Baby and the Kitten 187 



ened in death, the tiny fingers were still twined in 

 the soft down that grew so luxuriantly upon the 

 gentle body of his little friend. And thus they left 

 them : the child in the embrace of death, the other 

 caressed as by a cherub. Friends through life 

 in death they were unparted. 



There is an empty nursery in the home of my 

 friends, which has remained untenanted for more than 

 a year. The little shoes are placed carefully beside 

 the crib. The dresses that Baby wore and the play- 

 things in which he once delighted are in their place ; 

 but the nursery is still. Did I say the place was 

 empty ? That is a mistake. It is occupied, and 

 almost constantly. The little crib contains a downy 

 bed of cotton, on which for days and nights together 

 Clytie quietly rests. She never complains,' but she 

 seems always sad. Occasionally she will wander 

 about the room, sniffing at the little garments once 

 worn by her friend, and then return to the crib dis- 

 consolate. Twelve long months have passed, but 

 Clytie seldom offers to leave the room, and whenever 

 she does go she always faithfully returns. And when 

 the mother comes as to a shrine and strokes the 



