But the sight which actually greeted her made her drop into a chair and laugh. And Gilbert! He threw up his cap, almost shouting. "That's great, isn't it, mother? Wasn't it cute of Billikens to light up for us to get in?"
Now Billikens was a beautiful white Persian kitten, which had come to Gilbert on his last birthday, and as full of mischief as a kitten could be. Billikens sat perched on the back of an easy-chair under one of the lights, looking for all the world as if he tried to say, "I did it, for sure."
It was this way: Gilbert had often held Billikens up to play with the electric light cords, and once when the kitten had pulled just right, the light flashed out. Afterward, it became a kind of game to take him round to the brackets, and let him light up.
"I'm afraid we'll have to stop his doing it," Gilbert's mother said. "I doubt if you can teach a cat that what is done in play mustn't be done in earnest."
"That's too bad," Gilbert was quite grieved. "It's such fun to see him put on the lights. He almost laughs, himself. We could shut him up if we were away, mother dear."
"Well, perhaps."
Gilbert was a thoughtful little chap. Now he said, "I learned, didn't I, mother? Grandfather liked to have me pull his whiskers when he was awake, but once I pulled them when he was taking a nap, and he didn't like it one bit. I never did it after that."
