“Well, then what happened, little one?” asked Mrs. Polly; for the gray kitten was again thrown off her balance by the interruption.
“The next is very sad, indeed,” said the gray kitten. “We were going home, so happy to think our dear mother was so pleased with us, when all at once we heard a dreadful noise. My brother and I were frightened half to death, for we had never heard a noise like it. My mother said it was a dog, and there was a boy with it,—a bad boy; my mother said all boys were bad—”
“Not all boys,” said the barn-cat. “Tom isn’t a bad boy; he wouldn’t hurt a kitten for the world. I’d trust him anywhere with my kittens.”
“He isn’t so mischievous as Posy is,” said the house-cat.
“Posy isn’t mischievous,” said the barn-cat warmly; “she doesn’t mean to do mischief. You can’t call it mischief when she thinks she’s doing something to help you all the time.”
“Please don’t interrupt so often,” said the canary; “you said, little kitten, that a big dog and a boy came up.”
“Yes,” continued the little gray kitten; “and as soon as the boy saw us he said, ‘Hie, Rover, seize ’em, sir!’ and the big dog, looking, oh, so fierce and angry, rushed at us with his mouth wide open, and making that dreadful noise. There was a tree near us, and my mother told my brother and me to climb up the tree as quickly as we could. My poor mother gave us the first chance, for she knew we couldn’t climb as well as she could, and she stood at the foot of the tree with her fur all bristling up and spitting at the big dog. We got up to the first branches where the dog couldn’t reach us; but before my poor mother had time to follow us the big dog seized her, and gave her one shake and killed her.”
Her hearers were very quiet as the little gray kitten ceased and sat crying softly to herself. The barn-cat gave her nose a sharp rub with her paw, and then jumped down and examined very carefully a hole under the window, as if she expected to find a mouse there. Her feelings were very much touched, for she couldn’t help thinking how dreadful it would be if her little kittens were left without a mother to care for them.
“Well,” she said, after a pause, coming back to her place on the window-sill, “what did your brother and you do then?”
“We waited till the boy and the big dog were gone,” said the little gray kitten, “and then we climbed down from the tree and went home. It was very lonely in the old shed, and we almost starved to death, for we were too small to catch mice enough to satisfy our appetites. My brother got tired of living so, and said he was going to try to find a better home where they would feed him, but I stayed where I was.”