he owner of the kitten, at
the same time advising our hero either to tell Mrs. Walters the truth,
or bring the little animal to his house, as his wife, he said, "had
quite a fancy for four-footed pets."

William, however, could not at once decide to part with his new
acquaintance, since he felt certain that in either case parting must
be the consequence. His indecision, however, was attended with a more
speedy result than he anticipated, and not less painful than sudden.
He had kept the kitten a few days, but in those few days he had
learned to love the little thing dearly. Its graceful gambols amused
him; and whatever might have been the kind of home from which it had
strayed, it certainly showed itself as happy in the boy's rude
garret-room as it could have been anywhere. As every day increased his
attachment for the playful creature, so every day made the duty of
telling Mrs. Walters of its presence or giving it to Mrs. Burton the
harder. He had at length nearly resolved to do the latter, when an
incident occurred which showed him how necessary it was always to be
prompt in the discharge of duty.

One day Mrs. Walters had occasion to search for something in an old
chest which stood in William's room; and the poor kitten, never
dreaming what an enemy was near, crept forth from its hiding-place in
the bed, and began fearlessly to gambol around one who had no kindly
sympathies to awaken. As she looked round to see if she could discover
from whence the intruder came, she espied, in a corner, the old bowl
still half full of milk, and a few crumbs of bread beside it, and was
at once assured that William had brought the cat from some place--thus
outraging her authority and braving her prejudices.

There was but one course for a nature like hers to pursue. She saw no
beauty in the graceful limbs, neither had she any respect for the
mysterious principle of life--that gift which none but the great
Creator can bestow, and cared not how recklessly she destroyed it.
Burning with anger against our hero, she snatched up the unconscious
kitten and descended to the shop, where, finding no one but Taylor and
the object of her present wrath, she poured out a volley of reproaches
with a rapidity which excluded all possibility of being answered.

Both were too much startled to attempt to speak; indeed there was but
little time allowed, for, even during the first ebullition of fury,
she advanced to the open door and flung the unhappy