Jimmy, Lucy, and All | Page 9

words.
It means boys."
"I understand; oh, yes."

"Well, 'twas a little trouble to me, your not coming when I expected
you; but you may come this afternoon. I'll be ready in ten minutes."
"Yes, madam, thank you."
Edith ran to her mother laughing. "Oh, mamma, she is the queerest
woman! Calls boys boyoes! I must go to see her kitten whether I want
to or not--in just ten minutes! I wish I could take Kyzie with me; would
you dare?"
"Certainly not. Katharine has not been invited. And don't make a long
call, Edith."
"No, mamma, I'll not even sit down. I'll just look at the zebra kitty and
come right away."
Mrs. Dunlee smiled. If there were many pets at Number Five it was not
likely that Edith would hasten away. "Remember, daughter, fifteen
minutes is long enough for a call on an entire stranger. You don't wish
to annoy Mrs. McQuilken; but if you should happen to forget, you'll
hear this little bell tinkle, and that will remind you to leave."
Number Five was a very interesting room, about as full as it could hold
of oddities from various countries, together with four cats, a canary,
and a mocking-bird.
"If you had come this morning you would have seen Mag, that's the
magpie," said Mrs. McQuilken. "She's off now, pretty creature. She
likes to be picking a fuss with the chickens."
The good lady had been knitting, but she dropped her work into the
large pocket of her black apron, and moved up an easy-chair for her
guest. Edith forgot to take it. Her eyes were roving about the room,
attracted by the curiosities, though she dared not ask a single question.
"That nest on the wall looks odd to you, I dare say," said Mrs.
McQuilken. "The twigs are woven together so closely that it looks nice
enough for a lady's work-bag, now doesn't it?"

Edith said she thought it did.
"Well, that's the magpie's nest. She laid seven eggs in it once. I keep it
now for her to sleep in; it's Mag's cot-bed."
Edith's eyes, still roving, espied a handsome kitty asleep on the lounge.
It must be the zebra kitty because of its black and dove-colored stripes.
Most remarkable stripes, so regular and distinct, yet so softly shaded.
The face was black, with whiskers snow-white. How odd! Edith had
never seen white whiskers on a kitten. And then the long, sweeping
black tail!
Mrs. McQuilken watched the little girl's face and no longer doubted her
fondness for kittens.
"I call her Zee for short. Look at that now!" And Mrs. McQuilken
straightened out the tail which was coiled around Zee's back.
"Oh, how beautifully long!" cried Edith.
"Long? I should say so! There was a cat-show at Los Angeles last fall,
and one cat took a prize for a tail not so long as this by three-quarters of
an inch! And Zee only six months old!"
The kitty, wide awake by this time, was holding high revel with a ball
of yarn which the tortoise-shell cat had purloined from her mistress's
basket.
"Dear thing! Oh, isn't she sweet?" said Edith, dropping on her knees
before the graceful creature.
Mrs. McQuilken enjoyed seeing the child go off into small raptures;
Edith was fast winning her heart.
"Does your mother like cats?" she suddenly inquired.
"Not particularly," replied Edith, clapping her hands, as Zee with a
quick dash bore away the ball out of the very paws of the coon cat.
"Mamma thinks cats are cold-hearted," said she, hugging Zee to her

bosom. "She says they don't love anybody."
"I deny it!" exclaimed Mrs. McQuilken, indignantly. "Tell your mother
to make a study of cats and she'll know better."
Edith looked rather frightened. "Yes'm, I'll tell her."
"They have very deep feelings and folks ought to know it. Now, listen,
little girl. I had two maltese kittens once. They were sisters and loved
each other better than any girl sisters you ever saw. One of the kittens
got caught in a trap and we had to kill her. And the other one went
round mewing and couldn't be comforted. She pined away, that kitty
did, and in three days she died. Now I know that for a fact."
"Poor child!" said Edith, much touched. "She wasn't cold-hearted, I'll
tell mamma about that."
"Well, if she doesn't like 'em perhaps it wouldn't do any good; but
while you're about it you might tell her of two tortoise-shell cats I had.
They were sisters too. Whiff had four kittens and Puff had one and lost
it. And the way Whiff comforted Puff! She took her right home into her
own basket and they brought up the four kittens together. Wasn't that
lovely?"
"Oh, wasn't it, though?" said Edith. "Cats have