80 Union Square Jim 



this theatre. I remember that little girl in the ballet 

 who looked so sad and friendless when she was 

 behind the scenes, though she smiled like an angel 

 when she was before the lights. I saw her reading 

 lots of little notes, and then stand thinking, thinking. 

 I remember how Jim came and rubbed against her 

 silk-covered ankles, and how she picked him up and 

 began to pet him. I noticed how still he was, and 

 how she held him all the time between the scenes. 

 Once I saw her crying very quietly, and then I saw 

 her bury her face in Jim's soft fur and hold it there 

 until she was called on the stage again. That night, 

 when she came out of the dressing-room with her 

 plain dress and worn cloak, her face looked very 

 determined, and I saw her march up to where Jim 

 stood. She picked him up, and her face grew tender 

 in a minute. She hugged him, and then put him 

 down and ran out of the stage entrance as fast as 

 her feet would carry her. I knew none of them 

 dudes would catch her, and they did n't. One night, 

 just before her engagement was over, she came and 

 said to me : " You do n't know how much I owe 

 this cat." " How so ? " says I. " I can 't explain," 



