264 
THE LADIES' FLORAL CABINET. 
“It’S not cold enough for that, child. And, besides, 
why didn’t you ask Nora to get your own little muff? 
What in the world is that thing ? ” 
“ Why, it’s grandmamma’s muff. I saw you put it 
in a big box in the cedar closet ever so long ago, and I 
went and got it this morning.” 
Mrs. Blatchley took her foot off the carriage step, and 
turned round. “ Nora ! ” she called. 
But Nora had gone away, and Polly cried pleadingly: 
“Oh, no, no, mamma; let me keep this; I like it a 
great deal better.” 
“What matter, Sallie?” said her husband as Mrs. 
Blatchley hesitated. “The child can leave it in the 
carriage if you don’t want her to take it into church. 
It is better not to wait now; I’m afraid we shall be late.” 
So Mrs. Blatchley got into the carriage. 
Polly was very still during that drive. She didn’t 
twist herself about as usual to try to see both sides of 
the road at once. She did not even talk. Her mamma 
smiled, and said the muff overwhelmed her. 
When they reached the church the great bell in the 
steeple was giving out its last peals. Mrs. Blatchley 
alighted hurriedly and walked in at the great door. 
Mr. Blatchley saw Polly demurely following with her 
arms buried in the big muff. He did not stop her. 
What harm could her childish fancy do ? Besides, he 
was a man fond of a joke, and he enjoyed his wife’s 
unconscious air as this droll little figure walked on be¬ 
hind her. But the immense, old-fashioned muff was 
not the only reason why people turned their heads and 
smiled as she passed up the aisle. There was something 
about the muff even funnier than itself, for pushing out 
at one end appeared a little head of fur, with bright, 
round eyes, eyes that moved, as the children saw, and 
pointed, pink-lined ears that moved, too, as Polly’s arm 
pressed hard against the alert little nose. 
The child’s face was very red as she slipped into her 
pew. “May I sit up in the corner, mamma?” she 
whispered. 
Mrs. Blatchley’s eyes, too, fell on this head peeping 
out of the muff. * 
“Polly!” she whispered, so severely that the child, 
who was already a good deal frightened, actually 
started. But her only answer was to seat herself as 
quickly as possible, and, so far as she was able, stop up 
the ends of the muff with her little hands. All was’ 
quiet within, and soon she heard a soft purring sound 
as she bent her head. 
“ It’s all right, mamma,” she whispered, “ I’ll answer 
for her.” 
The lady said nothing. She had been speaking to her 
husband, and Mr. Blatchley’s face had its broadest 
smile, though as he saw Polly’s eyes upon him, he 
became suddenly grave. 
When the congregation stood up to sing, Mrs. Blatch¬ 
ley motioned Polly not to rise. But singing was the 
part of the service Polly liked best of all, and she was 
sure there would be no trouble. Up she jumped, and 
peeped over her mamma’s shoulder, to look at the hymn. 
Up jumped something else, too, in the depths of the 
muff, and began to stir. 
“ Sh-sh-sh ! ” whispered Polly soothingly. 
All was still; and the child’s sweet little treble joined 
in the hymn. One, two verses she sang, then, suddenly 
sat down, for the motion within the muff was becoming 
very decided. Before the congregation had finished 
the third verse, the movement had become a commo¬ 
tion, and the child, with a red and anxious face, was 
trying to check her prisoner’s attempts to escape. 
The singing was over at last, and there was a pause, 
in which the faintest sound could be heard. It was 
then that there came a distinct, angry mew. 
Poor Polly hid her face as much as possible. It 
seemed to her that everybody, near and far, was frown¬ 
ing, and looking straight through the muff to the kitten 
that was so tired of her close quarters. She grasped 
the prisoner still more firmly. The result was another, 
louder mew. 
Her mother turned to her: 
“ Take that kitten away, directly,” she commanded 
sternly, “ and walk about outside until we come.” 
At any time Polly would not have liked to go down 
the long aisle during service, but, now, when ■ she had 
that great muff she began to hate the straggling kitten 
inside of it, with first her head and then her tail at its 
opposite ends, and when all the people were looking at 
her, it was dreadful. But she got up. She could not 
hold the ends of the muff quite so well standing; kitty 
took advantage of this in a moment, and was on the 
floor beside her little mistress. ' Mrs. Blatchley stooped 
quietly; but kitty slipped past her. The next moment 
Mr. Blatchley made the same attempt, and succeeded 
in touching kitty’s tail as she slipped along to the en¬ 
trance of the pew. Polly glided after, hoping to clutch 
her favorite. 
But kitty was a sprite sometimes. When she didn’t 
want to be caught nobody could catch her. All ready 
for a frolic, she cocked her head and watched the child 
coming up to her. Polly moved very cautiously; she 
was determined to get hold of kitty. The little creature 
stood still as if to let her do it. Polly bent down, her 
hand touched the little furry back; it was all right 
now. 
Was it, though? 
In an instant kitty whisked off into the broad aisle. 
Then, seeing her playmate didn’t follow, she arched her 
back, waved her tail like a plume, and in the drollest 
way pranced almost up to her again. 
Poor Polly! She tried a second time to seize this 
pet who was coaxing to be played with. Kitty ran. 
farther up the aisle, looking back in a way that showed 
it was quite useless to follow. Polly’s mother signed to 
her to take her seat. 
Investigating Committee was proving herself worthy 
of her name. She walked up and down the aisle exam¬ 
ining the different pews, and sometimes darting into 
one in a way that set Polly, who was responsible for it 
all, in an agony. One lady was sitting alone listening 
attentively to the minister. She moved her arm, and 
kitty made a dart at the swinging fringe of her shawl, 
and sprang into her lap. Polly longed to call out 
“ Catch her,” but before the astonished lady could move, 
kitty was off again. 
The sexton tiptoed along, hoping to catch the little 
intruder, but she frisked away a good deal faster than 
he could tiptoe, and all the children enjoyed the fun so 
much, to say nothing of the grown people, that he soon 
gave up trying. 
After a while the kitten was seen walking slowly up 
the pulpit stairs. 
Poor little Polly’s face grew crimson, and she began, 
to cry quietly. 
