She was scolded and had no milk that night, and we never
knew her to catch a bird again.
"O to see her with her kittens! She always hid them in the haymows, and
hunting and finding them brought us no end of excitement and pleasure.
Twice a day, at least, she would come to the house to be fed, and then
how we watched her returning steps, stealing cautiously along the path
and waiting behind stack or door the better to observe her--for pussy
knew perfectly well that we were eager to see her darlings, and enjoyed
misleading and piquing us, we imagined, by taking devious ways. How well
I recall that summer afternoon when, soft-footed and alone, I followed
her to the floor of the barn. Just as she was about to spring to the mow
she espied me, and, turning back, cunningly settled herself as if for a
quiet nap in the sunny open door. Determined not to lose sight of her, I
threw myself upon the fragrant hay; but in the stillness, the faint
sighing of the wind, the far-off ripple of the river, the hazy outline
of the hills, the wheeling swallows overhead, were blended at length in
an indistinct dream, and I slept, oblivious of all. When I woke, pussy
had disappeared, the sun was setting, the cows were coming from the
pastures, and I could only return to the house discomfited. That
particular family of kittens we never saw till a fortnight later, when
the proud mother brought them in one by one, and laid them at my
grandmother's feet.
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