e beast
that if she doesn't quit her practice of swearing at me whenever I come
into the room it will be the worse for her.'

"'That's easy enough,' said Thomas. 'I know one or two little things
about that cat that would not do to be told, and she knows that I know
them. Never you fear but that I can shut her up in a moment. I heard
that she was going about bragging that she would get square with you for
something you said to her one day, but I didn't feel called upon to
interfere without your express approval.'

"The next day Thomas and I strolled over to Susan's, and, as luck would
have it, we were shown into her reception room before she came down
stairs. The Maltese cat was in the room, and began her usual game of
being filled with horror at the sight of such a hardened wretch as
myself. Of course, Thomas Aquinas took it up at once, and the two had a
pretty hot argument. Now Thomas, in spite of his colossal mind, was a
quick-tempered cat, and he was remarkably free spoken when he was
roused. One word led to another, and presently the Maltese flew at
Thomas, and for about two minutes that room was so thick with fur that
you could hardly see the fight. Of course, there could have been only
one end to the affair. My cat weighed twice what the Maltese weighed,
and after a few rounds he had her by the neck, and never let go until he
had killed her. I was just saying 'Hooray! Thomas!' when Susan came into
the room.

[Illustration: "SUSAN CAME INTO THE ROOM."]

"I pass over what she said. Its general sense was that a man who
encouraged dumb animals to fight, and who brought a great savage brute
into her house to kill her sweet little pussy in her own parlour, wasn't
fit to live. She would listen to no explanations, and when I said that
Thomas had called at my request to reason with the Maltese about her
unkind conduct towards me, Susan said that my attempt to turn an
infamous outrage into a stupid joke made the matter all the worse, and
that she must insist that I and my prize fighting beast should leave her
house at once and never enter it again.

"So you see that if it had not been that I understood what the Maltese
cat said at Martha Washington's milk party, I should probably never have
quarrelled with either Susan or her cat, and should now have been a
missionary in Central Africa, if I hadn't blown my brains out, or taken
to drink. I have often thought that the man Susan did marry might have
been saved if he had