a good noime, ye kneow. Ye see now it had orter be 'Royal'
somethink or other--nothink goes with the Knickerbockers like
'Royal' anythink. Now 'Royal Dick,' or 'Royal Sam,' 'ow's that?
But 'owld on; them's Tom names. Oi say, Sammy, wot's the noime of
that island where ye wuz born?"

"Analostan Island, sah, was my native vicinity, sah."

"Oi say, now, that's good, ye kneow. 'Royal Analostan,' by Jove!
The onliest pedigreed 'Royal Analostan' in the 'ole sheow, ye
kneow. Ain't that foine?" and they mingled their cackles.

"But we'll 'ave to 'ave a pedigree, ye kneow." So a very long
fake pedigree on the recognized lines was prepared. One dark
afternoon Sam, in a borrowed silk hat, delivered the Cat and the
pedigree at the show door. The darkey did the honors. He had been
a Sixth Avenue barber, and he could put on more pomp and lofty
hauteur in five minutes than Jap Malee could have displayed in a
lifetime, and this, doubtless, was one reason for the respectful
reception awarded the Royal Analostan at the Cat Show.

Jap was very proud to be an exhibitor; but he had all a Cockney's
reverence for the upper class, and when on the opening day he
went to the door, he was overpowered to see the array of
carriages and silk hats. The gate-man looked at him sharply, but
passed him on his ticket, doubtless taking him for stable-boy to
some exhibitor. The hall had velvet carpets before the long rows
of cages. Jap, in his small cunning, was sneaking down the side
rows, glancing at the Cats of all kinds, noting the blue ribbons
and the reds, peering about but not daring to ask for his own