spotting of the carpet evidenced her Eastern modes of thought.
The failure of her several attempts to catch Sparrows in the
high-walled back yard was new proof of the royal impotency of her
bringing up; while her frequent wallowings in the garbage-can
were understood to be the manifestation of a little pardonable
high-born eccentricity. She was fed and pampered, shown and
praised; but she was not happy. Kitty was homesick! She clawed at
that blue ribbon round her neck till she got it off; she jumped
against the plate-glass because that seemed the road to outside;
she avoided people and Dogs because they had always proved
hostile and cruel; and she would sit and gaze on the roofs and
back yards at the other side of the window, wishing she could be
among them for a change.

But she was strictly watched, was never allowed outside--so that
all the happy garbage-can moments occurred while these
receptacles of joy were indoors. One night in March, however, as
they were set out a-row for the early scavenger, the Royal
Analostan saw her chance, slipped out of the door, and was lost
to view.

Of course there was a grand stir; but Pussy neither knew nor
cared anything about that--her one thought was to go home. It may
have been chance that took her back in the direction of Gramercy
Grange Hill, but she did arrive there after sundry small
adventures. And now what? She was not at home, and she had cut
off her living. She was beginning to be hungry, and yet she had a
peculiar sense of happiness. She cowered in a front garden for
some time. A raw east wind had been rising, and now it came to
her with a particularly friendly message; man would have called