hear"; and poor, dirty little Jap marvelled at his own cheek in
sending his Slum Cat into such company.

"Excuse me, madame." The director of the show now appeared,
edging his way through the crowd. "The artist of the'sporting
Element' is here, under orders to sketch the 'pearl of the show'
for immediate use. May I ask you to stand a little aside? That's
it; thank you.

"Oh, Mr. Director, cannot you persuade him to sell that beautiful
creature?"

"Hm, I don't know," was the reply. "I understand he is a man of
ample means and
not at all approachable; but I'11 try, I'll try, madame. He was
quite unwilling to exhibit his treasure at all, so I understand
from his butler. Here, you, keep out of the way," growled the
director, as the shabby little man eagerly pushed between the
artist and the blue-blooded Cat. But the disreputable one wanted
to know where valuable Cats were to be found. He came near enough
to get a glimpse of the cage, and there read a placard which
announced that "The blue ribbon and gold medal of the
Knickerbocker High Society Cat and Pet Show" had been awarded to
the "thoroughbred, pedigreed Royal Analostan, imported and
exhibited by J. Malee, Esq., the well-known fancier. (Not for
sale.)" Jap caught his breath and stared again. Yes, surely;
there, high in a gilded cage, on velvet cushions, with four
policemen for guards, her fur bright black and pale gray, her
bluish eyes slightly closed, was his Slum Kitty, looking the
picture of a Cat bored to death with a lot of fuss that she likes