sary permission, and joyfully wrote to Mrs.
Weston, how gladly she would accept the kind invitation.

CHAPTER XIX.

There was an ancient enmity between Jupiter and Bacchus. While the former
was always quiet when Phillis came to see his mistress during her life,
Bacchus never went near him without his displaying symptoms of the greatest
irritation; his back was invariably raised, and his claws spread out ready
for an attack on the slightest provocation. Phillis found it impossible to
induce the cat to remain away from Aunt Peggy's house; he would stand on
the door-step, and make the most appalling noises, fly into the windows,
scratch against the panes, and if any children approached him to try and
coax him away, he would fly at them, sending them off in a disabled
condition. Phillis was obliged to go backward and forward putting him into
the house and letting him out again. This was a good deal of trouble, and
his savage mood continuing, the servants were unwilling to pass him,
declaring he was a good deal worse than Aunt Peggy had ever been. Finally,
a superstitious feeling got among them, that he was connected in some way
with his dead mistress, and a thousand absurd stories were raised in
consequence. Mr. Weston told Bacchus that he was so fierce that he might do
some real mischief, so that he had better be caught and drowned. The
catching was a matter of some moment, but Phillis seduced him into a bag by
putting a piece of meat inside and then dexterously catching up the bag and
drawing the string. It was impossible to hold him in, so Bacchus fastened
the bag to the wheelbarrow, and after a good deal of difficulty, he got him
down to the river under the bridge, and threw him in. He told Phillis when
he got home, that he felt now for the first time as if Aunt Peggy was
really dead, and they all might hope for a little comfort. Twenty-four
hours after, however, just as the moon was rising, Bacchus was taken
completely by surprise, for Jupiter passed him with his back raised, and
proceeded to the door of his old residence, commencing immediately a most
vociferous demand to be admitted.

Bacchus was speechless for some moments, but at last made out to call
Phillis, who came to the door to see what was the trouble. "Look thar,"
said he, "you want to make me b'lieve that aint ole Aunt Peggy's
wraith--ground can't hold her, water can't hold him--why I drowned him
deep--how you 'spose he got out of that bag?"

Ph