was a rustle, and looking round, there was one of
Old Brownsmith's cats coming along the path with curved back, and tail
drooped sidewise, and every hair upon it erect till it looked like a
drooping plume.

The cat suddenly rushed at me, stopped short, tore round me, and then
ran a little way, and crouched, as if about to make a spring upon me,
ending by walking up in a very stately way to rub himself against my
leg.

"Why, Ginger, old fellow," I said, "are you come to say good-bye?"

I don't think the cat understood me, but he looked up, blinked, and
uttered a pathetic kind of _mew_ that went to my heart, as I stooped
down and lifted him up in my arms to hug him to my breast, where he
nestled, purring loudly, and inserting his claws gently into my jacket,
and tearing them out, as if the act was satisfactory.

He was an ugly great sandy Tom, with stripes down his sides, but he
seemed to me just then to be the handsomest cat I had ever seen, and the
best friend I had in the world, and I made a vow that I would ask Old
Brownsmith to let me have him to take with me, if his brother would
allow me to include him in my belongings.

"Will you come with me, Ginger?" I said, stroking him. The cat purred
and went on, climbing up to my shoulder, where there was not much room
for him, but he set his fore-paws on my shoulder, drove them into my
jacket, and let his hind-legs go well down my back before he hooked on
there, crouching close to me, and seeming perfectly happy as I walked on
wondering where Ike was at work.

I found him at last, busy trenching some ground at the back of Shock's
kitchen, as I called the shed where he cooked his potatoes and snails.

As I came up to the old fellow he glanced at me surlily, stopped
digging, and began to scrape his big shining spade.

"Hullo!" he said gruffly; and the faint hope that he would be sorry died
away.

"Ike," I said, "I'm going away."

"What?" he shouted.

"I'm going to leave here," I said.

"Get out, you discontented warmint!" he cried savagely, "you don't know
when you're well off."

"Yes, I do," I said; "but Mr Brownsmith's going to send me away."

"What!" he roared, driving in his spade, and beginning to dig with all
his might.

"Mr Brownsmith's going to send me away."

"Old Brownsmith's going to send you away?"

"Yes."

"Why, what have you been a-doin' of?" he cried more fiercely than ever,
as he drove his spade into the earth.

"Nothing at all."