e." 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'll 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 as little as she understands it.

VII

Jap Malee lingered around that cage, taking in the remarks, for
hours--drinking a draught of glory such as he had never known in life
before and rarely glimpsed in his dreams. But he saw that it would be
wise for him to remain unknown; his "butler" must do all the business.

It was Slum Kitty who made that show a success. Each day her value went
up in her owner's eyes. He did not know what prices had been given for
Cats, and thought that he was touching a record pitch when his "butler"
gave the director authority to sell the Analostan for one hundred
dollars.

This is how it came about that the Slum Cat found herself transferred
from the show to a Fifth Avenue mansion. She evinced a most
unaccountable wildness at first. Her objection to petting, however, was
explained on the ground of her aristocratic dislike of familiarity. Her
retreat from the Lap-dog onto the centre of the dinner-table was
understood to express a deep-rooted though mistaken idea of avoiding a
defiling touch. Her assaults on a