My mother tried to comfort me, but it was of no use; my heart was nearly broken.
When I went to breakfast, there sat my cousin Josiah, looking as unconcerned as possible, reading a newspaper. He was a student in the college, and boarded at our house. At the sight of him all my indignation and grief broke forth afresh. I began to cry again; and running up to him, I doubled up my fist and shook it in his face.
"I said I'd never speak to you as long as I lived," I cried; "but I will. You're just a murderer, a real murderer; that's what you are! and when you go to be a missionary, I hope the cannibals'll eat you! I hope they'll eat you alive raw, you mean old murderer!"
"Helen Maria!" said my father's voice behind me, sternly. "Helen Maria! leave the room this moment!"
I went away sullenly, muttering, "I don't care, he is a murderer; and I hope he'll be drowned, if he isn't eaten! The Bible says the same measure ye mete shall be meted to you again. He ought to be drowned."
For this sullen muttering I had to go without my breakfast; and after breakfast was over, I was made to beg Cousin Josiah's pardon; but I did not beg it in my heart--not a bit--only with my lips, just repeating the words I was told to say; and from that time I never spoke one word to him, nor looked at him, if I could help it.
My kind mother offered to get another kitten for me, but I did not want one. After a while, my sister Ann had a present of a pretty little gray kitten; but I never played with it, nor took any notice of it at all. I was as true to my Pussy as she was to me; and from that day to this, I have never had another Pussy!
