The night was spent chiefly in prowling about and learning the
main lines of the iron-yard. The next day she passed as before,
sleeping in the sun. Thus the time wore on. Sometimes she found a
good meal at the garbage-box, sometimes there was nothing. Once
she found the big Black Tom there, but discreetly withdrew before
he saw her. The water-bucket was usually at its place, or,
failing that, there were some muddy little pools on the stone
below. But the garbage-box was very unreliable. Once it left her
for three days without food. She searched along the high fence,
and seeing a small hole, crawled through that and found herself
in the open street. This was a new world, but before she had
ventured far, there was a noisy, rumbling rush--a large Dog came
bounding, and Kitty had barely time to run back into the hole in
the fence. She was dreadfully hungry, and glad to find some old
potato-peelings, which gave a little respite from the
hunger-pang. In the morning she did not sleep, but prowled for
food. Some Sparrows chirruped in the yard. They were often there,
but now they were viewed with new eyes. The steady pressure of
hunger had roused the wild hunter in the Kitten; those Sparrows
were game--were food. She crouched instinctively and stalked from
cover to cover, but the chirpers were alert and flew in time. Not
once, but many times, she tried without result except to confirm
the Sparrows in the list of things to be eaten if obtainable.

On the fifth day of ill luck the Slum Kitty ventured forth into
the street, desperately bent on finding food. When far from the
haven hole some small boys opened fire at her with pieces of
brick. She ran in fear. A Dog joined in the chase, and Kitty's
position grew perilous; but an old-fashioned iron fence round a