picked Harold as the prize of the afternoon.
Harold's mouth opened twice before it emitted a word. Then the words came squeakily and haltingly, "Fellow students of Tate, I am here—here—yes, I am here—here—" Harold stopped. His face was suffused with red. The kitten, grown restless under his heavy sweater, was clawing into him, tearing his shirt, pricking his flesh. And more complications were on their way. For with stately tread a large, sleek cat came waddling out from the direction of the wings. The mother cat had come in search of her wandering kitten.
The feline paused at Harold's feet. Then a small tail protruding under Harold's sweater caught her sharp green eyes. She stopped, looked up and meowed. She started to climb the Freshman's leg, but he pushed her away. Then there were convulsive movements under the white sweater, clawings and scratchings that caused the would-be orator to wince and dance about on his feet. Then, with a final effort, the kitten reached open air at the neck of Harold's sweater and emerged upon his shoulder. With relief he seized the furry bundle gently and set the kitten upon the floor. Mother cat and offspring scampered off the stage and into the wings together.
