back's hind legs.

"Well, they might as well," remarked Phil. "Eight kittens are enough.
Mammy Tittleback can't bring up all the kittens in the town, you needn't
think. She's a real old brick of a cat to take these two. I hope the
others will die anyhow."

"O Phil," said Rosy, "couldn't we find some other cat to 'dopt these
two?" Rosy's tender heart ached as hard at the thought of these
motherless little kittens as if they had been a motherless little boy
and girl.

"No," said Phil, "I don't know any other cat round here that's got
kittens."

"But, Phil," persisted Rosy, "isn't there some cat that hasn't got any
kittens that would like some?"

Phil looked at Rosy for a minute without speaking, then he burst out
laughing and said to Johnny, "Come on; what's the use talking?"

Then Rosy looked very much hurt, and ran into the house to ask her Aunt
Mary if she didn't know of any cat that would adopt the two poor little
kittens that Mammy Tittleback wouldn't take.

The next morning, when the children went out to visit their cats, the
two feeble little kittens were dead, so that put an end to all trouble
on that score, and left only thirteen cats for the children to take care
of.

It is wonderful how fast young cats grow. It seemed only a few days
before all eight of these little kittens were big enough to run around,
and a very pretty sight it was to see them following Johnny and Rosy
wherever they went.

Spitfire was Johnny's favorite from the beginning. He was a sharp, spry
fellow, not very good-natured to anybody but Johnny. Rosy was really
afraid of him, even while he was little; but Johnny made him his chief
pet, and told him everything that happened.

Mammy Tittleback had divided her own colors among her kittens very
oddly. "Spitfire" was all yellow and white; "Coaley" was black as a
coal, and that was why he was called "Coaley." "Blacky" was black and
white; "Limbab," white with gray spots; "Gregory Second," gray with
white spots; and "Lily" was as white as snow, for which reason she got
her pretty name. Rosy wanted her called "White Lily," but the boys
thought it too long. Where there were so many cats, they said, none of
the names ought to be more than two syllables long, if you could help
it. "Gregory" had to be called "Gregory Second," because there was
another Gregory already, an old cat over at Grandma Jameson's, and it
was for him that this kitten was named; and "Tottontail" had to be
called "Tot