"Most likely much the same as did old Mrs. Pussy Cat up on the next
farm."

"How was that?" your Aunt Amy asked.

"Well, you see, she was partly black and partly white, and not being a
very neat cat, the white hair got dirty so often that she believed it
would be a great thing if it was all black. So she got the idea into her
head that if she should shave off the white hair, it would be the color
she wanted when it grew out again.

"Well, now what do you suppose that poor foolish thing did? Why she went
to the barber's, and had him shave all the white hair off of her body.
She actually frightened the ducks and the geese when she came home, she
looked so queer; but you couldn't have made her believe it. She thought
she was a perfect beauty, and when she came over to this farm that
evening, Mr. Thomas Cat said to her:

"'Why you are a perfect sight, that's what you are, with those tufts of
black hair all over you!'

"'That's all the style,' Mrs. Pussy Cat said, and I think she really
believed that she was as handsome as any cat you could find.

"Well, things went along all right while the weather was warm, but in
the course of ten days we had a heavy frost, and dear me, dear me, how
cold it grew all of a sudden! Poor Mrs. Pussy Cat was almost frozen to
death the first night of the cold snap, when she tried to stay with the
rest of us to a concert, and went home moaning: