Mr. Brown spoke gently to the black kitten with the white feet and picked her up. He stroked her softly, rubbed her under her ears, at which she tilted her head and stretched out her neck as if she loved to be petted that way. Then Mr. Brown taught Whitefeet her first trick. He set her on Patter’s back.
The little cat remained there a moment, but just as Patter started to walk around, as he had been in the habit of doing, Whitefeet jumped down.
“Oh, she won’t do it,” sighed Sue.
“I’ll try again,” said Mr. Brown.
Once more he put Whitefeet up on Patter’s back, and this time the cat remained. She settled down as if contented and comfortable.
“Oh, isn’t that cute!” and “Just look at that!” cried the people who were watching the trick dog and the little cat.
CHAPTER XIII
PATTER AND THE CRAB
Patter now seemed to have matters just as he wanted them. He had gotten his wish—that is if dogs ever wish—for he had the little black cat, with her four white feet, up on his back. And, once he had her there, he began marching around. Later on Bunny and Sue learned that this is just what Patter used to do in the show where the Frenchman exhibited him.
Down the long room, lined on either side with the church-fair tables, marched the dog with the cat on his back. Patter seemed rather proud of what he was doing, and the cat appeared to like it—that is, as much as cats like anything of the sort. Cats are not as fond of doing tricks as dogs are. They are, Bunker Blue used to say, “rather stuck-up.”
But, though Whitefeet might seem proud and “stuck-up,” she did not offer to jump off Patter’s back. Perhaps she had been taught to do this by some boy or girl where she formerly lived. As I have told you, the cat was a strange one in the neighborhood of the opera house. None of the boys or girls remembered to have seen her before.