Miss Eleanor came to me, saying, "What is the matter?" Of course I could not tell her, but I did not want to have such visitors again. I would rather give them my dinner.
We had a very light supper, and my mistress promised me the sequel to my Thanksgiving the next day. Indeed, the sequel beat the beginning, and I thought how nice it would be always to live on sequels.
They took a big platter, and stood it on a newspaper on the floor. In it was the carcass of the turkey and all the giblets. Miss Milly said I should, for once, have a real low-minded junket.
And I did. It was like a bone-yard, with the remains all around me. I felt so generous that I would willingly have said "come" to all the poor relations in the world. They would be welcome to all the bones I had picked and all of the quack. It was lovely, but I was greased from head to foot. When tired, I seated myself on the bones, in the midst of the carcass, and my fur was glued together in places.
The work of cleaning me was something fearful. I was as patient as I could be, though I could not help jerking away a few times. Miss Milly said, "You do not look like my lovely Daisy," and it was many days before I looked like myself again.
That evening my mistress let me look at the photograph of our nice young friend. I thought it lovely and a very good likeness. I gave a little purr at it, but I suppose a gobble or a crow would have been more appropriate.
She is a very dear friend to my mistress, and I am very fond of her. When she comes in, I always keep awake to hear her talk. She is very fascinating. I do not think she cares very much for cats. I suppose it is because she does not know much about them. One thing I do know: she would be kind to them, for when I am left alone with her, she smiles at me and says, "Daisy, you are a nice cat," just the same as if my mistress were here.
Some people make so much of me before my mistress, but behind her back say, "Scat, you old cat!" There is no need for them to speak. I know them, and would not go near them on any account. Then I do wish I could speak and warn my mistress of their falseness.
One of these people called one day and brought her great boy with her. He could hardly keep his hands off of me. When my mistress took his mother into the next room, to show her some work, he lingered behind, thinking, "Now is my opportunity."
He pulled my ear and yelled "Sassage meat" in it. Whatever he meant by his "sassage meat" I did not know, but I saw my opportunity and gave him a good dig with my claws and made his cheek bleed. He bellowed well, like a real calf, and his mother looked daggers at me, for I boldly stood my ground. I would not go to my retreat under the bed, for I was not to blame.