“Next morning I astonished and delighted the children by appearing among them to breakfast. I had captured a huge rat, and, bringing it in with me, I laid it on the hearth to show my prowess. By so doing I quite ingratiated myself with the old man.
“And so it ended by my taking up my abode with these good people.
“When summer came again I used to go roving in the forest, for a very delightful life I found it. Nevertheless, I invariably came home in the evening, and did my best to keep the outhouse clear of rats and the rooms indoors free from the plague of mice.
“I was a great favourite with this humble family, and many people came from afar to see the wonderful wild cat as they called me, who had been tamed by the power of kindness.
“I loved the old man, and used to sit on his knee of an evening, as he sat and smoked his short clay pipe by the fire; and I loved the children too, especially little Alfred, the boy who would never go to bed at night until I was ready to go with him.
“Poor wee fellow, he fell ill at last, and this was the beginning of the end of life in the grand old forest.
“Alfred died, and they took him away to his long home, and I never saw him more. But I used often and often in the bright summer days to go and sit on his little grave and think of him. People said I expected he would one day come again. Nothing of the sort. Cats know what death is, and I felt sure that Alfred would never, never come again.
“I knew these people were very, very poor, because one day, when a lady came to see the wonderful wild cat and took quite a fancy to me and offered my master a long price, he reluctantly agreed to part with me.
“He sat silent for a long time.
“But I could see the tears silently coursing down his cheeks.