girl.' Now her mother, my great-grandmother, was a distinguished
personage in my eyes, having been the daughter of Captain Jonathan
Prescott who commanded a company under Sir William Pepperell at the
siege of Louisburg and lost his life there; and I could not question the
wisdom of colonial times. Indeed, to this hour I have a lingering belief
that cats can foretell the weather.

"And what a mouser she was! Before her time we often heard the rats and
mice in the walls, but with her presence not one dared to peep, and
cupboard and pantry were unmolested. Now and then she carried her forays
to hedge and orchard, and I remember one sad summer twilight that saw
her bring in a slender brown bird which my grandmother said was the
cuckoo we had delighted to hear in the still mornings among the alders
by the river. She was scolded and had no milk that night, and we never
knew her to catch a bird again.

"O to see her with her kittens! She always hid them in the haymows, and
hunting and finding them brought us no end of excitement and pleasure.
Twice a day, at least, she would come to the house to be fed, and then
how we watched her returning steps, stealing cautiously along the path
and waiting behind stack or door the better to observe her--for pussy
knew perfectly well that we were eager to see her darlings, and enjoyed
misleading and piquing us, we imagined, by taking devious ways. How well
I recall that summer afternoon when, soft-footed and alone, I followed
her to the floor of the barn. Just as she was about to spring to the mow
she espied me, and, turning back, cunningly settled herself as if for a
quiet nap in the sunny open door. Determined not to lose sight of her, I
threw myself upon the fragrant hay; but in the stillness, the faint
sighing of the wind, the far-off ripple of the river, the hazy outline
of the hills, the wheeling swallows overhead, were blended at length in