“Will Cyclone go, too, and the rabbits?” asked Kenneth, at his mother’s knee.
“No, dear, only Weejums can go with us, for it’s a long trip, you remember, and there are plenty of rabbits around New York.”
“But not Dulcie,” said Kenneth, with a quivering lip, “or—Stamper!”
Perhaps the time when one first discovers that pets are only pets, and not real people, as one had supposed, is the saddest moment of one’s little life,—especially when it often turns out that the best-loved animal is not at all valuable, and must be left behind.
Many tears were shed by the younger children, and a few in private by Franklin, as the rabbits were made over to “Beansy,” and Cyclone was carried off triumphantly by a boy who had long desired him. But Franklin knew that all this meant a turning point in his life, and laid aside the money that he received for his pets to help buy school books, and, as he said, “instruments,” for Franklin was going to be a doctor.
Eunice and Kenneth recovered their spirits at the thought of living within a short distance of New York, where there would be matinees, concerts, and immense toy-shops where one could go in and hear the fur animals squeal, without being expected to buy one. All the wonderful wind-up toys came from New York; it was their home, and the home of Huyler’s chocolates, with their many different kinds of linings.
But it was hard to leave Clytie at the hospital, even if everybody was delighted to see her, and the young doctor did show Franklin the operating-room, and ever so many things in bottles.
Clytie’s last night at home was quite pathetic, because she thought, up to the last moment, that the family was packing to take her to the lake, and had begun to wash Paul Jones and Proserpine for the journey. They were quite big cats now, but, lacking younger sisters, had to be washed as hard as if they were new.
“I must say I don’t care for travel,” said Clytie to Torn-nose out on the fence; “Mother does. But I’ve always been the old-fashioned feline kind of cat that likes a home.”
“One sees a great deal of life,” said Torn-nose, thoughtfully.