and a bit o' land bringing in about forty pounds a year, he
'ad to 'ide his feelings and pretend as he loved it. He used to take it
little drops o' cream and tit-bits o' meat, and old Clark was so pleased
that 'e promised 'im that he should 'ave the cat along with all the other
property when 'e was dead.

Young Joe said he couldn't thank 'im enough, and the old man, who 'ad
been ailing a long time, made 'im come up every day to teach 'im 'ow to
take care of it arter he was gone. He taught Joe 'ow to cook its meat
and then chop it up fine; 'ow it liked a clean saucer every time for its
milk; and 'ow he wasn't to make a noise when it was asleep.

"Take care your children don't worry it, Joe," he ses one day, very
sharp. "One o' your boys was pulling its tail this morning, and I want
you to clump his 'ead for 'im."

"Which one was it?" ses Joe.

"The slobbery-nosed one," ses old Clark.

"I'll give 'im a clout as soon as I get 'ome," ses Joe, who was very fond
of 'is children.

"Go and fetch 'im and do it 'ere," ses the old man; "that'll teach 'im to
love animals."

Joe went off 'ome to fetch the boy, and arter his mother 'ad washed his
face, and wiped his nose, an' put a clean pinneyfore on 'im, he took 'im
to 'is uncle's and clouted his 'ead for 'im. Arter that Joe and 'is wife
'ad words all night long, and next morning old Clark, coming in from the
garden, was just in time to see 'im kick the cat right acrost the
kitchen.

He could 'ardly speak for a minute, and when 'e could Joe see plain wot a
fool he'd been. Fust of all 'e called Joe every name he could think of--
which took 'im a long time--and then he ordered 'im out of 'is house.

"You shall 'ave my money wen your betters have done with it," he ses,
"and not afore. That's all you've done for yourself."

Joe Clark didn't know wot he meant at the time, but when old Clark died
three months arterwards 'e found out. His uncle 'ad made a new will and
left everything to old George Barstow for as long as the cat lived,
providing that he took care of it. When the cat was dead the property
was to go to Joe.

The cat was only two years old at the time, and George Barstow, who was
arf crazy with joy, said it shouldn't be 'is fault if it didn't live
another twenty years.

The funny thing was the quiet way Joe Clark took it. He didn't seem to
be at all cut up about it, and when Henery Walker said it was a shame,
'e said he didn't mind, and that George Bar