A Boyhood in Scotland 



to put him out of pain," the savage in us rap- 

 idly growing with indulgence. All took heartily 

 to this sort of cat mercy and began throwing 

 the heaviest stones we could manage, but that 

 old fellow knew what characters we were, and 

 just as we imagined him mercifully dead he 

 evidently thought the play was becoming too 

 serious and that it was time to retreat; for 

 suddenly with a wild whirr and gurr of energy 

 he launched himself over our heads, rushed 

 across the yard in a blur of speed, climbed to 

 the roof of another building and over the 

 garden wall, out of pain and bad company, 

 with all his lives wideawake and in good work- 

 ing order. 



After we had thus learned that Tom had at 

 least nine lives, we tried to verify the common 

 saying that no matter how far cats fell they 

 always landed on their feet unhurt. We caught 

 one in our back yard, not Tom but a smaller 

 one of manageable size, and somehow got him 

 smuggled up to the top story of the house. I 

 don't know how in the world we managed to 

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