I have another story from a good authority which is still more in
favor of poor pussy, and puts her upon a par with the most faithful
dog.

During a hard snow storm last winter, a kitten with a broken leg and
almost frozen hopped into the hall door of a gentleman's house in
Brooklyn, New York, and set up a most piteous mewing.

The master of the house ordered the servants to throw the kitten
into the street, when his little daughter, a child eight years of
age, caught up the poor little creature, and begged to be allowed to
keep and nurse it. The father, at first, refused. The child,
however, begged so earnestly that he at last allowed her to keep the
kitten.

The little girl, whom we will call Emma, nursed her pet until it got
quite well. The kitten returned, in full measure, all the love of
her gentle nurse, and was never quite happy away from little Emma.

Some time afterwards, the loving child was taken severely ill, and
was confined to her bed. Kitty had grown into a cat. It was found
impossible to keep her away from the bed of her suffering friend.
The cat would watch at the door when turned out of the room, dart in
again, and mew, and jump upon the bed where little Emma lay. There
Kitty was quiet.

As the child grew more ill, it was impossible to get the cat out of
the room; until, at last, when little Emma was dying, pussy
stretched herself out near the bed, and seemed to be dying too.