d hit a small white ball with it. He
had never seemed to want to play with me before, and I took it as a
great compliment. I raced after the ball, which he had hit quite a long
way, picked it up in my mouth, and brought it back to him. I laid it at
his feet, and smiled up at him.

'Hit it again,' I said.

He wasn't pleased at all. He said all sorts of things and tried to kick
me, and that night, when he thought I was not listening, I heard him
telling his wife that I was a pest and would have to be got rid of.
That made me think.

And then I put the lid on it. With the best intentions in the world I
got myself into such a mess that I thought the end had come.

It happened one afternoon in the drawing-room. There were visitors that
day--women; and women seem fatal to me. I was in the background, trying
not to be seen, for, though I had been brought in by Peter, the family
never liked my coming into the drawing-room. I was hoping for a piece
of cake and not paying much attention to the conversation, which was
all about somebody called Toto, whom I had not met. Peter's mother said
Toto was a sweet little darling, he was; and one of the visitors said
Toto had not been at all himself that day and she was quite worried.
And a good lot more about how all that Toto would ever take for dinner
was a little white meat of chicken, chopped up fine. It was not very
interesting, and I had allowed my attention to wander.

And just then, peeping round the corner of my chair to see if there
were any signs of cake, what should I see but a great beastly brute of
a rat. It was standing right beside the visitor, drinking milk out of a
saucer, if you please!

I may have my faults, but procrastination in the presence of rats is
not one of them. I didn't hesitate for a second. Here was my chance. If
there is one thing women hate, it is a rat. Mother always used to say,
'If you want to succeed in life, please the women. They are the real
bosses. The men don't count.' By eliminating this rodent I should earn
the gratitude and esteem of Peter's mother, and, if I did that, it did
not matter what Peter's father thought of me.

I sprang.

The rat hadn't a chance to get away. I was right on to him. I got hold
of his neck, gave him a couple of shakes, and chucked him across the
room. Then I ran across to finish him off.

Just as I reached him, he sat up and barked at me. I was never so taken
aback in my life. I pulled up short and stared at