‘Mother, dear, didn’t you want us to have a lively, happy kittenhood, different from yours?’ Patty asked, as she dropped the sweater and put a paw around her mother’s neck. Then Patty leaped upon the table and gave a flying jump into the sink, where Elvira had put some water in a pan. Eben quickly followed her. ‘We are waiting for Miss Winifred to come out,’ said Patty. ‘We like her lap for naps, it is so woolly and she’s so kind.’ ‘Kind!’ said Sally. ‘She thought of sending you to the Ellen Gifford Home. Perhaps she will yet.’ ‘I am sure she hasn’t any idea of it, mother,’ said Patty. ‘Once Miss Winifred gets fond of you, she’s all right. She’s a dear. Her lap is a lot woollier than Elvira’s.’ Presently Miss Winifred came into the kitchen, moving slowly in her near-sighted way, so as not to step on a kitten. Patty darted past her as if to dare her to step on her tail. Miss Winifred seated herself in the big rocking-chair, ready to discuss the meals. Presently Patty ran up her skirt and settled down in her lap. Eben then appeared, getting up very slowly with more than one fall, but arriving at last. He always liked everything Patty had, so he moved her to the other side of Miss Winifred’s lap and slipped into her place. Sally came over and sat on the arm of Miss Winifred’s chair, for she still felt a little uneasy about the Ellen Gifford Home. ‘These kittens are perfectly fascinating,’ said Miss Winifred. ‘Did you hear that, mother?’ said Eben. ‘She knows how to make pretty speeches,’ said Sally. ‘I like pretty speeches,’ said Eben. ‘I wish you’d make a few, mother.’ ‘If you’ll come into the basket to take your nap, I’ll sing the song that your great-great-grandmother composed. The Martha Furbush for whom you are named, Patty.’ Out of curiosity to hear the song, the kittens scrambled down from Miss Winifred’s lap and joined their mother in the basket. She gently purred: Purr, darlings, purr, While mother is washing your fur. In all the great nation There’s no occupation That’s half so sweet to her. Purr, darlings, purr. Patty grew restless while the song was going on, and she skipped out of the clothes-basket. ‘My darling, don’t you think it a sweet song?’ ‘I think it is a lot more interesting hearing Elvira reading the paper aloud to Miss Winifred, than to listen to you singing,’ said Patty. ‘When you have children of your own, Patty, you will appreciate how every mother feels.’ ‘I just love to hear about the cat that came all forlorn and full of burrs to the lady who took him in and made a home for him,’ Patty went on. ‘I’d love to get out and be stuck full of burrs, mother.’ ‘There was a verse in the Cradle Song about hissing,’ Sally said. ‘Oh, try to remember it, mother,’ they begged. ‘I’m sorry, but I’ve forgotten it.’