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LETTERS FROM A CAT.
75
"Here you, Mary, you go up into the garret and bring down the cradle."
Sick as I was, I could not help laughing at the sight of her face. It was enough to make any cat laugh.
"You don't ever mean to say, sir, as you're going to put that cat into the cradle."
"You do as I tell you," said he, in that most awful tone of his, which always makes you so afraid. I felt afraid myself, though all the time he was stroking my head, and saying, "Poor pussy, there, poor pussy, lie still." In a few minutes Mary
