The two older cats listened eagerly to Jazbury's tale. "And I'll tell you one thing, Aunt Tabby," mewed Jazbury as he ended his story, "I learned to keep myself clean while I was at Miss Sarah's. You needn't ever bother over that again."
"Well, that's a good thing," replied his aunt. "Almost worth running away for, I should say."
"I don't know about that," sighed his mother. "I don't know whether even that was worth all the unhappiness he gave us."
And Jazbury felt very sad at the thought of all the trouble he had caused.
That night the kitten slept in his own cellar again, with his dear mother and Aunt Tabby, one on either side of him. How safe and warm and happy and sheltered he felt.
When his mother and Aunt Tabby awoke the next morning, however, Jazbury was no longer there.
"What has become of him?" mewed Aunt Tabby. "He surely can't have run away again."
"Oh, no! Never think such a thing," cried his mother. "He has just gone on upstairs. Let's go and find him."
The two cats hurried up the cellar steps together. They found the door at the top already open. As they entered the kitchen they saw Jazbury dragging something in from the shed beyond. Something that was too heavy for him to lift.
