"Does James Seton know anything about cats?" enquired Jerry eagerly. "You know they're my favourite animals—just like guinea-pigs are Bobbie's—and I do want to get some new recipes for my cat-book!"
"Why whatever is a cat-book, Miss Jerry?" asked Jeptha curiously.
"Don't you know, Jeptha? I write down all sorts of cures for cats, and what they ought to eat; and several times it's been very useful to Miss Meadows and Maria."
"I can't say I know much about the subject, Miss Jerry, nor I don't think Jim doesn't, neither, never having made a study of it, as you may say. Miss Meadders is the tabby cat, ain't she? A very fine cat I call her."
"Yes; I made a portrait of her and Maria, to send to mamma out in India, and Bobbie made a picture of Funnel (not you, you know). She liked them so much. Shall I tell you why Bobbie is so interested in guinea-pigs?" continued Jerry, taking the old man's hand, and speaking in a mysterious whisper.
"You know Jack belongs to the 'Cavey Club' at school, where all the boys must keep guinea-pigs; and he wrote Bobbie a letter last term with a picture of a guinea-pig on the flap of the envelope, and 'Where is it?' written where the tail ought to be. Ever since then Bobbie has been mad after guinea-pigs."
"Yes, I can remember Master Jack a-walking in here with ten of 'em," said Jeptha, "and keepin' 'em in the lumber room in houses made out of cigar-boxes."
"Oh, but Aunt Lucy found it out, and wouldn't allow it," said Jerry. "They all had to be taken out to the stable yard again."
"I must own I think on that occasion yer Aunt was reasonable, Miss Jerry; a guinea-pig don't seem a kind of a domestic indoor animal—like a cat, for instance."
"Will you have mufflings and crumfits for tea, do you think, when we come?" enquired Bobbie, after a thoughtful pause. "Excuse me asking you, but I do like them so very much."