The kitten was just the smartest little creature. She soon got big enough to go up to her friend's door, and mew just like her mother, and she cuffed and fought Blackie in a way that proved she would be able to defend herself. Her mother was not so fond of her after she began to show her independence. She tried to keep her in subjection, but found her to be unmanageable. When she went out to parties nights, her mother was very morose over it; and when her first kittens were born, she disowned her altogether. She never would stay in the room with her. The little kittens were all four allowed to live, and were around the kitchen, under people's feet, abused by the children, and Kitty Gray, as the friend called her, was just wild to get them up into her room. But Blackie, their grandmother, drew the line here. She stood on the stairs, and Kittie Gray with her "No Name Series" (as Miss Milly called the kittens) were never allowed up there. Poor Kittie Gray! She could not understand it. She had had such a happy childhood, and now the change was fearful. From a bright, happy cat she became a snappish, nervous creature, all the time in fear for her kittens. Sometimes Blackie did try to save the poor little creatures from the children, but it was of no use. Their mother hated her because she had defended herself from that boy, and they kicked and cuffed her till she was obliged to abandon the wretched little creatures to their fate, and the boy and girl tortured them just as they pleased. Their mother said Blackie was a thief, stealing things to eat all the time, and she hated her. She said, as soon as her kittens were born, she would get rid of her. When the good friend of Blackie heard of it, she talked seriously to the woman. She told her that with her feelings she never ought to keep a cat. She said that Blackie had well paid for her home in keeping them free from rats. She said, "The cat would not steal if you would give her enough to satisfy her hunger." Then she tried superstition as a reason to be kind to her. "She is a black cat," she said, "and they are supposed to have the power of making or injuring your fortunes. There are people who would never dare turn a black cat from their home, and would consider it a mark of good fortune to have one an inmate of their family. If you get rid of Blackie, you will never prosper. At least," she said, "have it done mercifully." It did seem as if poor Blackie knew she was doomed. She never was like herself. Though she would go up to her friend's room and cry to be let in, she was very unhappy, and if any friends came in, she would run and hide, instead of remaining to be noticed as she had before. She was the most wretched cat, and all the petting her friend gave her was no comfort to her. She had a premonition of her fate. Kitty Gray dared not go near her, and it was between two fires that their kind friend lived at this time.