hy, a mouse to be sure," answered Nurse promptly.

"Well, but _next_ to mice?" persisted Ruth.

"Fish," said Nurse Smith.

"That would never do," thought Ruth to herself as she looked at a
fish-shop they were passing. "It's so wet and slippery I couldn't
possibly carry it home. Perhaps Nurse doesn't _really_ know what cats
like best. Anyhow, I'm sure it's never tasted anything so nice as a
Bath bun." A Bath bun was accordingly bought, carried home, and put
carefully away in the doll's house. And now Ruth felt that she had an
important piece of business before her. She spread out a sheet of the
new writing-paper on the window-seat, knelt in front of it with a pencil
in her hand, and ruled some lines. She could not write very well, and
was often uncertain how to spell even short words; so she bit the end of
her pencil and sighed a good deal before the letter was finished. At
last it was done, and put into the envelope. But now came a new
difficulty: How should it be addressed? After much thought she wrote
the following:

The Kitchen Cat,
The Kitchen,
17 Gower Street.

CHAPTER TWO.

HER BEST FRIEND.

After this letter had been dropped into the pillar-box just in front of
the house, Ruth began to look out still more eagerly for the kitchen
cat, but days passed and she caught no glimpse of it anywhere.

It was disappointing, and troublesome too, because she had to carry the
Bath bun about with her so long. Not only was it getting hard and dry,
but it was such an awkward thing for her pocket that she had torn her
frock in the effort to force it in.

"You might a' been carrying brick-bats about with you, Miss Ruth," said
Nurse, "by the way you've slit your pocket open."

This went on till Ruth began to despair. "I'll try it one more
evening," she said to herself, "and if it doesn't come then I shall give
it up."

Once more, therefore, when she was ready to go downstairs, she took the
bun out of the dolls' house, where she kept it wrapped up in tissue
paper, and squeezed it into her pocket. Rather hopelessly, but still
keeping a careful look-out, she proceeded slowly on her way, when
behold, just as she reached the top of the last flight, a little
cringing grey figure crossed the hall below.

"It's come!" she exclaimed in an excited whisper. "It's come at last!"

But though it had come, it seemed now the cat's greatest desire to go,
for it was hurrying towards the kitchen stairs.

"Pu