of the log, was Peterkin. At the moment we saw him he was gazing
intently into the cat's face, with his nose about four inches from
it, - his hands being thrust into his breeches pockets.

"Cat," said Peterkin, turning his head a little on one side, "I
love you!"

There was a pause, as if Peterkin awaited a reply to this
affectionate declaration but the cat said nothing.

"Do you hear me?" cried Peterkin, sharply. "I love you - I do.
Don't you love me?"

To this touching appeal the cat said "Mew," faintly.

"Ah! that's right. You're a jolly old rascal. Why did you not
speak at once? eh?" and Peterkin put forward his mouth and kissed
the cat on the nose!

"Yes," continued Peterkin, after a pause, "I love you. D'you think
I'd say so if I didn't, you black villain? I love you because I've
got to take care of you, and to look after you, and to think about
you, and to see that you don't die - "

"Mew, me-a-w!" said the cat.

"Very good," continued Peterkin, "quite true, I have no doubt; but
you've no right to interrupt me, sir. Hold your tongue till I have
done speaking. Moreover, cat, I love you because you came to me
the first time you ever saw me, and didn't seem to be afraid, and