THE SIAMESE CAT
lifted above the humping gallop of stiff hind-legs, Chao Phya gained the safe reaches of an empty road.
Here, under the lee of silent go-downs, he trotted, with a faint tinkle of silver bells; then gradually slackening his pace, sauntered free and proud as one of his great jungle cousins. The sunset coolness, premonition of congenial night, prompted him to frisk. For pure wantonness, he hopped upon the high threshold of a warehouse, caressed the iron doors in a long, luxurious glide, hopped down again to stretch and wallow slantwise through a patch of packing-straw, then gambolled across the road for a tiger pounce on a dried sirih leaf that stirred along the curb. The whim of neatness seized him next; and sitting doubled upon himself, he had begun to lap his fawn-coloured flanks with a curled, heraldic tongue, when the sudden rush of footsteps set him off again, galloping.
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