thinking of their country residence. They packed up, closed house and
moved off to their summer home, some fifty miles away, and Pussy, in a
basket, went with them.

"Just what she needed: a change of air and scene to wean her away from
her former owners and make her happy."

The basket was lifted into a Rumble-shaker. New sounds and passing
smells were entered and left. A turn in the course was made. Then a
roaring of many feet, more swinging of the basket; a short pause,
another change of direction, then some clicks, some bangs, a long
shrill whistle, and door-bells of a very big front door; a rumbling, a
whizzing, an unpleasant smell, a hideous smell, a growing horrible,
hateful choking smell, a deadly, griping, poisonous stench, with
roaring that drowned poor Kitty's yowls, and just as it neared the
point where endurance ceased, there was relief. She heard clicks and
clacks. There was light; there was air. Then a man's voice called, "All
out for 125th Street," though of course to Kitty it was a mere human
bellow. The roaring almost ceased--did cease. Later the rackety-bang
was renewed with plenty of sounds and shakes, though not the poisonous
gas; a long, hollow, booming roar with a pleasant dock smell was
quickly passed, and then there was a succession of jolts, roars, jars,
stops, clicks, clacks, smells, jumps, shakes, more smells, more
shakes,--big shakes, little shakes,--gases, smokes, screeches,
door-bells, tremblings, roars, thunders, and some new smells, raps,
taps, heavings, rumblings, and more smells, but all without any of the
feel that the direction is changed. When at last it stopped, the sun
came twinkling through the basket-lid. The Royal Cat was lifted into a
Rumble-shaker of the old familiar style, and, swerving aside from their
past course, very soon the noises of its wheels were grittings and
rattlings; a new and horrible sound was added--the barking of Dogs, big
and little and dreadfully close. The basket was lifted, and Slum Kitty
had reached her country home.

Every one was officiously kind. They wanted to please the Royal Cat,
but somehow none of them did, except, possibly, the big, fat cook that
Kitty discovered on wandering into the kitchen. This unctuous person
smelt more like a slum than anything she had met for months, and the
Royal Analostan was proportionately attracted. The cook, when she
learned that fears were entertained about the Cat staying, said:
"Shure, she'd 'tind to thot; wa