“Yes, sir. He was out playin' in the yard a minute ago. I guess you can see him from the winder.”
So saying she stepped forward, and looking out, all at once gave a shrill scream, and rushed from the room, leaving her employer in his bolt-upright attitude gazing after her with as much astonishment as he was capable of.
The cause of her sudden exit was revealed on looking out of the window.
Master Benjamin, or Ben, as he was called everywhere except in his own family, had got possession of the black kitten, and appeared to be submerging her in the hogshead of rainwater.
“O, you wicked, cruel boy, to drown poor Kitty!” exclaimed the indignant Hannah, rushing into the yard and endeavoring to snatch her feline favorite—an attempt which Ben stoutly resisted.
Doubtless the poor kitten would have fared badly between the two, had not the window opened, and the deliberate voice of his father, called out in tones which Ben saw fit to heed.
“What?”
“Come into my presence immejiately, and learn to answer me with more respect.”
Ben came in looking half defiant.
His father, whose perpendicularity made him look like a sitting grenadier, commenced the examination thus:—