The Slum Cat 
man’s Cat, that brought no cash, but got un- 
usual consideration because the meat-man did. 
But there were others. A black Cat with a 
white nose came rushing confidently with the 
rest, only to be repulsed savagely. Alas! Pussy 
did not understand. She had been a pensioner 
of the barrow for months. Why this unkind 
change? It was beyond her comprehension. 
But the meat-man knew. Her mistress had 
stopped payment. The meat-man kept no 
books but his memory, and it never was at fault. 
Outside this patrician ‘four hundred’ about 
the barrow, were other Cats, keeping away from 
the push-cart because they were not on the 
list, the Social Register as it were, yet fascinated 
by the heavenly smell and the faint possibility 
of accidental good luck. Among these hang- 
ers-on was a thin gray Slummer, a homeless 
Cat that lived by her wits—slab-sided and not 
over-clean. One could see at a glance that she 
was doing her duty by a family in some out-of- 
the-way corner. She kept one eye on the bar- 
row circle and the other on the possible Dogs. 
She saw a score of happy Cats slink off with 
their delicious ‘daily’ and their tiger-like air, 
ws 
