"What's a primmynum?" asked Kitty, forgetting to pick up chips, in her interest.
"It's money; some gets a lot, and some only a dollar, or so."
"I wish I had something nice to show, but I don't own anything but puss," and the little girl stroked the plump, white kitten that was frisking all over her.
"Better send her; she's pretty enough to fetch a prize anywheres," said Sam, who was fond of both Kittys.
"Do they have cats there?" asked the child, soberly.
"Ought to, if they don't, for, if cats aint cattle, I don't see what they be," and old Sam laughed, as if he had made a joke.
"I mean to take her and see the show, any way, for that will be splendid, even if she don't get any money! O, puss, will you go, and behave well, and get a primmynum for me, so I can buy a book of stories?" cried Kitty, upsetting her basket in her sudden skip at the fine plan.
Puss turned a somersault, raced after a chicken,
