“SEE WHAT SANTA HAS BROUGHT THE CHRISTMAS CAT”
“Of course they both belong to Christine,” said Kenneth, “but may I not call one of them mine, and the other one Rose’s?”
“I want the yellow one,” said Rose.
“I like the black one best,” said Kenneth, “so that is all right.” But Christine licked both the kittens with her pink tongue and purred happily.
“I like them both best, and they are both mine,” she seemed to say.
Then the children took out the presents from the little white sock. There was a pretty collar and a bow of ribbon,—yellow, which was Christine’s most becoming color. And there was a little bunch of catnip instead of candy. Santa seemed to know just what a little cat would best like. But nothing seemed to please Christine so much as the tiny balls of black and yellow fur in her basket. And the children did not blame her. For indeed, of all their Christmas gifts,—except Alice, the new doll, and Kenneth’s jack-knife,—they each liked best the kitten which they had chosen.
“I shall call my kitten Buff,” said Rose, touching the little yellow ball gently.
“And mine shall be Fluff,” said Kenneth, who liked to make rhymes sometimes. “Oh, I am so glad that we took Christine in out of the snow, Rose! For if we hadn’t, perhaps Santa would never have thought of leaving us these dear little kittens.”
And I shouldn’t wonder if Kenneth was right.