“'You!' says Tom.”
“'Yis, me, Tom Connor,' says she; 'and the neighbours wondhers that a respectable man like you allows your cat to go about the counthry barefutted,' says she.”
“'Is it a cat to ware shoes?' says Tom.”
“'Why not?' says she; 'doesn't horses ware shoes?—and I have a prettier foot than a horse, I hope,' says she, with a toss of her head.”
“'Faix, she spakes like a woman; so proud of her feet,' says Tom to himself, astonished, as you may suppose, but pretending never to think it remarkable all the time; and so he went on discoursin'; and says he, 'It's thrue for you, ma'am,' says he, 'that horses wares shoes—but that stands to rayson, ma'am, you see—seeing the hardship their feet has to go through on the hard roads.'”
“'And how do you know what hardship my feet has to go through?' says the cat, mighty sharp.”
“'But, ma'am,' says Tom, 'I don't well see how you could fasten a shoe on you,' says he.”
“'Lave that to me,' says the cat.”
“'Did any one ever stick walnut shells on you, pussy?' says Tom, with a grin.”
“'Don't be disrespectful, Tom Connor,' says the cat, with a frown.”