ig for their
accommodations, and tails and legs hung out after the family had
retired.

I really did hope they would escape the doom that seemed to pursue my
cats, but they did not, for all came to grief in different ways. Cuddle
Bunch had a fit, and fell out of the window, killing herself instantly.
Othello, her brother, was shot by a bad boy, who fired pistols at all
the cats in the neighborhood, as good practice for future gunning
expeditions.

Little Purr was caught in a trap, set for a woodchuck, and so hurt she
had to be gently chloroformed out of life. Mother Bunch still remained,
and often used to go and sit sadly under the tree where her infants were
buried,--an afflicted, yet resigned parent.

Her health declined, but we never had the heart to send her away, and it
wouldn't have done any good if we had tried. We did it once, and it was
a dead failure. At one time the four cats were so wearing that my
honored father, who did not appreciate the dears, resolved to clear the
house of the whole family; so he packed them in a basket, and carried
them "over the hills and far away," like the "Babes in the Wood." Coming
to a lonely spot, he let them out, and returned home, much relieved in
mind. Judge of his amazement when the first thing he saw was Mrs. Bunch
and her children, sitting on the steps resting after their run home.

We all laughed at the old gentleman so that he left them in peace, and
even when the mamma alone remained, feeble and useless, her bereavement
made her sacred.

When we shut up the house, and went to the city for the winter, we gave
Mother Bunch to the care of a kind neighbor, who promised to guard her
faithfully. Returning in the spring, one of my first questions was,--

"How is old Pussy?"

Great was my anguish when my neighbor told me that she was no more. It
seems the dear thing pined for her old home, and kept returning to it in
spite of age or bad weather.

Several times she was taken back when she ran away, but at last they
were tired of fussing over her, and let her go. A storm came on, and
when they went to see what had become of her, they found her frozen, in
the old sideboard, where I first discovered her with her kits about
her.

As a delicate attention to me, Mrs. Bunch's skin was preserved, and
presented when the tale was told. I kept it some time, but the next
Christmas I made it into muffs for several dolls, who were sent me to
dress; and very nice little muffs the p