When I went down stairs to see about the tea things, (Mrs. Burgess always left immediately after she had cleared away the dinner,) it was very strange I couldn’t find the milk anywhere, though I saw Mrs. Burgess take it in herself; and when I went to get out the butter, if that wasn’t gone as well--a whole half-pound, as I’m a living woman, of the best fresh, at sixteenpence, that I had sent Mrs. Burgess for that very evening! This put me in a nice state, for I had no more fresh in the house, and could give Edward nothing else but salt with his tea, which I knew he couldn’t bear the taste of; though, even when I went to look after that, I could very easily see that some thief had been fingering it into the bargain. I made up my mind, of course, that it was that wretch of a Tom, and I tried to catch him, so that I might rub his nose on the dresser, but the thief was too quick for me, and I could have given it him well, I could. I thought it best, for the sake of the poor cat, not to say a word to Edward about it; so I made him a round of nice hot toast, and put on it as little salt butter as I possibly could, in the hopes that he wouldn’t discover it. But my husband no sooner put the toast to his mouth, than he declared it was like cart grease; and when I told him about the loss of the milk and fresh butter, he threw it all in my teeth, and I caught it just as I had expected. After which we got to high words again, (drat it,) and I said that I had nothing to do with the bothering milk and butter, and I didn’t see why he should go laying it all on my back in the way he did. What occurred afterwards I will not state; for it is all forgotten, though I cannot say forgiven; for I remember--but never mind, I wont say anything more about it at present. But my distresses about that brute of a Tom were not to rest here, for what between him and my husband, they led me a very pretty dance I declare, and to as nice a tune as I ever heard in all my life. In the morning, when I went down stairs to see about dinner, Mrs. Burgess told me that she couldn’t think what on earth could have come to the remainder of our mutton, for it wasn’t to be found anywhere, and she really believed that rogue of a Tom of hers must have walked off with our leg in the night; adding, that she regretted to say that he had been a dreadful thief ever since he was a kitten. But I told her that it couldn’t be the cat, because he had left no bone behind him. Still, as she very wisely observed, most likely he had buried it in the garden, or somewhere about the house; and so indeed it turned out, for Mrs. Burgess brought me the bone the very next day, picked as clean as if a Christian had done it, and which she said she had found in the coal-cellar early that morning.