he knew that my people belonged to the "four hundred," so he finally
condescended to notice me and asked me a few questions concerning my
pedigree. I told him that my ancestors came over in the Mayflower, for was
not Carver a name of which to be proud? He said that he belonged to the
English aristocracy, but soon discovered that my education was better than
his, for he had learned his letters only from playing around on the
nursery floor and seeing them on blocks. His lessons of life had been
acquired from a Mother Goose book when the children babbled, "Hi diddle,
diddle, the cat and the fiddle, the cow jumped over the moon," or some
other such silly jumble of nonsense. He put on a great many airs, but knew
nothing. I had acquired a little style myself, and finding he knew so
little, took the upper hand and patronized him shamefully. If he had
remembered my picking him out a choice bone from a garbage box and his
dignified refusal, all would have been lost, but he didn't.

My looks had undergone a great change, I was sleek and glossy, for one of
the maids had used some hair brilliantine belonging to the mistress on my
coat. Accordingly Lord Roberts asked me to call again and I thanked him,
saying that I should be pleased to do so. We saw each other quite
frequently after that and became firm friends, for he soon found
discretion to be the better part of valor, as my time spent in the slums
had not been in vain in one respect,--I knew how to fight.



CHAPTER VI


My owners finally recognized me as the cat who had saved their silver. It
happened as follows: One night in the winter a nurse was up with one of