"Pore little thing!" shouted the cook indignantly; "p'r'aps ye'd like to make a pet of it. 'Ere, there's Jaimes. Jaimes! Jaimes!" The footman--a tall, pale-faced young man--sauntered in in a state of some incompleteness with regard to costume. "What are you 'ollerin' about?" he inquired. "You might tike and drown this 'ere mouse like a good feller," said the cook. "Mouse," he echoed sarcastically. "Lor' bless us! it might 'a bin a tiger from the row you was makin'." He picked up the trap with a brutal indifference and strolled towards the door. Trembling with excitement, Mammy-ana slipped along the wall after him. He strode down the passage whistling to himself, and, turning the corner, came to a standstill just alongside of a large tin bucket full of water. "Let's see yer swim," he remarked to Squarky-woo, and, lifting the trap, placed his thumb upon the spring. With a prayer in her heart, Mammy-ana leapt forward and struck in with her sharp little teeth upon the calf of his leg, which was only protected by a thin white stocking. With an exclamation of pain he started back, and unconsciously pressed the spring. Up went the flap, and out went Squarky-woo, just missing the bucket by the eighth of an inch. He came down with a terrible bang upon the stone floor, but was up again in an instant, and, before the astonished footman had recovered his composure, both he and Mammy-ana had disappeared down a neighbouring hole. "'Ave you drowned it?" called out the cook. And James, who knew women, pulled himself together and said, "Yes." Upstairs, in Mammy-ana's quiet little retreat, the final and distressing _dénouement_ took place. Squarky-woo crouched in a corner awaiting his destiny. For some time Mammy-ana eyed him in stern silence. Then she flicked her tail and Squarky-woo shivered. "Come here," she said. He made no motion. "Come here," she squeaked, "you--you--wee, slickit, cowering, timorous beastie!" Horrified at her language, Squarky-woo turned to escape, but it was too late. With one bound Mammy-ana was upon him, and catching hold of his ear with her teeth, she lifted up his tail, and beat him with her own. With the Conquering Turkey I had just finished breakfast, and was slowly enjoying an especially fragrant pipe, when my front-door bell rang with some violence. "This is undoubtedly Pitman," I said to myself. It was. He came in stamping the snow off his boots on to my new carpet. "Sit down," I said harshly. He seated himself obediently, and tearing off the front page of the _News and Leader_, which had been left at my house by mistake, I handed it across to him. "Put your feet on that," I said, "if they'll go on, and don't move until they are properly thawed, and whatever you do, don't remark it's seasonable weather." He followed my instructions meekly.