And Monsieur Malberg, whose brow had darkened, relapsed into profound meditation. Meanwhile, his servant Pongo had a sharp altercation with the cat which he had named Carabi, and which, in payment for the hospitality that had been bestowed upon him, had savagely clawed his benefactor. “Ah! you naughty, Carabi,” said the mulatto, holding the cat by his two forepaws; “you hurt me, when me pick you up in the street; and you not handsome either; but thin, ugly, little short hair; you a gutter cat, you hear? You no angora, you gutter cat! and me take care of you, comb you and rub you, make nice porridge for you, so’s to make you pretty and fat; and you claw me on the nose when me try to talk with you, like two friends. You take care, Carabi! if me take Mamzelle Zima to beat you, Mamzelle Zima, she mind me right off, and she strike hard, Mamzelle Zima; will you be good boy now?” The cat’s only reply was to howl in a piteous fashion; and he was beginning to vary his cries with snarls which boded no good to Pongo, when Georget returned and interrupted the conversation. “Ah! little neighbor again! He want to speak to master or me?” “I have come to bring your master my mother’s reply. He is very good----” “Oh, no! he not good; but me beat him, me whip him if he claw again!” “I am speaking of your master.” “Oh! me tink it was my new friend Carabi; he claw my nose. Come, you go in right away.--Little gutter cat! you wait there till me come back. Don’t stir, or me take Zima!” When he reappeared before Monsieur Malberg, Georget was sad, and seemed embarrassed; he kept his eyes on the floor, and dared not speak. “Well, Georget, you have come to bring me your mother’s answer,” said Monsieur Malberg; “but to look at you one would think that you dared not tell me what it is.” “Ah! monsieur, you see----” “Mon Dieu! I will spare you the trouble of telling me, for I will wager that I can guess what your mother answered: she refused my offer, because she would have to part with you, and she prefers to live in poverty and not leave her son; isn’t that it?”