Something tiny and black was moving along through the snow on the sidewalk. It gave little hops, each time sinking down almost out of sight, stopping to rest between jumps as though it were very tired. The children watched it breathlessly.
At last it came to the long flight of steps, which looked like a smooth toboggan-slide of snow. But the little black creature seemed to know what was underneath the cold white covering, for it hopped bravely up on the lowest step, then up and up, step by step, to the landing, where the snow was not so deep. And now the children could see it plainly.
“Why, it’s a poor little kitty!” cried Kenneth, almost pushing the glass out of the window with his small, cold nose, so eager was he to watch the little stranger.
“And she has come to our ownty-donty steps!” echoed Rose. “Poor little kitty, how cold she must be!”
Just at that moment the wet little black thing looked up at the window where Rose stood, and just as if she had heard what Rose said, the poor kitty answered very sadly, “Mi-a-o-ow!”
All this time it had been snowing harder and harder, and already the tracks which the kitty had made in the snow were blotted out of sight. At the same moment Kenneth and Rose made a dash for the front door. “We mustn’t let the poor kitty stay there,” said Kenneth, “she will be all drowned in the snow, and frozen, too.”
“Yes, we must bring her in and make her nice and warm,” said Rose.
So they opened the front door, and stood at the head of the steps calling, “Kitty, kitty!” very gently, while the snow whirled in about their ankles.
“Mi-a-ow!” answered the black cat, but this time she spoke more cheerfully. “Thank you!” she seemed to say. “May I really come in?”
“Come in,” said Kenneth.