er dinner we set about making the oars in good
earnest. Jack went into the woods and blocked them roughly out with the
axe, and I smoothed them down with the knife, while Peterkin remained in
the bower spinning, or rather twisting, some strong, thick cordage with
which to fasten them to the boat.

We worked hard and rapidly, so that when the sun went down Jack and I
returned to the bower with four stout oars, which required little to be
done to them save a slight degree of polishing with the knife. As we
drew near we were suddenly arrested by the sound of a voice. We were
not a little surprised at this--indeed, I may almost say alarmed; for
although Peterkin was undoubtedly fond of talking, we had never, up to
this time, found him talking to himself. We listened intently, and
still heard the sound of a voice as if in conversation. Jack motioned
me to be silent, and advancing to the bower on tiptoe, we peeped in.

The sight that met our gaze was certainly not a little amusing. On the
top of a log which we sometimes used as a table sat the black cat with a
very demure expression on its countenance, and in front of it, sitting
on the ground with his legs extended on either side of the log, was
Peterkin. At the moment we saw him he was gazing intently into the
cat's face, with his nose about four inches from it, his hands being
thrust into his breeches pockets.

"Cat," said Peterkin, turning his head a little on one side, "I love
you!"

There was a pause, as if Peterkin awaited a reply to this affectionate
declaration. But the cat said nothing.

"Do you hear me?" cried Peterkin sharply. "I love you--I do! Don't you
love me?"

To this touching appeal the cat said "mew" faintly.

"Ah, that's right! You're a jolly old rascal! Why did you not speak at
once, eh?" and Peterkin put forward his mouth and kissed the cat on the
nose!

"Yes," continued Peterkin after a pause, "I love you. D'you think I'd
say so if I didn't, you black villain? I love you because I've got to
take care of you, and to look after you, and to think about you, and to
see that you don't die--"

"Mew, me-a-w!" said the cat.

"Very good," continued Peterkin; "quite true, I have no doubt. But
you've no right to interrupt me, sir. Hold your tongue till I have done
speaking. Moreover, cat, I love you because you came to me the first
time you ever saw me, and didn't seem to be afraid, and appeared to be
fond of me, though you didn't kn