Little Mitchell: The Story of a Mountain Squirrel

by Margaret Warner Morley

I think they knew he was there, for they used to smell about the door and act as kits do when they think there is a mouse inside. Not that Baby Mitchell smelled at all like a mouse,—indeed, he was the sweetest, cleanest little dot that ever wore a fur coat,—never any unpleasant odor about him. But kits can smell so much sharper than we, that they no doubt knew there was some little chap in there, and they no doubt thought the little stranger needed their attention. For they were famous hunters, and caught all the mice on the place, as well as all the squirrels and birds they could, and even the rabbits.

Of course it was too bad for them to catch the birds and squirrels; but they were not really to blame, for they did not know any better. They thought all little animals ought to be eaten up by kits, if kits could catch them.

Not that they ever got very hungry, for they always had enough, and more than enough, in their plates around at the back of the kitchen. Every morning and evening, when the man brought the fresh milk, their dishes were filled, and when they heard him sing out, “Poos, p-ooo-s, p-ooo-s,” they would come running out of the woods, or from under the house, or off the porch, or wherever they happened to be,—for no matter how many mice and squirrels and birds they had eaten they were always able to drink a little milk.

It was fun to see their heads close together in the dish; only Goliah would never eat with the others. He had to have his dish separate, and sometimes he would not eat at all unless his mistress took him in the house and let him sit by her chair. He would not even eat the nice meat and things the gentleman’s wife gave the kits every day unless she fixed a plate for him all by himself.

By this time you will have guessed that the gentleman’s wife was fond of kittens.

Long ago, when Grandma was young, there were twenty kits to take care of. They were all Grandma’s children or grandchildren, and they accumulated before the gentleman’s wife could harden her heart enough to cause some of them to disappear when they were first born. Those were great days for the cats! And it was a sight to see them come running when the man brought in the milk and called “Poos, p-ooo-s, p-ooo-s.”

It was a sight, too, to see them go walking with the family. When the gentleman and his wife would start for a walk in the cool of the evening, all the kits would go tagging on behind, with their tails in the air, as proud as you please. But as years passed, some of them died of old age or otherwise disappeared, until finally there were only Peterkin, Jack, Hallet, and Goliah left,—a very harmonious family, all but Goliah, who was sometimes cross to the other kits, and would growl at them and slap their faces, which seemed to astonish them very much.

Peterkin, Jack, Hallet, and Goliah were the only cats that belonged there when Baby Mitchell appeared upon the scene. Not that Baby Mitchell was seen much, for he stayed in his lady’s room, with the door shut, all the time.

But Billy came every day to drink the milk and eat the good things the other cats had. Billy belonged to the man who brought the milk, and he had plenty to eat at home. Still, he liked to come, and the gentleman’s wife let him, because he was related to Grandma too. He was a funny-looking cat, rather square in shape, and he had a way of scratching with his hind legs, like a dog. He was cross to Goliah and would cuff him when he got a chance.