THE DAILY LIFE OF OUR FAEM. 159 



happened to this special nursery puss last week. She 

 had had left to her one prettily-marked bantling out of 

 the lot born and duly consigned to a watery grave, 

 and of this she was especially proud. Well, one day 

 it was missing, and the poor mother was miserable. 

 The children declared that she had forgotten where 

 she had deposited it. This seemed an extraordinary 

 theory, considering the might of instinct. Anyhow she 

 followed them everywhere in their search about the 

 rooms of the house, the out-buildings, and even 

 through the shrubberies and woodland walks, all to 

 no purpose, mewing piteously the while — whether a 

 note of lamentation, or gratitude, or entreaty, it is 

 impossible to say. At last they appropriated a kitten 

 from a cat at the farm, which with much ceremony 

 they delivered to the nursery puss. She at once took 

 to it, while the robbery or transference was treated 

 with the utmost indifference by the bucolic puss, who 

 trotted about or watched in the stable anl cowsheds 

 for her prey just as unconcernedly as if she felt that 

 all had been done for the best, and that her offspring 

 had been fortunate in its promotion to an upper 

 circle. 



Well, one morning, about light, some days after the 

 kitten's disappearance, I was awoke by a sad cry, as if 

 of an animal in pain, which seemed at one time quite 

 near, at another quite far off. It occurred to me that 

 it might be that old Melon had managed to ensnare 

 a rabbit, of whose inroads he had been complaining 

 lately, and that it was from this unhappy animal 

 the wailing proceeded. I looked out of the window, 

 but failed to detect the victim's whereabouts. Then 

 the agonized cry drew nearer, until at last it was 



