Usually she found the baby amusing, but Uncle Harry's little daughter was out for an airing.
The kitten skurried down the hall and Flossie caught her, and ran off to the music-room.
She managed to clamber up on to the stool with pussy in her arms, and reached for the music, which she opened.
“Now that's a very nice song, kitty,” she said, “but you needn't sing it; you can just practise the 'comfrement. Now one, two, three, begin!”
She held the kitten's paws, and forced them to press the keys.
“Me-u! Me-u!” squeaked wee pussy.
“You going to sing and play, too? Why, that's fine,” said Flossie, “only you don't get the tune right.”
“Me-u! Me-u!” wailed the white kitten.
“Now pussy darling, you're real sweet to try, but you don't sing the tune right; it didn't sound like that when Uncle Harry sang it last night. We'll sing it together, and maybe you'll learn it. Put your left paw on do, and your right paw on mi; now sing.”
