CONTENTS.

How It Happened.

One evening when a company of children and older people were looking at funny cat-pictures and telling cat-stories, a little ten-year-old girl asked: “Why can there not be a Cats’ Arabian Nights Story Book?”

“There would have to be a Cat King, or Emperor, or Sultan,” said her next older sister.

“And a Cat Queen, or Empress, or Sultaness,” said their cousin Joe, the sailor.

“And she would have to go on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, telling stories in order to save her own life,” said their cousin Lucia.

“I propose,” said uncle Fred, “that cousin Lucia put together a Cats’ Arabian Nights for little children, and have it ready to read to our little children when they all shall come next summer with their fathers and mothers.”

“Oh yes! Yes! Do! Pray do! Won’t you do it? Say you will! Say you will!” cried many voices.

“I think it will be fun to do it,” said cousin Lucia, “if you allow me to put in some make believe and nonsense, if I want to.”

“Certainly!” was the cry. “Put in anything. Anything you please!”

Cousin Lucia said she was willing to try, and thus it happened that the summer-children and others got a story book beginning, as all story books should begin, with—once upon a time.

King Grimalkum and Pussyanita;OR,The Cats’ Arabian Nights.

ONCE upon a time the aged Tommobus, King of the Cats, went forth a hunting and returned with a wound which caused his death. So Tommobus died and Grimalkum the Powerful became King in his stead.

King Grimalkum was of course jet black all over without a single white hair, or he could not have been made king, and his eyes were of the true royal yellow.

The first act of King Grimalkum’s reign was one of cruelty. He sent forth an order declaring that black, maltese, and gray, were the only colors to be allowed for cats, and that all cats which were white or yellow, or which had more white or yellow hairs than dark ones should not be permitted to live. Judges were appointed to measure the spots.

This order caused great affright among the lighter cats. The wholly white and wholly yellow hid themselves or fled to distant places, and the partly white and partly yellow went in haste to have their dark spots measured by the judges.

Among those who came before the judges was Pussyanita, a beautiful creature just out of kittenhood. Her playfulness and sweet disposition made her beloved by all.

Alas! it was soon made known by the judges that the dark of Pussyanita measured many less hairs than her white ones. This caused great sorrow, and King Grimalkum was begged to spare her life.

“Spare her life! Not if she were twenty Pussyanitas!” cried the King; which was a foolish answer, since she could not have been twenty Pussyanitas, or even nineteen.

Now this sweet and gentle creature was so much beloved, that no one could be found willing to hurt a single hair of her. When King Grimalkum heard this he became furious with anger, and commanded that she be brought to him at once, saying that he himself would attend to the business, and make quick work of it. So the lovely Pussyanita was brought before the King.

Her loveliness did not soften his heart; on the contrary he was made more furious than ever by seeing that she sat licking her fur as quietly as if sitting in her own sunny garden spot.

“What are you doing that for, you silly thing?” he cried. “Don’t you know you have but a few moments to live?”

“Yes, your majesty,” replied the lovely Pussyanita, “but I cannot endure a speck of dirt, and with good reason, for in me you see a descendant, and great, great, great, great, great, twenty-seven times great grandchild of the unhappy and happy Pinky-white. Your majesty must have heard of Pinky-white.”

“Never,” said the king, sternly. “But why do you call her unhappy and happy? There is no sense in that.”

“She was not unhappy and happy at the same time,” said Pussyanita. “She was first unhappy and afterwards happy.”

“How was that?” asked the king. “And supposing youarethe great, great, great, great, great, twenty-seven times great granddaughter of Pinky-white, what has that to do with your being unable to endure a speck of dirt?”

Said the lovely Pussyanita, “It would give me pleasure, your majesty, to explain why my great, great, great, great, great, twenty-seven times great grandmother was first unhappy, and why she was afterwards happy, also supposing Iamthe great, great, great, great, great, twenty-seven times great granddaughter of Pinky-white, what that has to do with my being unable to endure a speck of dirt; it would give me pleasure, I say, to explain all this, but it would take a longer time than I have to live.”

“Time shall be granted you,” said the king, “for I am curious to know why your great, great, great, great, great, twenty-seven times great grandmother Pinky-white was unhappy and why she was happy, and to know why your being her great, great, great, great, great, twenty-seven times great granddaughter should be a reason why you are unable to endure a speck of dirt.”

“At your majesty’s request,” replied Pussyanita, “I will tell you the story of my great, great, great, great, great, twenty-seven times great grandmother Pinky-white, as she herself told it, when ordered to do so, at Lady Yellow-paw’s famous party.”

“Stop!” cried the king. “Why was your great, great, great, great, great, twenty-seven times great grandmother Pinky-white ordered to tell her story at Lady Yellow-paw’s famous party? Who was Lady Yellow-paw? Why was her party famous?”

“Please your majesty,” replied Pussyanita, “I shall be happy to explain to your majesty who was Lady Yellow-paw, and why her party was famous, and why my great, great, great, great, great, twenty-seven times great grandmother Pinky-white was ordered to tell her story at that party, but your majesty must perceive that to do all this will require much time.”

“Begin then!” cried the king. “Begin with your Lady Yellow-paw and her famous party, and then go on to your twenty-seven times great grandmother; and do not waste time waiting or waste words in the telling.”

The lovely Pussyanita bowed and began with Lady Yellow-paw and her famous party, and then went on to tell the story of Pinky-white as told by herself at that famous party.

The Story of Pinky-White.

“The first that I knew of myself, I found myself by the side of my mother, among some hay in a basket along with three other kittens of my own age and size. Two of our number were quickly stolen from us. It will thus be seen that I had scarcely begun to live before I began to be unhappy. As I grew older I became more and more unhappy, for the place was cold, the floor was hard, our mother cuffed us, and girl-Mary, who owned us, knew not the best way of stroking.

Girl-Jane and Girl-Mary.

“One day when girl-Mary sat by our basket, girl-Jane came down there bringing her own cat and kittens. Girl-Jane had called to see us many times, and I had been pleased with the looks of her face, and the sounds of her voice, and the touches of her fingers; and she knew the best way of stroking. “Girl-Jane was smaller than girl-Mary, but she knew more. Girl-Jane said she wanted girl-Mary to change kittens with her. She wanted me and Minnie because we were whiter than her kittens.

“‘No, Jane,’ said girl-Mary, ‘I can’t change, for you know mine are all named, and besides your cat would not like it. She knows what we are talking about. Don’t you see how anxious she looks?’

“It made me unhappy to hear this. I wanted to go with girl-Jane, away from the cold place, and the hard floor, and my cross mother and be stroked the best way. Minnie too wished to go. She cried when girl-Mary gave back the other kittens. As for me, I could only turn away and hide my sorrowful face.

“My next unhappiness was the unhappiness of being whipped with a rod. An old lady wished for a cat to catch her mice and thought she would take a kitten and teach it to behave well. I was carried to her home. I had here a warm place, and a carpet, and the old lady did not stroke at all, so that I was not made unhappy by bad stroking. But my unhappiness was great, on account of the rod. It was rod here and rod there; rod on the pantry shelf and rod on the chair-cushion; rod on the parlor sofa and rod on the best bed; rod at the milk pitcher, and rod at the custard pie.

Well Made for Catching.

“A greater unhappiness must now be told. For this greater unhappiness was the cause of another unhappiness even greater than this—oh, very much greater! It was the cause of a long and dreadful unhappiness in which I nearly starved to death. It was something which would make any and every cat unhappy. It was this. I could not catch well. Mice, birds, moles, bats, squirrels, rabbits, almost always got away from me. I think I must have been born short-clawed.

“In a corner of the garden was a chicken-coop. This chicken-coop was well made for catching. It would seem that all a cat need do was to lie quietly on top, looking over the edge, and when a chicken popped out, spring and catch it. Any other cat would have done all this. The next house cat did do all this. I did not do all this. I lay quietly on top of the chicken-coop. I looked over the edge, and when a chicken popped out I sprang. I did everything the next house cat didexceptto catch the chicken.

I Did My Best.

“I had the same luck in fishing. There was a stream at the bottom of our garden and at its edge were large mossy rocks on which a cat might stretch herself in the sun, or if the day were hot she might lie in their cool shade. Trees grew near by and any other cat would have often caught a bird among their branches. The next house cat did this. I did not do this. Any other cat than myself would have now and then caught a fish in the stream at the foot of the rocks. The next house cat did this. I did not do this. I often lay close to the water—as shown how to do by the next house cat, and watched the fishes as they glided past. When one rose to the top I did my best to catch it, but even did I have the luck to touch one, it was sure to slip out and away. I used to think sometimes that if fishes had not been made so slippery I could have held on, but then the next house cat held on to slippery fishes. I am almost sure I must have been born short-clawed.

Bold Little Thing!

“As for squirrels and rabbits, they seemed at last to be not a bit afraid of me, even when I had become a full-grown cat. One saucy squirrel used to tease me by coming very near and then darting out of my reach. This squirrel became very bold. He even popped in at the doors and windows. One day when I was asleep on the sofa by the library window, he ran as near me as the back of the sofa—bold little thing! and by the time I had turned over he was out of the window, and I soon got sight of his bushy tail whisking through the tall tree-tops, and of his little bright eyes looking down at me through the leaves. He would not have got away so easily from the next house cat. There can be no doubt but that I must have been born short-clawed.

“The next house cat caught mice. I did not. I might have caught some had not the mouse-holes been made so small. But then the next house cat had the same kind of mouse-holes I had.

The Next House Cat

“Sometimes I thought if I had been a Tabby I might have caught as well as the next house cat. But then I could not be a Tabby.

“One day—oh unhappy day! the next house cat’s mistress came to see my mistress, and they talked of cats. I lay outside under the open window and heard every word, and understood. Mistresses, as you very well know, dear Lady Yellow-paw—as all of you at this famous party very well know—mistresses have no idea how much their cats can understand.

“Said my mistress, ‘Pinky-white is the neatest cat that ever was seen. She will have no dirt on her fur. She licks off every speck. She keeps herself snow white. And I have taught her to behave well. I no longer keep a rod. But she catches no mice.’

“‘You feed her too well,’ said the next house cat’s mistress. ‘Send her to Miss Rhody and get you a mouser. Miss Rhody is out of a cat and is waiting to find a neat one. Miss Rhody has managed cats these forty years and knows how to do it. Miss Rhody never feeds a cat. If it won’t catch mice she drowns it.’

“‘I will send Pinky-white to Miss Rhody to-morrow,’ said my mistress.

“This frightened me. Oh what should I do? What could I do? In my agony of distress I ran round and round in a circle in the potato patch, tore up the squash vines, and at last I sprang over the high wall, and in that house and garden I was never seen more.

But Alas! Three Others Were Gnawing the Bone.

“Then began the terrible unhappiness of my life. No tongue can tell what I suffered. Hiding behind fences, under barns, in empty pig-styes, empty hen-houses; being driven from back doors, hooted at by boys, barked at by dogs, and hungry, hungry, hungry, oh so hungry!—for I could not catch well—and always dirty! Ah! none who have not felt it can know the unhappiness of a cat without a home!

“One night I thought surely I should taste a bit of meat. A black-and-white kitten kindly told me of a large bone she had seen in a yard, and we scampered to that yard. But alas! three others were already gnawing the bone and there was nothing on the bone, for a tommy cat had kept the others away till he had eaten off all the meat and then he sat seeing them gnaw the bare bone. I did not gnaw. I did not wish to gnaw bare bone.

“One day a dreadful thing happened to me. It was when I was hungrier than I had ever been before, though I had been very hungry. I was so hungry I thought I could not live, and I went into the fields to try to catch something. It was a silly thing for me to try to catch a rat when I was short-clawed.

“I did. A great rat went into a field and I thought, oh if I could only get that rat! Imusthave that rat! Imust!

“I put myself down flat and crept behind that rat. He went creeping through some wheat and corn and I crept behind, quicker than he, for I could creep quicker. He went up a large stalk to his nest. I sprang up and grabbed him, but alas! I could not take good hold and he got away and sprang at me and the mother rat sprang out at me and they bit me, and would have killed me, but I got away and ran with all my might, and lay down under some bushes, and pretty soon that same black and white kitten came and licked the blood off me and brought me a mole to eat, or I never should have stirred from that spot.

“As the weather grew colder I suffered more and more. I longed for a home.

“Often at evening I ran behind persons hoping to be invited to their houses, but they always drove me back.

“During all this time I was obliged to endure the distress of knowing that my fur was not perfectly clean.

“When winter came my unhappiness was greater than it had ever been before, though it had already been very great.

“But one day, oh joyful day! my unhappiness came to an end, oh joyful end! I will tell how this happened.

He Went Up a Large Stalk to His Nest.

The Kind Maiden.

“The ground was covered with snow, slosh and mud. I had been running hither and thither, under barns, in coal cellars, and in other places trying to catch something, but having had the misfortune, as I have already told your ladyship, the misfortune of being born short-clawed, I had caught nothing. Begrimed with dirt, hungry, cold, forlorn, I was on my way to my jumping spot. This was the corner of a wall near a back door. It was also near to some bushes and trees all snugly fenced in, and under these I had often hid myself and tried to clean my fur and watched for the back door to open. I called it my jumping spot because sometimes I jumped from that spot and got in at the back door and snatched a bit from the plate of the cat which belonged to the house. Sometimes a kind maiden had thrown me scraps from one of the windows.

“Now just as I was to jump from my jumping spot I saw this kind maiden coming down the steps. She had her pet kitten in her arms and was tending it with care. ‘Oh pet kitten! pet kitten!’ I mewed to it. ‘How little you know the unhappiness of a cat without a home!’ Mewing this, I hung my tail and was slinking out of sight when I heard these words.

“‘Puss! Puss! Pussy! Pussy! Puss!’ How I wished I could think they were spoken to me! ‘Pussy! Poor Pussy! Here Pussy!’ I turned my head, but kept moving. ‘Pussy! Pussy! Pussy! Puss! Poor Pussy! Pussy! Pussy! Here Pussy! Poor Pussy!’ I stopped.

“‘Pussy! Here Pussy! come Pussy!’

“Yes! they were—they were spoken to me! She was looking at me! ‘Good old Pussy! come here, good old Pussy!’

“She held out her hand. I dared not go. She went in and placed a saucer of milk on the kitchen hearth, called me and left the door open, and went to another room. I crept in to the hearth, and lapped, lapped, lapped, oh how I did lap! No tongue can tell the sweetness of that milk!

She Took Me Up.

“As soon as I had eaten the milk I examined the things in the room, then I rolled over and over on the door mat to get the coal dust off, then I sat on the hearth and licked myself clean. The cook came in and shook the broom at me and cried: ‘Scat! Scat!’ Just then the kind maiden showed her face at the door. ‘Here’s a strange cat!’ the cook said to her. ‘We don’t want another cat!’

“‘Why! how white and clean she has made herself,’ said the maiden. ‘She is a neat cat. I have often seen her cleaning herself out under the bushes. I mean to keep her. She is just the cat for poor Ellen.’

“I went and rubbed against her clothes, rubbed hard, and tried to purr loud enough to make her understand that I said in purr language, ‘I love you, love you. Don’t send me away!’

“Oh the happiness of a cat with a good home! I had now a good home. I was held in laps, stroked well, talked to, even kissed. I had warm milk, meat scraps, and plenty of fish. I was not expected to catch. I wonder why cats are almost always expected to catch.

“I went every day to see poor Ellen. I used to go up after breakfast and scratch the door and get myself let in. When she combed her hair I sat close to her looking-glass, and looked at her while she combed her hair, and when she sat down to rest I lay on the floor and waited, and when she put on her shoes I kept at her feet, and rubbed her feet, and then I rubbed against her a good deal and purred to be taken up, and she took me up. Poor Ellen could not walk much but she could hold me. She liked me because I kept myself so clean and white.

The Hen’s Lesson in Neatness.

“The maiden said she never before saw a cat which could not endure a speck of dirt. She said she believed I taught her other cats to be neat. This might not have been true, but it was certainly true that while I was with them the other cats were very careful to clean themselves after eating. One day she called the family to see us. ‘Look!’ she cried. ‘Look at my cat that cannot endure a speck of dirt! I do believe that rooster has brought his hen to make her take a lesson in neatness.’

“This might not have been true, either. He might have brought her to make her take a lesson in neatness, or he might have brought her for the scraps we often left.

“Speaking of hens, a chicken made something happen to me which does not often happen to a cat. Our hen hatched out a brood of chickens and while they were little she was carried off by a fox. All the chickens died except two, and one of these had a weak throat. When the fox carried off the hen he stepped on that little chicken’s neck and it had a weak throat ever after. One day when I was in a far corner of the garden I heard a curious noise like a choking, or a peeping, but more like a choking than a peeping. I watched, and presently that little chicken came out of the grass. I should have sprung upon it if I had not seen that it was in distress and was coming to me for help. It had got a bug stuck in its throat. It came close to me and I licked it, and purred to it and tried to cover it over with myself just as its own mother used to. Pretty soon it swallowed that bug.

“After this it often came to me to be licked and purred to when it had a bug or a worm stuck in its throat, and at last it brought the other chicken, and I tried to be a mother to them both, for my dear little kittens had all been sent away. The other chicken grew faster than the first one; it had a strong throat to swallow with. I took great care of them both and licked them clean, for I could not bear a speck of dirt on them any more than if they had been my kittens.

I Tried to Be a Mother to Them Both.

“Now when the maiden saw me doing this she told her brother that if I could live peaceably with chickens I could with birds, and that she meant to try me. She first fed me well then brought to me a tame bird. Its wings had been clipped so that it could not fly and it was very hungry. It was afraid of me and it hopped round crying its bird kind of cry. But I did not touch it and when it saw me licking the chicken it hopped near me to get some rice which both the chickens were eating. In a few days the bird and I were good friends. He let me lick him and he used to sit on my head and sing, and we all ate our meals together until the chickens died. The first one died of its weak throat and the other died of the bite of a cat. One day a girl brought her cat to see us. She kept her up high on her shoulders, away from us, but when that other chicken put its head out to pick up a bug, that cat jumped down quick and caught that chicken by the head, and it died afterwards.

The Happy Family.

“But before these died the maiden and her brother tamed some young guinea pigs and some young white mice, and made them grow up friends. They stayed in a pen close to ours until we all became acquainted with each other and then the slats between the pens were taken off, and the two pens were made into one and we all lived together. I must own that at first I did wish to catch a mouse just for the sake of catching one, and though born short-clawed I could no doubt have caught one in a pen, but the maiden thought I might have such a wish and pared my claws. I was very happy with my new friends. After I knew the little mice I had no wish to catch them. I played with them and let them run over my back. When one comes to know mice, one likes their company and finds them very agreeable and playful and lively.

“The maiden’s brother said they might as well have a Happy Family, and he trained some big birds and other birds and they came to live with us and we were a very Happy Family.

“When the maiden and her brother went away to live in another place they sold us to a showman to put in his show. The showman travels about the country showing his show. A few days ago the wagon we were in upset and our door came open. The birds flew away, the mice hid under a rock and the guinea pigs ran into the woods. I am on my way back home, and I shall stay in this place only long enough to attend your ladyship’s famous party.

“Said Lady Yellow-paw to my great, great, great, great, great, twenty-seven times great grandmother Pinky-white, when she had ended her story, said Lady Yellow-paw: ‘Pinky-white, you do not speak of having a dog in your Happy Family.’

I Used to Play With a Dog’s Tail!

“She had hardly said this before a tittering, chuckling, clicking noise was heard and out spoke a pert little spotted black-and-white kitten and said, ‘Te! he! he! I used to play with a dog’s tail! A black, peeked-nosed dog’s tail, and his name was Trippy; and he was good to me. He had a curly tail.’

“‘Silence!’ cried the spotted black-and-white kitten’s mother. ‘Don’t you know better than to speak up at a famous party—a little thing like you? Silence!’

“‘Trippy liked me after you went away,’ cried another kitten; a white one. ‘He liked me better than he liked you. He let me play with his ears, and sleep on his neck, and he cried for me when I was out of his sight. When somebody threw me in the water, Trippy took me out with his mouth.’

He Took Me Out.

“This kitten’s mother was not at the party, but its snappish old aunt, Black Velvet, was there and she gave it a smart box on the ear. ‘It is a pity,’ said she, ‘if at a famous party like this we older ones cannot be heard for the noise of these pert little minxes. I myself could tell a strange story; a story stranger far than even the one just heard from that very neat puss, Pinky-white, with her Happy and her Unhappy, and her Not a Speck of Dirt! Was she blown off a tree in a whirlwind? Answer me that; or did she go to sea in a baby’s crib? Answer me that.’

“Said Lady Yellow-paw to Black Velvet, ‘Let me hear your strange story, how you were blown off a tree in a whirlwind, and how you came to go to sea in a baby’s crib.’

“Here the cat that hadn’t common sense rushed round the ring and stood on her head and said, ‘I can tell the strangest story of all, for I can tell why I haven’t got common sense.’”

When the lovely Pussyanita had told thus far she stopped suddenly and said to King Grimalkum, “I beg your majesty’s pardon. Oh King Grimalkum, you only wished to hear the story of my great, great, great, great, great, twenty-seven times great grandmother Pinky-white, and I have told, besides this, of the spotted black-and-white kitten who played with the peeked-nosed little black dog’s tail, and of the white kitten he took out of the water, and have also spoken of Black Velvet who was blown off a tree in a whirlwind and afterwards went to sea in a baby’s crib, and of the cat who hadn’t common sense—I will say no more.”

“You shall say more,” said King Grimalkum, sternly. “I can never close my eyes to slumber until I know how it happened that Black Velvet was blown off a tree in a whirlwind and afterwards went to sea in a baby’s crib.

“A baby’s crib is a strange thing to go to sea in; why not in a boat? or in a tub? or even on a board? Why go to sea at all, when there is plenty of ground, and when cats hate water? And as for that other cat, why had she not common sense? She needed common sense. Every cat needs common sense.”

“I can tell your majesty in a few words why the cat that hadn’t common sense hadn’t common sense,” replied Pussyanita. “It was because she lost it. Do you ask how? I answer by a looking-glass and a clock.

“When quite young she looked in a looking-glass and saw herself there, and thought it was another cat staring at her, and got mad at that other cat, and flew at it, and broke the glass, and frightened herself so that she ran all over the house and when she came to the clock the clock door was open and she jumped in. The clock door got shut and she had long to stay there, and the noises in the clock almost made her crazy, and she never had common sense afterwards. This tells why the cat that hadn’t common sense hadn’t common sense,” continued Pussyanita; “but to tell all about Black Velvet, and how it happened that she was blown off a tree in a whirlwind, why she went to sea at all when there was plenty of ground and cats hate water, will take a longer time than I have to live.”

“Time shall be granted you,” cried King Grimalkum. “Go on! go on at once!”

The lovely Pussyanita then went on, and went on at once, to tell the Story of Black Velvet as told by herself at Lady Yellow-paw’s famous party.

The Story of Black Velvet.

“I was born in a barn. My brothers and sisters were born in the same place. There were four of us, all of the same age and size. As soon as we could run our mother took us all over the great barn-country. She did everything for our good. She showed us the holes and told us which were mouse-holes and which were rat-holes. She showed us how to spring and how to catch, and how to hold. She brought us many kinds of eatable bugs and taught us to snap at flies and to beware of wasps. At night she went forth to hunt for us the slippery mole which slips so swiftly through the grass. At day she purred us sweetly to sleep, or sometimes she let us go with her to the wheatfields and get a peep at the moles and watch the field mice running up and down the wheat stalks.

Moles.

“We lived in the hayloft and oh what frolics we used to have! What frolics! What frolics! We raced, we scampered, we skipped, we hopped, we tumbled over each other, we tumbled over ourselves, we chased each others’ tails, we chased our own tails, we played hide-and-seek in the hay, we scrambled up the beams, we ran along the rafters, we peeped down, we took turns sitting in our sunbeam—I speak now of a sunbeam which shone through a knot-hole.

With Her Eyes Half Shut.

“Our mother liked to curl herself up and sit with her eyes half shut watching our sports. She would sit a long, long time, scarcely moving, except to stir the end of her tail. We were happy to have her near us. She was gentle in her manners, though of course when she was watching, or catching, or holding, she looked fierce. Any cat would do so. She was not one of the cross kind, always cuffing and boxing and snapping and growling and spitting. She never punished us but once and that was when we were very little. We fell down the crooked stairs which led up to our home. She had always made us keep away from the small ends of the crooked stairs because there was no room there to put our paws.

Watching a Mouse.

“One day our mother had been watching a mouse at the bottom of the crooked stairs while we played at the top. I hopped too near the small ends and peeped down and my brothers and sisters hopped at me, and down we all went, heels over head. Our mother was angry, for she lost the mouse. We went without our dinner and had other punishment which I need not mention.

White Satin at Home.

“Now the noise we made in falling down and in being punished was heard by some girls playing on the barn floor and they scrambled up a ladder to find out what was the matter. When one of the girls who climbed up the ladder saw me she said, ‘Oh! oh! A black kitten! Do give it to me! She will make three! Then I shall have three black ones and three white ones!’

“‘Yes! do take her!’ said the other girl. ‘If you don’t take her she will be drowned.’

“The next day I was put in a box with holes in the cover and carried a long, long way to a strange place. This made me sorrowful, but still I was glad not to be drowned, and after the first day the five other kittens began to be friendly, and the two black ones were glad I came, for there were then as many black ones as white ones. I was named Black Velvet to match White Velvet. The others were Black Floss and White Floss and Black Satin and White Satin.

“White Satin used to run away and go home to her mother and her sisters. She had a gray mother and two gray sisters. Sometimes we went with her. She liked to play with her sisters and show them her ribbon. Our mistress wished us not to go and tried to keep us in the house. I did not like this, I wanted to scamper across the garden, or down to the river, or across a field to an old barn. I peeped all about and found good places to get out by. Then I used to coax White Velvet, and White Floss, and White Satin, and Black Floss, and Black Satin to go. I always went first and they followed.

They Looked Down Upon Us.

“There were two gray kittens living in the barn, and the first day we went there these two ran and jumped into a wheelbarrow and looked down upon us. Pretty soon they began to stretch out their necks, and shake their tails. Then they crept down, then they crept towards us, and began to glare and spit, and sputter, and their tails grew so big we thought we had better go home.

“We liked to go to the barn on account of the chances to catch mice. The gray kittens flew at us every time we went, and at last one of them hit White Velvet in the eye and made it bleed. Our mistress kept us in the house after that, but we had fun racing over the beds and playing in the curtains. We played in the curtains so much that our claws had to be cut at the points. We were almost as well treated as children. Our milk was warmed, we had plenty of squash, and fish, and a good deal of chicken meat. Catnip was brought for us. We had each a basket to sleep in, and the baskets were trimmed with ribbons and had cushions. We had ribbons on our necks; the catnip was good.

“But I did not like staying in the house all the time and every chance there was I jumped out at an open window or door, and White Velvet, White Floss, White Satin, Black Floss and Black Satin all jumped and went wherever I went. But after the Great Whirlwind, I was kept in the house. I will now speak of the Great Whirlwind.

“It was a cold day and it seemed as if a door never would be left open, but one was left open at last, and out I went, and out went White Velvet, White Floss, White Satin, Black Floss and Black Satin after me. We raced across the fields to the barn. The gray kittens were not at home and we watched mouse-holes, and chased mice till a man came and drove us out and shut the door tight.

We Saw a Great Dog Coming.

“The wind blew; the sky was dark; the sun did not shine. We felt rain drops. This set us scampering. When we were in the field we saw a great dog coming and we ran to a tree and scampered up. I stopped to spit at the dog and was the last one up. The sky grew blacker, the wind blew harder and harder. The dog lay down on the ground and howled. Not one of us durst come down. The rain came hard upon us. The tree branches whirled round and round. It was a great wind. It was a whirlwind. It blew off all the leaves that had been left on and then it blew us off. For it was a great wind. Yes, a whirlwind. A dreadful whirlwind. I hope, dear Lady Yellow-paw, that neither you nor any one at this famous party will ever know the feeling of being blown off a tree in a whirlwind. I hope you nor any one at this famous party will know the feeling of being in a tree in a whirlwind with claws that have been pared down at the points. None of our bones were broken. How thankful we all ought to be that we are cats and not children, for we have cushions on our feet, so that we can be blown down without having any bones broken.

“None of our bones were broken but we were drenched with the wet rain. We were almost dead with the fright and the wet rain and we crawled all the way home.

Off a Tree in a Whirlwind.

“Our mistress was looking for us. She said, ‘Oh you naughties, come in quick!’ We crawled in and she wiped us with a dry cloth and laid us in a row in front of the stove, and gave us a warm supper and then some catnip.

“After this she kept me in the house. Said she, ‘Black Velvet, you put mischief into the others’ heads and I will keep you in. Black Satin, Black Floss, White Velvet, White Floss and White Satin you may go. Black Velvet shall stay with me.’

“It was hard to see Black Floss, Black Satin, White Velvet, White Floss and White Satin skipping in the yard, over fences, up and down clothes-poles, and be myself shut up indoors. But how little we know what is best for us! One day those others did of themselves go to a corn-house, and there they tasted bad meat which had been put there to kill rats, and they all died! Every one, Black Floss, Black Satin, White Velvet, White Floss, White Satin, every one died. Oh how my mistress did cry! And I too. Yes, I was sad and lonely. I went crying round from room to room, calling for my lost playmates. I looked in all their baskets.

My Mistress.

“My mistress seemed to love me more than ever. ‘I have only you, now, Black Velvet,’ she would say. Then she would hug me and hug me. She let me do what I pleased. I had thick cream. When she was sewing I jumped on her shoulder and played in her hair, and I went to sleep in her hat, if I wanted to, and in her work-basket. When she went out to walk she used to take me with her and wrap me up in her apron, and talk to me. But when I grew to be a cat she made me a blanket of my own. It was a good one. It was my own blanket. She loved me a great deal.

“I said at the beginning of my story that it is a wonderful story. You will say that this is true when you hear what happened to me next.

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