Now the back of a cow is the last place where you would think of looking for a cat; so when the starlings saw the cow coming, they didn't think it worth while to use their wings, and when the cow was quite close to the birds—beautiful, fat, delightful birds—my sister used to pick out with her eye the fattest starling, and then leap suddenly from the cow's back on to her prey. She never missed.
"I have never known," said my poor mother with tears of pride in her green eyes—"I have never known a cat do anything so clever."
"It's all your doing, mother dear," said my sister prettily; "if you hadn't taught me so well when I was little, I should never have thought of it." And they kissed each other affectionately.
I showed my claws and growled. My mother shook her tabby head.
"O Buff," she said, "if you had only been willing to learn when you were little, you might have been as clever as your sister, instead of being the great anxiety you are to me."
"Now the back of a cow is the last place where you would look for a cat."
"And why am I an anxiety?" I said, ruffling up my fur and my tail, for I was very angry.
"Because you are useless," she said, "and not particularly handsome; and when a cat is useless and not particularly handsome, they sometimes——"
"What?" I said, turning pale to the ends of my ears.