Mr. Jarvis looked astonished.
"English beetles," said Psmith, "don't make cats thin. Passing lightly—"
"I had a cat oncest," said Mr. Jarvis, ignoring the remark and sticking to his point, "dat ate beetles and got thin and used to tie itself into knots."
"A versatile animal," agreed Psmith.
"Say," Mr. Jarvis went on, now plainly on a subject near to his heart, "dem beetles is fierce. Sure. Can't keep de cats off of eatin' dem, I can't. First t'ing you know dey've swallowed dem, and den dey gits thin and ties theirselves into knots."
"You should put them into strait-waistcoats," said Psmith. "Passing, however, lightly—"
"Say, ever have a cross-eyed cat?"
"Comrade Jackson's cats," said Psmith, "have happily been almost free from strabismus."
"Dey's lucky, cross-eyed cats is. You has a cross-eyed cat, and not'in' don't never go wrong. But, say, was dere ever a cat wit one blue eye and one yaller one in your bunch? Gum, it's fierce when it's like dat. It's a real skiddoo, is a cat wit one blue eye and one yaller one. Puts you in bad, surest t'ing you know. Oncest a guy give me a cat like dat, and first t'ing you know I'm in bad all round. It wasn't till I give him away to de cop on de corner and gets me one dat's cross-eyed dat I lifts de skiddoo off of me."
"And what happened to the cop?" inquired Psmith, interested.