isn't satisfied. There's no suiting some people. There
you are, sir!" and Will, having caught the table-cloth from the table,
sending the magazines and papers in a shower to the floor, threw it
over the poor little black thing, so that, in picking it up, he could
muffle its claws, so that it could not scratch. Its neck was torn a
little, with the sharp, rough edges of the tin can, and a redoubled
chorus of frightened meows greeted his first attempt to remove it.

"Should think a whole orchestra of cats was shut up in here," Will
observed, trying another direction. "Arch, get out your knife, and see
if you can rip up this can a little. Jove, but it's snug! We can
dispense with a little of that music, my fine fellow. There--you--are,"
as Archie, with a final careful twist, drew off the can. Once out of its
tin bondage, the little creature seemed too frightened to move, and
suddenly curled down under the protecting table-cover, to restore its
ruffled fur, with many a piteous mew.

The girls gathered around to pet and soothe it.

"Keep away, girls. Don't touch it yet with your hands. It's so
frightened still it might scratch you. Here, Cricket, take it in the
table-cloth, there. Better give it something to eat. It's a stray cat,
and probably half starved, and that's why it tried to eat tomato cans,
like a goat."

Cricket bore off her charge to the kitchen, where she fed and soothed it
with such good effect that, when she came back, half an hour later, the
little black cat cuddled down on her arm, purring like a teakettle in
spite of its wounded neck.

"Isn't it a dear?" she said, admiringly. "I think grandma will let me
keep it. We haven't any cat in the house since Wallops died, and I love
them."

Grandma was entirely willing that the little waif should be added to the
family, and so it was legally adopted by Cricket, with all sorts of
solemn ceremonies. Then came the naming it, always a serious difficulty.

"I want a very appropriate name," meditated Cricket, aloud.

"The Cat in the Iron Mask," suggested Will.

"Too long. Think of calling all that out when I want him in a hurry."

"Cantankerous," said Archie.

"No, I want a regular name."

"Can-on Farrar, then. That's a regular name, and it's a very appropriate
one."

"I don't like that, either. I want just a plain, common, every-day sort
of name, like George Washington."

"Very well, take George Washington, then. That is very appropriate
indeed. He cou