And while the little girl was in the house, asking her mother if she could keep the cat, Blackie ran down the stoop, laughing in her own way, as she looked at the doll, and thought how she had mistaken it for a baby.
The dog came out from under the stoop where he had run to get away from Blackie and he was up beside the doll again when the little girl came out once more.
“Oh, where is that nice black cat?” asked the little girl, looking all around. “Where is he, Fido? Mother said I might keep her, but she is gone. Do you know where she is?”
“Bow wow!” barked Fido. “I’m glad she is gone. I don’t like her, for she scared me. I’m glad she isn’t going to live here.”
Of course the little girl did not know that her dog Fido said that, but he really did. She was sorry, the little girl was, that the cat had gone away. But it was best in the end, for I suppose Blackie and the dog would not have gotten along well together.
Down the street trotted the black cat, feeling not so hungry now. But she was still far from home, and she did not know when she would find the place where she used to live so very happily.
“I’ll never run away again,” Blackie said. “I’ve had enough of it. I have had adventures, it is true, and I am a good deal better fence-jumper than I used to be, but I have had a hard time of it. I will have many things to tell Speckle when I see him. And I wish I could see him right now, for then I would be home.”
The next day when Blackie was traveling through a woods, and hoping that on the other side of it she might find the city where her house was, she saw a funny animal hopping along over the dried leaves. The animal looked like a cat, for it had fur, only it was white instead of black. And the animal had pink eyes and a pink nose.
“How do you do?” asked Blackie politely, for she saw that the animal was not going to hurt her.
“I am pretty well,” answered the white animal. “How are you and what is your name?”