“Have you any other injuries?”
“One of my legs is ripped.”
“Lie right down,” I said, “and I will attend to you. You can't reach your ear.”
I smoothed the fur on her head, I cleaned her nicely all over as long as she would let me. At last she got up, and uttered a grave, “Thank you.” Then she said quietly: “Some of these country cats be spiteful. We Boston cats must hang together,” and with these words she crept away.
Serena soon came out from under the bed, and got on top of it, and I lay down beside her. I slept until little Mary came to bed, and then it was so still that I could not sleep. Beacon Hill is a quiet place, one does not hear the cars up there, but still there is something doing and breathing at night. Here, in lovely Maine, there is absolutely nothing. The quiet seems to press upon you. I didn't sleep night before last which was the first night we were here, and I did not sleep last night. To-night I think I shall have a good rest. All day yesterday we—that is, dogs and cats—lay about and rested. Animals always do that after a journey, or after any exertion, unless they are prevented.
I often watch Mona and Dolly when they come from a long tramp with Mr. Denville. They go in their kennels and sleep, but he begins to read or write, or do something that taxes his brain, and kitten as I may be, I am beginning to think that body fatigue isn't equal to head fatigue. Mr. Denville would do better to lie down and rest as the dogs do, after he has had a long tramp.
Well, I have had a good quiet think to-night, even if I don't sleep. To-morrow I want to go over the farm. Serena will be herself then. Her slight scratches have closed already. I wonder what to-morrow will bring forth; I do hope we shall have no more fights.
CHAPTER XII
MY HEADSTRONG SISTER
I am very much disturbed about something to-night. However, what is the use of worrying? What will be, will be, and if you can't prevent a thing, don't vex your brains over it, but keep cool and calm, and reserve your strength to mend the mischief after it's done.
My dear sister is, I fancy, running her head into trouble. Slyboots and I both fear it, but we can't stop her. She has announced her intention of spending to-morrow night hunting in company with—well, I can hardly believe it possible—Blizzard and his wife Rosy.