he move, scarce did she
even draw her breath, for the cat approached within a yard of the spot
where she laid, and----" "Oh! poor Downy! (cried Alfred,) how sorry I
am!--but, mamma, did that wicked cat kill her? do, dear mamma, make
haste and tell me."--"Why, Alfred," said his mother, "you would not
wait for me to tell you whether she was killed or not: I am sure you
could not feel sorry for the death of a _nasty brown mouse_; you hate
mice, they are such little thieves."--Little Alfred blushed at what
his mother said, for he remembered they were his own words, and said
to his mother, "Dear mamma, I think I will never wish for the death of
any thing again, and I am very sorry I had that mouse killed; I will
never kill another mouse, if it was to eat all the cakes you mean to
give me when I am a good boy." Mrs. Clifford not help smiling at her
little boy, but went on.--

[Illustration]

"The cat, as I said before, was close to the clod of earth on which
luckless Downy stood, and when she believed her death certain, she had
the inexpressible joy of finding that her motionless posture had been
the means of saving her from the vigilant eyes of the cat, who passed
on quite unconcerned without taking any notice of her prey. For an
instant Downy could scarce credit her own eyes when she saw her enemy
pass on; but fearing that if puss should return, she should not again
escape so miraculously, she darted away as she hoped unseen, but,
silly little thing! she had better have laid where she was, for the
kitten beheld her as she ran, and sprung upon her. Poor Downy felt her
claws, but exerting all her speed, she flew to the hedge--this
friendly hedge which had so often been her refuge, and darting among
the tangled roots of the hawthorn and ivy, left her pursuers far
behind, and, exhausted with terror and fatigue, remained trembling and
panting till she was half dead. Still she heard the mews of the
disappointed kitten, and the angry purrs of the old cat--who sat
watching about the bank for more than an hour, waiting to seize her if
she ventured forth,[*] but that poor Downy was not in a condition to
do, for her poor back still ached with the bruise the kitten had given
her, and she felt in such a panic, she could not have stirred a step
if she had seen a dozen cats. For two whole days poor little Downy
thought she should have died, and when she was a little better and
began to feel hungry, there was nothing for her to eat but