"You little imp of darkness!" cried the doctor. "Such capers in the house of a sober bachelor! You'll be occupying my bedroom next and calling it your own." A prediction which speedily came true, for that very night Kittyboy slyly crept up behind the doctor, and, hiding himself, craftily bided his time, and in the dead of night stole forth and curled himself up on the foot of the bed, waking the doctor in the morning by licking his hand with a red, rough, little tongue. And then followed wild, frantic gambols, dancing and prancing over everything; coquettings with the tassels of a dressing gown; tussles with a slipper; mock fears of a very innocent reflection in the glass; delicate tip-toeings about the dressing table, with attempts to pry into every box and drawer; then one leap into the air and a waltzing after a little black tail whose existence Kittyboy seemed only that moment to have discovered. All this so entertained the doctor, that he lay in bed shaking with laughter at the absurd antics, and went down to breakfast with Kittyboy on his shoulder.
After this it was evident that Kittyboy considered the second-story front bedroom as his own. To be sure he generously allowed Dr. Brewster to share it, to occupy the bed, if he were not in the middle of it; or the doctor might sit in any comfortable chair for which Kittyboy had no immediate use; but the lordly little creature took possession so absolutely that the doctor's sense of humor was greatly tickled by this overweening complacency and confidence, and he meekly took another chair when Kittyboy occupied the better one, or, indeed, moved over to the right side of the bed if Kittyboy preferred the left.
It was the evening of the day which had seen the doctor at the Post Office. It seemed to him that it had been many more than twenty-four hours since the sly little cat had followed him indoors, and had ingratiated himself into the good man's favor. Already the doctor was making a confidant of this same little waif.
"What would you do about it, you little limb of Satan?" he asked, as he opened the letter he had so carefully put aside that morning. "Come, you shall decide. Let us see what sort of oracle you can make. You started this, anyhow, as I remember. Now get me out of it, if you can."
Kittyboy winked soberly, as the doctor thus addressed him, but looked very wise, as if he knew much more than he proposed to tell.
The doctor softly stroked the black fur, which was less rough than it had been the day before. "Shall I go or not?" he asked. "You can advise, and then, like others in the same position, I'll do as I choose. Here is the letter." He shook it at the little creature, who grabbed it in both paws, rolled over with it once or twice, then taking it in his mouth he jumped down from the table and walked off with his prize to the chair where a soft felt hat of the doctor's was lying. Into this jumped Kittyboy, letter and all, and, curling himself up, looked with a knowing wink at the man who was watching him.
"Into this jumped Kittyboy"—Page 26]