"
The colonel looked at the man, and then at the articles, with
impatience. Then he got a pitchfork, on the prongs of which he
collected the garments, one by one, and so handed them up to Mr.
Pawkins, who was still minus necktie, socks and boots. Before, however,
he was ready for these, the visitors had retired, leaving him to
complete his toilet in private. Hearing steps again, he hurriedly picked
up his wet clothes and re-ascended the ladder. The colonel had evidently
asked Sylvanus to take the place of Maguffin about the two horses, for
he was the newcomer. Now, Mr. Pawkins bore no malice, but, when jokes
were going, he did not like to be left the chief victim. He had had some
fun out of the boys; now he would have some more. The Yankee could mew
to perfection. He began, and Sylvanus called the strange cat. It would
not come, so he climbed the ladder after it, and had almost reached the
top, when, with vicious cries, the animal flew at him, seized him by the
back of the neck, and drew blood that he could feel trickling down his
back. Tugging ineffectually at the beast, he ran out to the kitchen,
calling upon everybody to take off that mad cat that was killing him.
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