Sometimes in the days that followed, Sally wished that her desires had not been granted so completely. She loved having her kittens and she was glad they were having a happier kittenhood than her own, that was so sombre and sad. But why had she ever asked for ‘harum-scarum’ kittens, or the ‘liveliest, gayest kittens ever known’? Surely it would have been enough to wish for ‘Kittens’! Sally was not sure that it was ever wise to wish too hard for anything, and yet she liked to watch her children playing so fearlessly, for kind Elvira and dear Miss Harvey let them frisk about the kitchen as they pleased. One day Eben got into one of Elvira’s rubbers that were in the entry. He peered out from this pleasant spot as if to say, ‘See the nice little house I have found, it just fits me.’ Baskets and boxes they appropriated for their own, and on cold nights, after the kitchen fire was out, Sally joined them and they slept warm and comfortable in a pasteboard box just the right size for three. [Illustration] When they ran up Elvira’s back and pulled out her hairpins, or landed on the clock shelf in the kitchen in search of their catnip mice and knocked down a few trifles, Sally said, ‘Children, children, why can’t you be quiet and well-behaved, as your uncle and I were!’ ‘But, mother, you once told us you knocked a candlestick off the study mantelpiece,’ Patty reminded her. ‘That is true,’ said their mother, who was a very fair cat. ‘You said you climbed up Elvira,’ said Eben; ‘that is what put the idea into our heads.’ ‘I never did it but once or twice, not every day. I was a much quieter kitten.’ ‘Because you were half-starved,’ said Patty. ‘Mother, just be a kitten with us. Be young with your children.’ [Illustration] CHAPTER XIX SALLY IS YOUNG WITH HER CHILDREN Before Sally had any kittens she used to wonder at the shiftless way in which the wild tortoise-shell cat who sometimes came about the place dealt with her kittens. Sally knew she would not have the slightest trouble in making her children mind, if she were so fortunate as to have any. But it is one thing to make imaginary children mind and quite another to deal with real ones. She would say in her powerful voice, ‘Come, Patty, come, Eben, be quiet. Come to me. Let Elvira’s sweater alone,’ and the pair would gayly prance about the room with the sweater between them, Eben firmly grasping a sleeve, and Patty the hem. ‘Children, did you hear what I said?’ she would add. ‘Yes, mother,’ said the gay pair, and they went on dancing about the room. Then Sally would raise her voice again, and finally Elvira would stamp her foot and say, ‘Sally, be quiet!’ which was very unfair of Elvira, Sally thought, when she was doing her best to make the kittens mind. ‘I can’t understand why you are not better behaved,’ she said to them.