What a droll duet it was! Franz Abt's beautiful song was never before thus rendered.
“I love thee, dearest, thee alone,
Love thee, and only thee!”
sang Flossie, while little pussy, regardless of time or sentiment, sang “me-u! me-ow! me-u! me-u!”
“Our voices don't har-mer-lize, pussy, I know they don't. You'll just have to practise alone. That's what Mollie Merton's mamma said last night when Uncle Harry and Aunt Vera sang together. She said: ‘Oh, how beautifully their voices har-mer-lize.’ Now that's just what our voices don't do, so I'll put you right on to the keys, and you can practise the 'comfrement alone.”
Flossie ran to the window to see if any of her playmates were in sight, while the kitten, left to amuse herself, walked slowly across the keyboard, and sat down upon the lower bass notes.
The French maid paused in the doorway.
“Ah, it is the petite beast that the bad music makes. I will the feline terrible remove, before she more mischief does do.”
“Don't take the kitten out, Marie,” cried Flossie, “I'm making her practise her lesson.”
“Eh, bien! In this great mansion where all do so much learning have, even the petite cat must an education get! What more astounding could one behold?”
“I want to make her learn the song Uncle Harry sang last night. Did you hear him sing, Marie? Wasn't his voice sweet?”