Jack shrieked with laughter when he saw her glossy black fur covered with squash. Her nose and whiskers were dotted with it, and even her ears had little yellow decorations. As soon as Aunt Martha could command her voice, she consoled Bridget by telling her she would make a dessert in place of the pies. Then she told Jett she had better go and get into the waste barrel. And a sight she was--a picture in yellow and black. She went away, ashamed,--not, however, without casting a look of fury at Bimbo, who was whispering with a smothered chuckle, "Oh, she's a dear! she's a dear! Oh, oh, Jett! I shall die!" Jett preferred a crooked path. Stealing was her delight, for boldly, in the face of all, she would bring home a chicken she had stolen. No one molested her, for Aunt Martha paid for the chicken, and as Hope said, perhaps Jett thought it was like having a bill at a store. She had a running account at the neighbor's hen-coops, knowing the bill would be paid. The children called her a "grave robber." For once one of the neighbors lost a little bird. Their little boy was very fond of it, and was allowed to bury it in the garden. He folded it up in his little pocket-handkerchief, and put it into the hole he had dug, and covered the earth over it. He put up a little wooden paper-knife over the grave, making a nice tombstone, and the design was very appropriate. The top of the knife was carved with a bush, and a bird was sitting on the branches. The point of the knife was down deep in the earth, and he thought everything secure. Now Jett knew everything going on in the neighborhood. The bird's empty cage had been cleaned, and was standing on a bench outside the kitchen door. Jett had interviewed the cage and tried to get in, but finding the door too small, she had seated herself to think it out, wondering in her mind where the bird had gone. When she heard footsteps, she mounted to her post of observation on the fence; and when she saw the boy bring out the bird and bury it, she was perplexed. A cat never allows a mystery to go unsolved. After it was all over she waited a suitable time, and then she made an investigation. She walked around the monument, she smelt of it, and she clawed it a little. By the time she had satisfied her curiosity it looked like the Leaning Tower of Pisa. That it moved was probably a suggestion to her, for she began scratching the earth; and it soon fell over, leaving a bit of the grave clothing of the poor little bird exposed. This at once was proof positive, and after scratching away the earth she found the mystery.