I was very cross one day when a friend of my mistress brought her baby to see us. It was all dressed in white, with a white astrachan hood with goats' hair fringe, and it looked just like a little poodle. I wanted to lick it all over when Miss Milly said, "Here, Daisy; come and see this dear baby." But its mother cried out, "Oh, don't let that horrid cat touch my baby!" just as if I was a bear or a tiger. I was so insulted I just walked into a corner. But the baby had seen me, and held out its little hand and crowed. I looked away, but my mistress said, "Daisy will not hurt your baby," and she took me in her arms and let the baby put his soft little hand on my ear. It laughed and crowed, while I licked its hand. The mother looked as if she thought I would devour it. When Miss Milly put me down, seeing the mother's uneasiness, the way that innocent little creature yelled, kicked, and beat his mother was dreadful. I fled under the bed, saying to myself, "How glad I am that we are unmarried people, with no children to raise a tempest for nothing." The mother excused him by saying, "He was excited seeing that great cat." I thought, "And the great cat was excited seeing and hearing the Old Adam in that child." I know my mistress was glad to get rid of them, and Miss Eleanor, who is very fond of children, said, "How beautiful that child would have been had it not been for its mother's foolishness." Before I get too stupid or too old, I must tell you a delightful story of one of the witch cats of old Salem and her little mistress, sweet Hope Farley, a little lame girl my mistress knew and loved. After I have had my "forty winks" and my nerves forget that baby, I shall remember it all. XXI JETT The story I am about to tell you has for its chief interest a little lame girl, very sweet and lovely, who died in old Salem many years ago. I think good children are almost as nice as good little kittens. As Jett belonged to this little girl, I must tell you about her, that you may know how devotedly a cat can return affection and kindness. This is the moral of my story, and I tell it to you in the beginning, though I know morals usually come on the end. And then people have got all the interest of the story and they skip the moral. It is better that it should leaven the whole story. Everything about Salem has a fascination for me, and I often think how nice it would be to fly through the air and take a peep at the people beneath me; but then, this pleasure is given only to black cats, and there is no use for any other colored cat to wish for it. Little Hope Farley lived in a big, old-fashioned house, with a lovely garden around it. All the rooms were long and wide, with deep window seats, cushioned, and very comfortable--a nice place for a cat to sleep and enjoy herself.