shows how keen are the sufferings of a pampered pet, thrown on its own
resources and forced to wander day by day without food or water. Surely it
may save some poor beast from misery, and I sincerely hope that it will
not have been written in vain.



CHAPTER I


The first thing I remember is that all was dark, but that I could feel a
mother's loving caress and knew that there were other helpless things in
the same box with me. After several days, something large and strong
lifted us, box and all, and carried us up into a much more pleasant place;
I can still remember how good it smelled. Upon opening my eyes the next
day, I beheld the face of my mother and found that we were seven, and were
comfortably settled at the rear of a provision store. Mother did not feel
at all safe; that I could see by the uneasy manner in which she looked
about her, and started and trembled as people came to look at us. Once, if
I remember correctly, she tried to bite a small boy who would persist in
picking me up by the tail. Her claws showed also and she took good care of
us in many like emergencies. She continued to be uneasy, and one day when
Mr. Carver, the butcher, had stepped out on business, she took us one by
one in her mouth, lifting us carefully by the nape of the neck, and
carried us back into the cellar again.

It was dark and cold and we did not like it very well, but mother cuddled
us up in her warm embrace and tried to make us feel that it was best for
us to be away from people. When Mr. Carver came back and saw the empty box
he came down into the cellar and scolded poor mother, saying, "Now, old