the male sex that they could not get out of the habit. So they
continually used the masculine pronoun, although the result was
ludicrous. Visitors used to be quite electrified when Rilla referred
casually to "Jack and his kitten," or told Goldie sternly, "Go to your
mother and get him to wash your fur."

"It is not decent, Mrs. Dr. dear," poor Susan would say bitterly. She
herself compromised by always referring to Jack as "it" or "the white
beast," and one heart at least did not ache when "it" was accidentally
poisoned the following winter.

In a year's time "Goldie" became so manifestly an inadequate name for
the orange kitten that Walter, who was just then reading Stevenson's
story, changed it to Dr. Jekyll-and-Mr. Hyde. In his Dr. Jekyll mood the
cat was a drowsy, affectionate, domestic, cushion-loving puss, who liked
petting and gloried in being nursed and patted. Especially did he love
to lie on his back and have his sleek, cream-coloured throat stroked
gently while he purred in somnolent satisfaction. He was a notable
purrer; never had there been an Ingleside cat who purred so constantly
and so ecstatically.

"The only thing I envy a cat is its purr," remarked Dr. Blythe once,
listening to Doc's resonant melody. "It is the most contented sound in
the world."

Doc was very handsome; his every movement was grace; his poses
magnificent. When he folded his long, dusky-ringed tail about his feet
and sat him down on the veranda to gaze steadily into space for long
intervals the Blythes felt that an Egyptian sphinx could not have made a
more fitting Deity of the Portal.