she's sho hungry."

Hungry! She hadn't had a real meal for months. The negro went
into the building and reappeared with a portion of his own lunch.

"Hyar, Pussy, Puss, Puss, Puss!" It seemed very good, but Pussy
had her doubts of the man. At length he laid the meat on the
pavement, and went back to the door. Slum Kitty came forward very
warily; sniffed at the meat, seized it, and fled like a little
Tigress to eat her prize in peace.


LIFE IV

XI

This was the beginning of a new era. Pussy came to the door of
the building now whenever pinched by hunger, and the good feeling
for the negro grew. She had never understood that man before. He
had always seemed hostile. Now he was her friend, the only one
she had.

One week she had a streak of luck. Seven good meals on seven
successive days; and right on the top of the last meal she found
a juicy dead Rat, the genuine thing, a perfect windfall. She had
never killed a full-grown Rat in all her lives, but seized the
prize and ran off to hide it for future use. She was crossing the
street in front of the new building when an old enemy appeared,
--the Wharf Dog,--and Kitty retreated, naturally enough, to the
door where she had a friend. Just as she neared it, he opened the