139 



The boys and dogs were after me. I could hear 

 them, but I crossed to another tree on a grapevine 

 and hid in a hollow. 



I could hear them below me, the boys talking 

 and the dogs sniffing round, while I lay there trem- 

 bling, afraid to mew. 



After a while they went away. 



When I was sure they had quite gone, I climbed 

 down and went on my way, though my foot hurt 

 me dreadfully. It got well after a while, but I 

 have limped ever since. 



But that is not where I meant to begin. I meant 

 to begin at the very beginning, when I was a tiny 

 kitten with my eyes not yet open. 



I was born in a barn. My mother was a barn 

 cat, thin and ragged and wild of eye. She was not 

 a pretty cat, though she was a kind enough mother 

 to us. 



There were five of us kittens, and I suppose we 

 were not pretty either ; that is, none of us but 

 Whitey. She was a plump, gentle, soft, little thing. 

 The rest of us were lean and haggard enough, even 

 as kittens. 



We lived in a hollow of hay, high up in the hay- 

 mow. It was a pleasant place, soft and dark, 



