cat who sometimes came about the place +dealt with her kittens. Sally knew she would not have the slightest +trouble in making her children mind, if she were so fortunate as to +have any. But it is one thing to make imaginary children mind and quite +another to deal with real ones. + +She would say in her powerful voice, ‘Come, Patty, come, Eben, be +quiet. Come to me. Let Elvira’s sweater alone,’ and the pair would +gayly prance about the room with the sweater between them, Eben firmly +grasping a sleeve, and Patty the hem. + +‘Children, did you hear what I said?’ she would add. + +‘Yes, mother,’ said the gay pair, and they went on dancing about the +room. Then Sally would raise her voice again, and finally Elvira would +stamp her foot and say, ‘Sally, be quiet!’ which was very unfair of +Elvira, Sally thought, when she was doing her best to make the kittens +mind. + +‘I can’t understand why you are not better behaved,’ she said to them. + +‘Mother, dear, didn’t you want us to have a lively, happy kittenhood, +different from yours?’ Patty asked, as she dropped the sweater and put +a paw around her mother’s neck. + +Then Patty leaped upon the table and gave a flying jump into the sink, +where Elvira had put some water in a pan. Eben quickly followed her. + +‘We are waiting for Miss Winifred to come out,’ said Patty. ‘We like +her lap for naps, it is so woolly and she’s so kind.’ + +‘Kind!’ said Sally. ‘She thought of sending you to the Ellen Gifford +Home. Perhaps she will yet.’ + +‘I am sure she hasn’t any idea of it, mother,’ said Patty. ‘Once Miss +Winifred gets fond of you, she’s all right. She’s a dear. Her lap is a +lot woollier than Elvira’s.’ + +Presently Miss Winifred came into the kitchen, moving slowly in her +near-sighted way, so as not to step on a kitten. Patty darted past her +as if to dare her to step on her tail. Miss Winifred seated herself in +the big rocking-chair, ready to discuss the meals. Presently Patty ran +up her skirt and settled down in her lap. Eben then appeared, getting +up very slowly with more than one fall, but arriving at last. He always +liked everything Patty had, so he moved her to the other side of Miss +Winifred’s lap and slipped into her place. + +Sally came over and sat on the arm of Miss Winifred’s chair, for she +still felt a little uneasy about the Ellen Gifford Home. + +‘These kittens are perfectly fascinating,’ said Miss Winifred. + +‘Did you hear that, mother?’ said Eben. + +‘She knows how to make pretty speeches,’ said Sally. + +‘I like pretty speeches,’ said Eben. ‘I wish you’d make a few, mother.’ + +‘If you’ll come into the basket to take your nap, I’ll sing the song +that your great-great-grandmother composed. The Martha Furbush for whom +you are named, Patty.’ + +Out of curiosity to hear the song, the kittens scrambled down from Miss +Winifred’s lap and joined their mother in the basket. She gently purred: + + Purr, darlings, purr, + While mother is washing your fur. + In all the great nation + There’s no occupation + That’s half so sweet to her. + Purr, darlings, purr. + +Patty grew restless while the song was going on, and she skipped out of +the clothes-basket. + +‘My darling, don’t you think it a sweet song?’ + +‘I think it is a lot more interesting hearing Elvira reading the paper +aloud to Miss Winifred, than to listen to you singing,’ said Patty. + +‘When you have children of your own, Patty, you will appreciate how +every mother feels.’ + +‘I just love to hear about the cat that came all forlorn and full of +burrs to the lady who took him in and made a home for him,’ Patty went +on. ‘I’d love to get out and be stuck full of burrs, mother.’ + +‘There was a verse in the Cradle Song about hissing,’ Sally said. + +‘Oh, try to remember it, mother,’ they begged. + +‘I’m sorry, but I’ve forgotten it.’ + +As the kittens grew older, Sally found it harder and harder to make +them mind. One day she found her dear little Patty in a drawer in the +kitchen, one that she had never got into before. Sally was terribly +worried for fear some thoughtless person would shut the drawer with her +child in it. She called and called to Patty to come out. She called +until Elvira stamped her foot and said, ‘Be quiet, Sally.’ + +Then Sally stopped to think things out. + +‘I see that the door into the passageway is open, Patty,’ she said. +‘Wouldn’t you like to come with me into the other part of the house?’ + +It had worked. Patty sprang out of the drawer and gayly followed her +mother, for she had longed to go into the parlor again ever since the +day that she and Eben had been taken there to show to some admiring +ladies who were having afternoon tea with Miss Winifred. + +Patty and her mother went up a flight of stairs to the sewing-room +door, which was open. There was no door open into the other part of the +house. + +‘Oh, is that all you’ve got to show me! I’ve seen this old room +before,’ said Patty. + +‘You’ve seen it before? When?’ + +‘Uncle Peter showed it to us one day when you were in the parlor with +Miss Harvey.’ + +‘Uncle Peter! That tramp cat is no relation of yours. It is Oxford who +is your uncle.’ + +‘Uncle Peter said he wasn’t any relation,’ said Patty, ‘but we asked +if we might call him that, for we like him a lot better. Uncle Oxford +tries to make us mind, and it isn’t his business. He isn’t our mother.’ + +‘I don’t want you playing around with Peter.’ + +‘But, mother, he tells us such lots of exciting stories. He’s going to +take Eben hunting as soon as we are big enough to be let out.’ + +Patty was halfway down the stairs as she spoke. Her mother followed her +anxiously. What should she do to keep her child out of that drawer. To +her intense relief, she saw that Elvira had closed it. + +It was a very cold day, and Eben was standing absorbed in the +passageway to the outside door, watching Peter, who was fighting +another cat. + +‘Eben,’ she called in her shrill voice, ‘come in at once, you will take +cold.’ + +‘For pity sake, keep quiet, Sally,’ said Elvira, stamping her foot. +Eben did not move. + +Then Patty went and touched her brother with her paw and tried to get +him in out of the cold. Cat fights had no interest for her. He shook +her off and remained rooted to the spot. + +‘Oh, children, children,’ said Sally in despair. She went over to Miss +Harvey, who had come in and was sitting by the table. She had been too +busy with her kittens to pay any attention to Miss Harvey of late. Now +she put her paws around her neck and her face up to be kissed. + +‘Poor, dear Sally,’ said Miss Harvey, ‘it is quite a job to be a +mother.’ + +‘What’s the use of trying to make us mind, mother? It’s much more fun +to do the things yourself.’ As he spoke, Eben began to chase after his +sister’s tail, Patty chased after his, and finally Sally joined them, +and the three had a mad race around the kitchen floor. + +‘Isn’t it more amusing, mother, than to sing, “Purr, darlings, purr?”’ +said Eben, as the three paused for breath. + +‘We made a better song than that the other night,’ said Patty. + +‘You made a song?’ Sally was delighted. She was proud of her kittens. + +‘Eben made most of it, but I helped him,’ said Patty, and the two +kittens said together: + +[Illustration] + + ‘Skip, mother, skip with us, + Don’t hold us back and make a fuss, + You look so young you’re surely able + To jump with us upon the table, + Then give a leap into the sink, + Where you will find a cooling drink. + Skip, mother, skip with us, + Don’t hold us back and make a fuss.’ + +‘And you call that poetry,’ said their mother. ‘I can do better than +that.’ + +‘Some day I’ll make better poetry than that,’ said Eben. And a few +weeks later, when he was three months old, and Sally heard an evening +song that he had made, she felt that the wish of her heart was to be +granted at last, and that her little son was to be the companion she +had longed for. + + ‘I’m thankful for my happy days, + So full of work and pleasant plays, + When Patty’s tail and mine we chase, + And mother joins us in the race. + I’m thankful for my long black fur, + And mother says it pleases her. + And for my eyes that see so far, + And watch the moon and evening star. + I love both sunshine and the rain + That patters on the window-pane. + I love the people living here. + I think Elvira is a dear. + Miss Harvey is just to my mind, + And even Miss Winifred is kind. + I love the world, I think it’s great, + What kitten could want a better fate? + I’m glad my months are only three + With all of life ahead of me.’ + +‘It might be better,’ said Sally, who did not believe in too much +praise, ‘but it is a great improvement on “Skip, mother, skip with us.”’ + +Sally wondered if her son would be a famous poet, like his +great-great-grandfather, William Furbush-Tailby, when he was a +full-grown cat. She often wondered as to what the future of her +children would be. Patty was so extremely bright and enterprising that +she felt sure she would be able to look out for herself. And then, +too, Sally thought her a beauty, for she looked exactly as she would +have liked to look, with her round white face and beautiful eyes set +far apart, and her tiger blanket and the tiger cap that covered the +back of her head and came down over her forehead and looked as if +it were parted like hair. But Eben, although slower, was a kitten of +real distinction. She felt he might make his mark in the world. He +was so absorbed in cat fights, even at his tender age, that he might +be a great warrior, or he might become like his grandfather, a mighty +hunter, for he sat for five minutes at a time before a mouse-hole. + +Sally liked to keep them young as long as possible and she was glad +that it was to be a late spring, for now, at the beginning of March, +there was snow on the ground, and Elvira said to Miss Harvey, ‘It will +be some time before we can let the kittens out-of-doors.’ So at present +they were safe from the peril of meeting intruding cats or being chased +by that villain Spot. + +Meanwhile Sally raced around the kitchen with her children and +scampered up and down the stairs that led to the sewing-room as if she +were their age and not a sober cat. + +‘I am having my youth now,’ she said to Oxford, who was watching the +three with his slightly superior air, as he looked up from his last +mouthful of haddock. He was a little too lazy to join in the race, and +he preferred to take his exercise out-of-doors. + +‘Sally, you have learned to brace up,’ he said. + + This tale is ended, yet, not so, + The kittens’ tails, they grow and grow. + A tiger tail that’s tipped with white, + A black one, Sally’s chief delight. + When the Spring comes, with joyous purr, + In coats of black, and tiger fur, + They’ll hasten through the open door, + The earth’s great wonders to explore. + + +THE END + + + + +TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES: + + + Italicized text is surrounded by underscores: _italics_. + + Perceived typographical errors have been corrected. + + Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized. + + Archaic or variant spelling has been retained. + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 76985 *** |