luck. Among these hangers-on was a thin gray Slummer, a homeless
Cat that lived by her wits--slab-sided and not over-clean. One
could see at a glance that she was doing her duty by a family in
some out-of-the-way corner. She kept one eye on the barrow circle
and the other on the possible Dogs.
She saw a score of happy Cats slink off with their delicious
'daily' and their tiger-like air, but no opening for her, till a
big Tom of her own class sprang on a little pensioner with intent
to rob. The victim dropped the meat to defend herself against the
enemy, and before the 'all-powerful' could intervene, the gray
Slummer saw her chance, seized the prize, and was gone.

She went through the hole in Menzie's side door and over the wall
at the back, then sat down and devoured the lump of liver, licked
her chops, felt absolutely happy, and set out by devious ways to
the rubbish-yard, where, in the bottom of an old cracker-box, her
family was awaiting her. A plaintive mewing reached her ears. She
went at speed and reached the box to see a huge Black Tom-cat
calmly destroying her brood. He was twice as big as she, but she
went at him with all her strength, and he did as most animals
will do when caught wrong-doing, he turned and ran away. Only one
was left, a little thing like its mother, but of more pronounced
color--gray with black spots, and a white touch on nose, ears,
and tail-tip. There can be no question of the mother's grief for
a few days; but that wore off, and all her care was for the
survivor. That benevolence was as far as possible from the
motives of the murderous old Tom there can be no doubt; but he
proved a blessing in deep disguise, for both mother and Kit were
visibly bettered in a short time. The daily quest for food
continued. The meat-man rarely proved a success, but the ash-cans