"Mammy Tittleback walked round and round, looking much perplexed and not at all pleased."—[Page 28.]
"Oh, oh," screamed Johnny, "she's going to, she's licked it;" at which Phil gave Johnny a great shake, and told him to be quiet or he'd spoil everything. Presently Mammy Tittleback lay down again and stretched herself out, and in less than a minute all six of her own kittens and the two strongest of the strangers were sucking away as hard as ever they could.
The children jumped for joy; but their joy was dampened by the sight of the other two feeble little kittens, who lay quite still and did not try to crowd in among the rest.
"Are they dead?" asked Rosy.
"No," said Johnny, picking them up,—"no; but I guess they will die pretty soon, they don't maow." And he laid them down very gently close in between Mammy Tittleback's hind legs.
"Well, they might as well," remarked Phil. "Eight kittens are enough. Mammy Tittleback can't bring up all the kittens in the town, you needn't think. She's a real old brick of a cat to take these two. I hope the others will die anyhow."
"O Phil," said Rosy, "couldn't we find some other cat to 'dopt these two?" Rosy's tender heart ached as hard at the thought of these motherless little kittens as if they had been a motherless little boy and girl.
"No," said Phil, "I don't know any other cat round here that's got kittens."
"But, Phil," persisted Rosy, "isn't there some cat that hasn't got any kittens that would like some?"