“‘Come here to-morrow,’ said she.  ’Walk boldly up the steps and seat yourself in full view of that window.  Look your prettiest—­behave your best.  Assume a pensive expression of countenance, with your eyes uplifted—­so.  If you are driven away, go directly, but return.  Be strong, be brave, be persevering.  Now, my dear, I have done all I can for you, and I wish you good luck,’

“The next morning a little girl living in the brick house, whose name was Winnie Gay, looked out of the dining-room window.

“‘Come quick, mamma!’ she called; ’here’s a cat on our piazza—­a little yellow cat, and she’s looking right up at me.  May I open the door?’

“‘No, indeed!’ said Mrs. Gay; ‘we want no strange cats here.’

“’But she looks hungry, mamma.  She has just opened her mouth at me without making a bit of noise.  Can’t I give her a saucer of milk?’

“’Come away from the window, Winnie, and don’t notice her.  You will only encourage her to come again.  There, pussy, run away home; we can’t have you here.’

“’Now, mamma, you have frightened her.  See how she keeps looking back.  I’m afraid you’ve hurt her feelings.  Dear little pussy!  I wish I might call you back.’

“Furry-Purry was not discouraged at this her first unsuccessful attempt.  The child’s blue eyes beamed a welcome, and the lady’s face was gentle and kind.

“‘If I catch a mouse,’ thought the cat, ’and bring it to them to show what I can do, perhaps I shall gain their favor.’  Then she put away all the fine airs and graces Mrs. Velvetpaw had taught her, and became the sly, supple, watchful creature nature had made her.  By a hole in the granary she crouched and waited with unwearied patience one, two, almost three, hours.  Then she gave a sudden spring, there was one sharp little shriek from the victim, a snap of pussy’s jaws, and her object was accomplished.  She appeared again on the piazza, and, laying a dead mouse on the floor, crouched beside it in an attitude of perfect grace, and looked beseechingly in Mrs. Gay’s face.

“‘Well, you are a pretty creature!’ that lady said, ’with your soft white paws and yellow coat,’

“‘May I have her for my cat, mamma?’ Winnie said.  ’I thought I never should love another cat when dear old Caesar died; but this little thing is such a beauty that I love her already.  May I have her for mine?’

“But while Mrs. Gay hesitated, Furry-Purry, who could not hear what they said, and who, to tell the truth, was in a great hurry to eat her mouse, ran off with it to the barn.  The next morning, however, she came again, and Mr. Gay, who was waiting for his breakfast, was called to the window.

“’My cat has come again, papa, with another mouse—­a monstrous one, too.’

“‘That isn’t a mouse,’ Mr. Gay said, looking at the plump, silver-gray creature Furry-Purry carefully deposited on the piazza-floor.  ’Bless me!  I believe it is that rascal of a mole that’s gnawed my hyacinth and tulip bulbs.  I offered the gardener’s boy two dollars if he would catch the villain.  To whom does that cat belong, Winnie?  She’s worth her weight in gold.’