Pomp sat down, and for five minutes seemed absorbed in his book. Then, unfortunately, the cat walked into the room, and soon attracted the attention of the young student. He sidled from his seat so silently that Frank did not hear him. He was soon made sensible that Pomp was engaged in some mischief by hearing a prolonged wail of anguish from the cat.
Looking up, he found that his promising pupil had tied her by the leg to a chair, and under these circumstances was amusing himself by pinching her tail.
“What are you doing there, Pomp?” he asked quickly.
Pomp scuttled back to his seat, and appeared to be deeply intent upon his primer.
“Ain't doin' noffin', Mass' Frank,” he answered innocently.
“Then how came the cat tied to that chair?”
“'Spec' she must have tied herself.”
“Come, Pomp, you know better than that. You know cats can't tie themselves. Get up immediately and unfasten her.”
Pomp rose with alacrity, and undertook to release puss from the thraldom of which she had become very impatient. Perhaps she would have been quite as well off if she had been left to herself. The process of liberation did not appear to be very agreeable, judging from the angry mews which proceeded from her. Finally, in her indignation against Pomp for some aggressive act, she scratched him sharply.
“You wicked old debble!” exclaimed Pomp wrathfully.