Well do I remember one cold day in winter when we were all gathered in the one little apartment that served us for nursery, dining-room, and sitting-room. Arthur, who had overslept himself, was at his breakfast; mother was feeding baby; and I was looking at my dear Cherry in his cage.
Pots of hyacinths in bloom were on the table; Mr. Punch, Arthur's Christmas present, lay as if watching the cat on baby's pillow in the basket; and Muff, the old cat, with Fair-Star her kitten, were lapping milk from a basin on the floor.
My dear mother had taught Muff to be good to Cherry; and Muff seemed to have overcome her natural propensities so far as to let Cherry even light on her head, and there sing a few notes of a song.
So, on the day I am speaking of, I let Cherry out of his cage; and he flew round, and at last lighted on the kitten's head. At this Muff seemed much pleased; and Fair-Star herself was not disturbed by the liberty the little bird took.
But all at once Muff sprang upon Cherry, and, seizing him in her mouth, jumped up on the bureau. At last it would seem as if the old cat had chosen her time to kill and eat my poor little bird.
No such thing! Our good Muff was all right. A neighbor, who had come to borrow our axe, had left the back-door open; and a hungry old stray cat had suddenly made her appearance. Muff saw that Cherry was in danger, and seized him so that the strange cat should not harm him.
Cherry was not only not hurt, but not frightened. Well do I remember how my mother placed baby on the pillows, drove out the strange cat, and then took up Muff, and petted and praised her till Muff's purr of pleasure was loud as the noise of a spinning-wheel.
After that adventure, Cherry and Muff and Fair-Star were all better friends than ever.
Lucy Korner.