“The morning of his return he had the cat in his lap petting and caressing her as usual, and then went out for an hour.  As soon as he was gone, pussy brought her kittens one by one from their hiding-place and laid them on the rug in the corner of the room where she had nursed and tended all her young families before.  Now she must have reasoned in this way:  ’My good, kind master has come home, and those dreadful boys who have pinched my ears and tied things to my tail, and teased and frightened me almost to death, will be made to behave themselves.  All danger to me and to my babies is over.  Why must the pretty dears be hidden away in that musty place?  Of course master wants to see them, and they are well worth looking at.  The thing for me to do is to bring them out of that dark hole and put them where I always have put my kittens before.’”

“Wise old Miess!” said Mollie.  “Mamma, please tell the girls how she saved uncle’s pet canary from a strange cat.”

“Yes, dear.  Miess was so obedient and well trained that her master often trusted her in the room while he gave the bird his airing, and Bobby became so accustomed to the cat’s presence that he hopped fearlessly about the floor close to pussy’s rug, and more than once lighted on her back; but one day your uncle discovered Miess on the table with the bird in her mouth.  For an instant he thought her cat nature had got the upper hand, and that Bobby’s last moment had come; then he discovered a strange cat in the room and knew that his good cat had saved the canary’s life.  As soon as the intruder was driven out, Bobby fluttered away safe and sound.”

“Wasn’t that nice of Miess, Auntie?” said Susie.  “I have thought of a story for you to tell us this afternoon—­the story of the barn-cat that wanted so much to become a house-cat.  Don’t you remember that story you used to tell us long ago?”

“Oh, yes!” Mollie said; “her name was Furry-Purry, and she lived with Granny Barebones, and there was Tom—­Tom—­some thing; what was his name?  Tell us that, Aunt Ruth, do!”

“Isn’t it open to the objection you made to Mollie’s choice a while ago, Susie?” she asked.  “I remember it went with ‘The Three Bears’ and ’Old Mother Pig’ and ‘The Little Red Hen.’”

“No, Auntie, I think not; it’s different, somehow.”

“Very well, then, if you are sure you haven’t outgrown it.”

“Is it a true story?” Nellie Dimock wanted to know.

“It is made out of a true story, Nellie.  A young cat which was born and brought up in a barn became dissatisfied with her condition in life, and made up her mind to change it.  She chose the house of a friend of mine for her future home, and presented herself every morning at the door, asking in a very earnest and humble way to be taken in.  When driven away she went sadly and reluctantly, but in a few moments was back again waiting patiently, quietly, hour after hour, day after day.  If noticed or spoken to, she gave a plaintive mew, looked cold and hungry, but showed no signs of discouragement.  She didn’t once try to steal into the house, as she might have done, but waited patiently for an invitation.