Then Mary came back into the room hastily. They have got so into the habit of telling us things that she said to mother as she took me up, 'Cab's at the door!' She carried me down, and I suppose it was Auntie May who took hold of me, for I heard Mr. Graham kiss her several times, and I suppose he wouldn't kiss Mary, though he says she is a very good servant. We went out of the door, for I felt the rush of fresh air against the sides of the basket, and I sniffed, and then I felt so terribly strange that I am ashamed to say I did give one long 'Miau!' as I was carried across the pavement to the cab. I saw nothing, of course, but mother had explained to me all the probable stages of my journey. There began the strangest, weirdest series of noises I had ever heard then, though I have, I am sorry to say, heard them many a time since. Howling, rushing, grating, bumping, rolling, trotting, whistling, screeching, hitting--and spitting, if I may say so. We seemed to be always going up and down stairs. I mewed a few small mews, and Auntie May spoke to me through the walls of the basket and said, 'Hush! hush!' very gently, and I hushed, and only grunted to inform her how I felt. Then at last all was still, except for a curious rushing noise that never stopped. The rocking motion that went with it was very pleasant and soothing, and made one feel quite stupid. Suddenly I felt Auntie May's hand slide into the basket, which I licked and lay down against. I was quite easy in my mind after that, but getting more and more stupefied every minute. Presently she opened the lid of the basket and I sat up and looked about. We seemed to be in a small, plain, unfurnished house, with nothing in it but seats and a hat-rack. A large man, far bigger than Auntie May's little papa, was sitting opposite her and reading a sheet of enormous printed paper. In the other corner was a lacy black woman. When the basket was opened she jumped and frightened me, and Auntie May said, 'Sit still, nervous little cat!' 'Oh, what a darling!' the woman exclaimed. 'May I just touch it?' She did touch me, but Auntie May held my hind paws firmly down in the basket. She needn't have bothered, I don't go to strangers. 'Mightn't he jump out? Aren't you awfully nervous about him?' cackled the black woman. 'Isn't he a sweet colour? He is like that new grey pastel shade they brought out in Paris last year. Teuf-Teuf, they called it--something to do with the automobiles? Why don't you call him Teuf-Teuf? Such a sweet name for a cat!' 'Because somehow he happens to have a name already,' Auntie May said, extra sweetly, because she was so bored by the lady and wanted to read her novel. 'Why doesn't he have a yellow ribbon round his dear neck? A yellow ribbon would look so sweet--so like Velasquez' scheme of colouring!'