Maltie was very proud of her kitties, and used to take Cuddle and Miss Tittens in her mouth, and carry them into the dining-room when we were eating our breakfast, to show them to us. But Spitfire would not let her mamma carry her. She would walk in all alone, tumbling over on her little nose very often (for her legs were not yet strong), but carrying her little black tail just as straight as little boys carry sticks when they call them guns.
One morning, Teddikins put a saucer of milk on the floor and what do you suppose that little Spitfire did? Why, she looked at it very hard, and then she said, "Sptss," and walked right into the milk, and out the other side of the saucer, with Tittens and Cuddle after her. The floor was covered with the funny white prints of their little paws.
One day a mouse ran across the kitchen; and Cuddle and Tittens were very much frightened; but Spitfire humped up her back, and made her tail very big, and said "Sptss!" very hard, and then cantered off sideways staring at the mouse, and saying, "Sptss!" all the time.
You know how kitties like to go to sleep, all cuddled up together. But Spitfire would not lie down with the others: she always tried to get on top of them.
When the little kitties were quite strong, they used to play a funny sort of game. There was a round foot-stool, covered with carpet, and Spitfire used to sit up on it, and then Cuddle and Miss Tittens would try to climb up the sides. Then Spitfire would say, "Sptss!" and pat them on the heads with her little paws until they rolled down again. Sometimes, when she was busy driving one off, another would get up behind her, and drive her off too; but she always worked hard until she was up again.
Do you not think she was a funny kitty? She always went first, and took the lead, and used to box the ears of Cuddle and Tittens when they did not mind her. Now she is a big black cat, with a red collar around her neck, and she catches rats and mice, and is very good and useful. She only says, "Sptss!" when strange cats come into her yard; but we still call her Spitfire.
E. F.
