A cat never allows a mystery to go unsolved. After it was all over she waited a suitable time, and then she made an investigation. She walked around the monument, she smelt of it, and she clawed it a little. By the time she had satisfied her curiosity it looked like the Leaning Tower of Pisa. That it moved was probably a suggestion to her, for she began scratching the earth; and it soon fell over, leaving a bit of the grave clothing of the poor little bird exposed. This at once was proof positive, and after scratching away the earth she found the mystery.
Jerking up the handkerchief, she soon landed the little corpse, and then she examined it with a critical eye. No coroner inquiring into the cause of a sudden death could have been more careful. After she had inspected it thoroughly she took one claw in her mouth and started for the house, and never rested till she had with great difficulty deposited that bird in its cage and pushed to the door. Then she went home, satisfied that she had done an act of justice and humanity.
It is needless to say how surprised the family were to find the dead returned to them, and they suspected a mischievous boy who lived near; but when Jett dug up that bird for the second time, there were witnesses, and the deed was brought home to her.
The last burial took place while Jett was shut up. They dared not put up the monument, for they knew she would discover the grave by that. She hunted for a week, but she never found that bird again.
All the neighbors looked upon her as a mysterious element that had come into their midst. They believed in the witches having unlimited power over black cats, and never dared interfere with her; indeed, her good will they were very glad to gain.
Jett was devoted to Hope. She never killed a rat without bringing it with a purr of satisfaction, and was not satisfied till her little mistress had noticed her, and said, "What a good kitty to catch the naughty rats."
There was one place the children called the "cats' paradise." It was down in the corner of Jack's garden. Here catmint grew in rank profusion. The place was neglected, but nature had rioted there, and it was all abloom with wild flowers and weeds.
Here Jett held her afternoon teas and musicales, and she would frolic with her friends in the sweet-smelling grass. Her high soprano would mingle with the contralto and other nondescript parts till they produced a "passion music" so terrible in its results that it required all Jack's strength to separate them.
Why these musicales always ended in a free fight, Hope wondered. Jack suggested that the catmint intoxicated them, for they were usually captured with their mouths and paws full of it, and as much on their fur coats as they could hold. But this state of happiness was not quite as satisfactory to others as it was to the cats and the children.
Jack announced one day that she had been disturbed by the musicales, and the catmint period was drawing to an end. Jack said:—