“Only a cat,” they said. “Let her get down the way she came up.”
“Oh, dear! dear!” I mewed, “must I stay on this roof till I perish from hunger?” For now it was beginning to get dark and cloudy and to look like rain. “Oh, meow! meow!”
Just as I was giving up hope, the skylight opened again.
“There she is, sir,” I heard the old man say, then a young man put his head out, and looked at me.
He had a good face. I'm only a kitten, but I've found out that if a man spends his life in doing good, he has a good face.
I trusted him, and yet I was afraid to go to him, if you can understand that.
“Kitty,” he said soberly, “over there,” and he waved his hand toward the heart of the city, “is a place where lost dogs and cats are sheltered. Come to me, and I will take you to it. Come——” and he held out his hand.
“Oh, meow! meow!” I said, “if I go to you, perhaps you will throw me away down there in that raging, horrible street.”
“No, Pussy,” he said seriously, shaking his head. “No, I never have deceived an animal. Come here, and I will put you in a nice basket where no one will see you, and I will carry you through the noisy street. Here——” and he threw me a tiny piece of liver.
Now, I am very fond of nicely cooked liver. I think it is vulgar to eat it raw. Fortunately, I caught the liver, and it did taste good, and made me think more of the man. He still had some in his hand. I smelt it, so I crept timidly toward him along the roof.