I was very angry and wanted to fight something, so I pitched into the Spitz dog.  He was a snarly, cross-grained creature, no friend to Jim and me, and he would have been only too glad of a chance to help kill Malta.

I gave him one of the worst beatings he ever had.  I don’t suppose it was quite right for me to do it, for Miss Laura says dogs should never fight; but he had worried Malta before, and he had no business to do it.  She belonged to our family.  Jim and I never worried ‘his’ cat.  I had been longing to give him a shaking for some time, and now I felt for his throat through his thick hair, and dragged him all around the street.  Then I let him go, and he was a civil dog ever afterward.

Malta was very grateful, and licked a little place where the Spitz bit me.  I did not get scolded for the broken window.  Mary had seen me from the kitchen window, and told Mrs. Morris that I had gone to help Malta.

Malta was a very wise cat.  She knew quite well that she must not harm the parrot nor the canaries, and she never tried to catch them, even though she was left alone in the room with them.

I have seen her lying in the sun, blinking sleepily, and listening with great pleasure to Dick’s singing.  Miss Laura even taught her not to hunt the birds outside.

For a long time she had tried to get it into Malta’s head that it was cruel to catch the little sparrows that came about the door, and just after I came, she succeeded in doing so,

Malta was so fond of Miss Laura, that whenever she caught a bird, she came and laid it at her feet.  Miss Laura always picked up the little, dead creature, pitied it and stroked it, and scolded Malta till she crept into a corner.  Then Miss Laura put the bird on a limb of a tree, and Malta watched her attentively from her corner.

One day Miss Laura stood at the window, looking out into the garden.  Malta was lying on the platform, staring at the sparrows that were picking up crumbs from the ground.  She trembled, and half rose every few minutes, as if to go after them.  Then she lay down again.  She was trying very hard not to creep on them.  Presently a neighbor’s cat came stealing along the fence, keeping one eye on Malta and the other on the sparrows.  Malta was so angry!  She sprang up and chased her away, and then came back to the platform, where she lay down again and waited for the sparrows to come back.  For a long time she stayed there, and never once tried to catch them.

Miss Laura was so pleased.  She went to the door, and said, softly, “Come here, Malta.”

The cat put up her tail, and, meowing gently, came into the house.  Miss Laura took her up in her arms, and going down to the kitchen, asked Mary to give her a saucer of her very sweetest milk for the best cat in the United States of America.

Malta got great praise for this, and I never knew of her catching a bird afterward.  She was well fed in the house, and had no need to hurt such harmless creatures.