“You ugly black brute,” she cried; “you’ll steal nae mair eggs in this warld.”
Dan then threw the sack over his shoulders, and accompanied by his wife as grave-digger, and Archie the weaver as chief mourner, they proceeded to the garden to bury the unfortunate Tom. A grave was dug at the foot of a gooseberry bush, and Dan opening the mouth of the sack, proceeded to shake out the mangled remains of the cat. You may judge of the chagrin and disgust of Dan and his cruel Bell, when those same mangled remains no sooner touched the ground, than they got together again somehow, and springing out of the grave, made their way like greased lightning out of the garden and off. The tables were turned. Dan was chief mourner now.
“Curse the cat!” he roared.
Dan’s wife was equal to the occasion.
“You’re a fool, gudeman,” she said,—and indeed, he did not look much unlike one,—“the cat’s the deevil, and you can fill in the grave yersel’.”
CHAPTER X.
[See [Note J], Addenda.]
NOMADISM IN CATS.