"Are you willing to take a good deal of trouble, Philip?" asked his mother. "If not, it would be kinder to kill the poor thing quickly."
"I am willing; indeed I am!" cried the boy. "Please tell me what to do."
"You should give her a saucer of warm milk, with a little bread crumbed in it first; for the poor kitten must be very hungry. Then she will know you mean to be kind to her. After that she had better sleep. When she wakes up she will begin to feel at home, and then I think we must sponge her gently with warm water, because she is so very dirty. You must not do that alone, but you may hold her and stroke her softly, and if you think she will scratch you I will get you a pair of old gloves."
"Can we not put her in a little tub and bathe her?" asked Philip.
[Illustration: GENTLE KITTY GRAY.]
"It is not best to do that if you can get her clean any other way. Cats do not like water, and it frightens them very much, to be put into it. Once in a great while we hear of cats that will be patient if put into a bath, but usually they will struggle and cry and act very much frightened. As soon as this kitten has been fed and begins to get over her fright at being homeless, you will see her wash herself.
"Then you must make her feel at home," said Mrs. Grant. "You can take her in your arms and carry her about the house, talking softly to her, so that she may feel that you will be good to her. It is fortunate that it is growing dark. She can see better in the twilight, and is not so easily startled."
The kitten lapped up the milk hungrily, and then came purring about the boy's feet.
"Where may she sleep?" asked the boy, pleased to see that the kitten was not at all afraid of him.
"A low, wide basket half full of shavings will make a soft bed," said
Mrs. Grant. "Over the shavings I will spread a piece of old flannel.
Cats like a warm, cosy bed, and it is always best to keep them in the
house at night."