“And feel what he’ll feel,” said Cracker; “and serve him right, says I.”
“But I fear,” said Shireen, “this is somewhat of a digression. You were talking, Stamboul, of your pleasant and delightful cattery, the home of your kittenhood.”
“Yes. Well, I shall go on with my story.”
Chapter Nineteen.
In a Cat-Dealer’s Den.
“The cattery then,” continued Stamboul, “in which I was born, was really a very pleasant home, chiefly I think from the fact that dear old Mrs Rayne studied our ways and habits. She didn’t stint us in food either.”
“Gave you plenty of fish, I suppose?” said Cracker.
“Well,” said Stamboul, smiling, “I do not deny that cats do like a bit of fish; but, bless you, my dear Cracker, it is a mistake to think they don’t like flesh far better.”