sat and thought o' so many ways o' killing it on the sly that it
was wunnerful to hear 'im.

George Barstow took fright when he 'eard of them, and the care 'e took o'
that cat was wunnerful to behold. Arf its time it was shut up in the
back bedroom, and the other arf George Barstow was fussing arter it till
that cat got to hate 'im like pison. Instead o' giving up work as he'd
thought to do, 'e told Henery Walker that 'e'd never worked so 'ard in
his life.

"Wot about fresh air and exercise for it?" ses Henery.

"Wot about Joe Clark?" ses George Bar-stow. "I'm tied 'and and foot. I
dursent leave the house for a moment. I ain't been to the _Cauliflower_
since I've 'ad it, and three times I got out o' bed last night to see if
it was safe."

"Mark my words," ses Henery Walker; "if that cat don't 'ave exercise,
you'll lose it.

"I shall lose it if it does 'ave exercise," ses George Barstow, "that I
know."

He sat down thinking arter Henery Walker 'ad gone, and then he 'ad a
little collar and chain made for it, and took it out for a walk. Pretty
nearly every dog in Claybury went with 'em, and the cat was in such a
state o' mind afore they got 'ome he couldn't do anything with it. It
'ad a fit as soon as they got indoors, and George Barstow, who 'ad read
about children's fits in the almanac, gave it a warm bath. It brought it
round immediate, and then it began to tear round the room and up and
downstairs till George Barstow was afraid to go near it.

[Illustration: "He 'ad a little collar and chain made for it, and took it
out for a walk."]

It was so bad that evening, sneezing, that George Barstow sent for Bill
Chambers, who'd got a good name for doctoring animals, and asked 'im to
give it something. Bill said he'd got some powders at 'ome that would
cure it at once, and he went and fetched 'em and mixed one up with a bit
o' butter.

"That's the way to give a cat medicine," he ses; "smear it with the
butter and then it'll lick it off, powder and all."

He was just going to rub it on the cat when George Barstow caught 'old of
'is arm and stopped 'im.

"How do I know it ain't pison?" he ses. "You're a friend o' Joe Clark's,
and for all I know he may ha' paid you to pison it."

"I wouldn't do such a thing," ses Bill. "You ought to know me better
than that."

"All right," ses George Barstow; "you eat it then, and I'll give you two
shillings in stead o' one. You can easy mix some more."

"Not me,"