The Slum Cat 
her one thought was to go home. It may 
have been chance that took her back in the 
direction of Gramercy Grange Hill, but she 
did arrive there after sundry small adventures. 
And now what? She was not at home, and she 
had cut off her living. She was beginning to be 
hungry, and yet she had a peculiar sense of 
happiness. She cowered in a front garden for 
some time. A raw east wind had been rising, 
and now it came to her with a particularly 
friendly message; man would have called it an 
unpleasant smell of the docks, but to Pussy it 
was welcome tidings from home. She trotted 
down the long street due east, threading the 
rails of front gardens, stopping like a statue for 
an instant, or crossing the street in search of the 
darkest side, and came at length to the docks 
and to the water. But the place was strange. 
She could go north or south. Something turned 
her southward ; and, dodging among docks and 
Dogs, carts and Cats, crooked arms of the bay 
and straight board fences, she got, in an hour 
or two, among familiar scenes and smells; and, 
before the sun came up, she had crawled back 
weary and foot-sore through the same old hole 
47 
(fee Tete 
