piece of cleverness which my sister invented and carried through
entirely out of her own head. She made friends with one of the cows at
the farm near us, and used to go into the cowhouse and jump on the cow's
back. Then when the cow was sent out into the field to get her grassy
breakfast, my sister used to go with her, riding on her back.

Now birds are always very much on the look-out for cats, and, if they
can help it, never allow one of us to come within half-a-dozen yards of
them without taking to those silly wings of theirs. I never could see
why birds should have wings--so unnecessary.

But birds are not afraid of cows, for cows are very poor sportsmen, and
never care to kill and eat anything.

Now the back of a cow is the last place where you would think of looking
for a cat; so when the starlings saw the cow coming, they didn't think
it worth while to use their wings, and when the cow was quite close to
the birds--beautiful, fat, delightful birds--- my sister used to pick
out with her eye the fattest starling, and then leap suddenly from the
cow's back on to her prey. She never missed.

"I have never known," said my poor mother with tears of pride in her
green eyes--"I have never known a cat do anything so clever."

"It's all your doing, mother dear," said my sister prettily; "if you
hadn't taught me so well when I was little, I should never have thought
of it." And they kissed each other affectionately.

I showed my claws and growled. My mother shook her tabby head.

"O Buff," she said, "if you had only been willing to learn when you were
little, you might have been as clever as your sister, instead of
being the great anxiety you are to me."

"And why am I an anxiety?" I said, ruffling up my fur and my tail, for I
was very angry.

"Because you are useless," she said, "and not particularly handsome; and
when a cat is useless and not particularly handsome, they sometimes----"

"What?" I said, turning pale to the ends of my ears.

"They sometimes drown it, Buff," she said in a whisper, and turned away
to hide her feelings.

Judge of my own next day when they came into the kitchen and took me up
and put me into a basket. I knew all about drowning. These tales of
horror are told at twilight time in all cat nurseries, and I knew that
if three large stones were put into the basket with me, I might
consider my fate sealed.

It was very uncomfortable in the basket. They carried me upside-down
part of the