“Oh, no-o-o, oh, no-o-o,” wailed Sara Ray lugubriously.
Felix shot a disgusted glance at her.
“I don’t see what YOU are making such a fuss about,” he said unfeelingly. “He wasn’t your cat.”
“But I l-l-oved him,” sobbed Sara, “and I always feel bad when my friends d-do.”
“I wish we could believe that cats went to heaven, like people,” sighed Cecily. “Do you really think it isn’t possible?”
Uncle Blair shook his head.
“I’m afraid not. I’d like to think cats have a chance for heaven, but I can’t. There’s nothing heavenly about cats, delightful creatures though they are.”
“Blair, I’m really surprised to hear the things you say to the children,” said Aunt Janet severely.
“Surely you wouldn’t prefer me to tell them that cats DO go to heaven,” protested Uncle Blair.
“I think it’s wicked to carry on about an animal as those children do,” answered Aunt Janet decidedly, “and you shouldn’t encourage them. Here now, children, stop making a fuss. Bury that cat and get off to your apple picking.”