chful expression with which she would slowly get up, stretch all
her legs, and walk away, looking for her next sleeping-place. Everybody
in the house, except me, hated the sight of her; and I had many a
pitched battle with the servants in her behalf. Even my mother, who was
the kindest human being I ever knew, got out of patience at last, and
said to me one day:--

"Helen, your Pussy has grown so old and so fat, she is no comfort to
herself, and a great torment to everybody else. I think it would be a
mercy to kill her."

"Kill my Pussy!" I exclaimed, and burst out crying, so loud and so hard
that I think my mother was frightened; for she said quickly:--

"Never mind, dear; it shall not be done, unless it is necessary. You
would not want Pussy to live, if she were very uncomfortable all the
time."

"She isn't uncomfortable," I cried; "she is only sleepy. If people would
let her alone, she would sleep all day. It would be awful to kill her.
You might as well kill me!"

After that, I kept a very close eye on Pussy; and I carried her up to
bed with me every night for a long time.

But Pussy's days were numbered. One morning, before I was up, my mamma
came into my room, and sat down on the edge of my bed.

"Helen," she said, "I have something to tell you which will make you
feel very badly; but I hope you will be a good little girl, and not make
mamma unhappy about it. You know your papa and mamma always do what they
think is the very best thing."

"What is it, mamma?" I asked, feeling very much frightened, but never
thinking of Pussy.

"You will never see your Pussy any more," she replied. "She is dead."

"Oh, where is she?" I cried. "What killed her? Won't she come to life
again?"

"No," said my mother; "she is drowned."

Then I knew what had happened.

"Who did it?" was all I said.

"Cousin Josiah," she replied; "and he took great care that Pussy did not
suffer at all. She sank to the bottom instantly."

"Where did he drown her?" I asked.

"Down by the mill, in Mill Valley, where the water is very deep,"
answered my mother; "we told him to take her there."

At these words I cried bitterly.

"That's the very place I used to go with her to play," I exclaimed.
"I'll never go near that bridge as long as I live, and I'll never speak
a word to Cousin Josiah either--never!"

My mother tried to comfort me, but it was of no use; my heart was nearly
broken.

When I went to breakfast, there sat my cousin