Dum obediently carried out my instructions while I warmed the milk that Dee had purloined from the supper table over the blessed candle. I sweetened it a little and diluted it with water. I warmed it in Dee's silver pin-tray, as we had no pan of any sort.
"Dip your finger in here, Dee, and let the kitten taste it so it can realize succor is near. It is lots too young to lap and will have to suck a rag."
Dum tore up an old handkerchief for me and in a little while kitty was tugging away for dear life, one end of the bit of cambric in its pink flannel mouth and the other in the pin-tray of milk.
Dum was soon won over to the helpless little thing. "It is sweet, Dee, I declare; let me hold it a minute."
Dee magnanimously handed it over to her sister who held the pin-tray very carefully and let kitty feed as tenderly as any young mother. It soon got its fill and curled up and purred "just like a fairy buzz-saw," Dum declared.
"To think of a tiny cat like that knowing how to purr!" exclaimed Dee.
"To think of a tiny cat like that having such enormous fleas on it," shuddered Dum. "Here, take the beastie, I'm going back to bed before I get full of 'em."
"Yes, they are something awful," sighed Dee, "I am literally eaten alive."
"Poor old Dee! Change your nightgown and leave your bed to the pussy and come snuggle in with me," said Dum.
Pussy slept very well in Dee's bed, waking only about every two hours and mewing for nourishment. Dee and I would get wearily up, warm the milk and administer.