“Why, no! Why should I see an elephant in my yard? It wasn’t nearly so big as that—it was a little thing!”
“A fish!” ventured Eddy Brown, whose eye fell upon the aquarium in the corner. The raconteuse smiled patiently.
“Why, no! How could a fish, a live fish, get in my front yard?”
“A dead fish?” persisted Eddy, who was never known to relinquish voluntarily an idea.
“It was a little kitten,” said the story-teller, decidedly. “A little white kitten. She was standing right near a great big puddle of water. And what else do you think I saw?”
“Another kitten?” suggested Marantha conservatively.
“No, a big Newfoundland dog. He saw the little kitten near the water. Now cats don’t like the water, do they? They don’t like a wet place. What do they like?”
“Mice!” said Joseph Zukoffsky abruptly.
“Well, yes, they do; but there were no mice in my yard. I’m sure you know what I mean. If they don’t like water, what do they like?”
“Milk!” cried Sarah Fuller confidently.