184 Baby and the Kitten 



he added his vigorous voice to the general uproar. 

 No burglar-alarm ever invented could equal, for a 

 moment, the call to arms these two youthful voices 

 produced. And the burglar realized it. He saw- 

 that all hopes of plunder were over, and that flight 

 was his only salvation. It is pleasant to be able to 

 add that his attempt was unsuccessful, and that he 

 was captured and has since had an opportunity, in a 

 felon's cell, of philosophizing upon the antipathy 

 which one particular cat seemed to have for him. 

 It was a summer day, hot, dusty, oppressive. 

 Baby had been playing with Clyde, but seemed to 

 grow weary, and finally turned his head away and 

 laid his flushed cheek down upon the pillow. Clytie 

 could not understand this unusual conduct, and so 

 curled her white bundle of fur up cosily beside him. 

 But the little child was restless, and turned uneasily 

 from side to side. Clytie stood up and looked at 

 Baby wonderingly. What could it all mean ? And 

 then Baby began to cry, not loudly or peevishly, but 

 very quietly, and with a plaintive tone. The crying 

 continued at intervals, ending each time in a sad little 

 moan. Poor Baby ! where is nurse ? and does she 



