door for a well-dressed man to come out, and both saw the Cat
with her prize.

"Hello! Look at that for a Cat!"

"Yes, sah," answered the negro. "Dat's ma Cat, sah; she's a
terror on Rats, sah! hez 'em about cleaned up, sah; dat's why
she's so thin."

"Well, don't let her starve," said the man with the air of the
landlord. "Can't you feed her?

"De liver meat-man comes reg'lar, sah; quatah dollar a week,
sah," said the negro, fully realizing that he was entitled to the
extra fifteen cents for "the idea."

"That's all right. I'll stand it."


XII

"M-e-a-t! M-e-a-t!" is heard the magnetic, cat-conjuring cry of
the old liver-man, as his barrow is pushed up the glorified
Scrimper's Alley, and Cats come crowding, as of yore, to receive
their due.

There are Cats black, white, yellow, and gray to be remembered,
and, above all, there are owners to be remembered. As the barrow
rounds the corner near the new building it makes a newly
scheduled stop.