Serena's box was soon put on the veranda, and I found that she was in a fine rage because she had not been allowed to come in the carriage with us. “To think of putting me in with the servants,” she said angrily, “and why am I not let out? Can't you get a hatchet?”
“I don't know where there is one,” I said, “and if I did, I could not hold it in my paws.”
“Well, do something,” she said. “Sit down and mew.”
I sat down beside her box, and screamed for help. Mary soon came running. “Anthony, Anthony,” she called, “Black-Face wants you to let her sister out of the box.”
The servant man came hurrying from the carriage-house, and soon Serena had her liberty.
“Now, Slyboots,” said Mary, and the poor street cat was lifted out.
She went right back in the box again, and lay there till some one let out the farmer's big black and white dog. He had been shut up before we arrived lest he should molest us. Now he came bustling up, his tail in the air, his nose excited, as if to say, “Who are all these strange creatures that I smell?”
“Barlo,” said Mr. Gleason coming out of the kitchen, “if you touch these cats, I shall whip you.”
He stared up in his master's face, and wagged his tail. Oh! how he did want to chase us! Serena and I stood with our backs up. Slyboots slowly rose from the box that I fancy she thought would be her coffin, and slunk into the house.
At this instant fortunately, Barlo caught sight of Mona and Dolly who were lying panting under the trees. Here were two lady visitors. He could not be rude to them. In great delight he ran toward them, prostrated himself on the ground, begged them to play, but they would not. Then he ran like a fox to the orchard, and began to dig up buried bones from the ploughed land. These he brought and laid before Mona and Dolly.