Black, White and Gray: A Story of Three HomesWalton, Amy
General
Black, White and Gray: A Story of Three Homes
Walton, Amy
Cats -- Juvenile fiction; Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction; Siblings -- Juvenile fiction
All this, however, did not sour its temper in the least, and after the
worst slight or roughest usage it was quite ready to purr and be
pleased. Maisie thought this very nice of it, and she was sure it was
anxious to do well, if it only knew how. It would allow her, with very
few struggles, to dress it in a doll's nightgown and cap, and put it to
sleep in a cradle; which neither of the others would submit to for a
moment. By degrees she became very fond of it, and the more she took
its part and defended it from ill-treatment, the more her affection
increased. It was therefore distressing to remember, as the days went
on, that though the white kitten had a home to look forward to, there
was yet no such prospect for the grey one.
"It's getting dreadfully near the time," she said one morning to Dennis,
who was trying to teach the black kitten to jump through his hands;
"only ten days more, and we haven't got a good home for the grey kitten
yet."
"It's such a common, mean thing," said Dennis, casting a scornful glance
at it. "No one could want to have it."
"It's very affectionate, though," said Maisie, "and it purrs more than
any of them. I believe it might grow pretty when it's older."
"Not it," said Dennis. "Why, there are lots of cats like it in the
village now. Just long, lean, striped things. I don't believe you'd
know it apart from them when it's grown up.--Oh, look, Maisie, look! He
jumped, he really did."
Maisie looked, but the black kitten turned sulky, and refused to do
anything but back away from Dennis's hands with its ears flattened.
"It's quite in a temper," she said. "Now the grey kitten _always_ tries
to do what you tell it."
"Only it's so stupid that it never knows what you want it to do," said
Dennis, as he gave up his efforts and let the kitten scamper back to its
mother.
"Well, at any rate," said Maisie, returning to her subject, "we've got
to find it a home, and we haven't asked every one yet. Who is there
left? Let me see. There's the vicarage, and Dr Price, and, oh Dennis,
perhaps old Sally would like it!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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