nguage, and often she did not know what they wanted her to do.
However, as she was a good, kindhearted girl, she set to work to pick
up the little kittens which tumbled about on the floor, she patched
up quarrels, and nursed on her lap a big tabby--the oldest of the
community--which had a lame paw. All these kindnesses could hardly fail
to make a favourable impression on the cats, and it was even better
after a while, when she had had time to grow accustomed to their strange
ways. Never had the house been kept so clean, the meats so well served,
nor the sick cats so well cared for. After a time they had a visit from
an old cat, whom they called their father, who lived by himself in a
barn at the top of the hill, and came down from time to time to inspect
the little colony. He too was much taken with Lizina, and inquired, on
first seeing her: 'Are you well served by this nice, black-eyed little
person?' and the cats answered with one voice: 'Oh, yes, Father Gatto,
we have never had so good a servant!'

At each of his visits the answer was always the same; but after a time
the old cat, who was very observant, noticed that the little maid had
grown to look sadder and sadder. 'What is the matter, my child has any
one been unkind to you?' he asked one day, when he found her crying in
her kitchen. She burst into tears and answered between her sobs: 'Oh,
no! they are all very good to me; but I long for news from home, and I
pine to see my mother and my sister.'

Old Gatto, being a sensible old cat, understood the little servant's
feelings. 'You shall go home,' he said, 'and you shall not come back
here unless you please. But first you must be rewarded for all your kind
services to my children. Follow me down into the inner cellar, where you
have never yet been, for I always keep it locked and carry the key away
with me.'

Lizina looked round her in astonishment as they went down into the
great vaulted cellar underneath the kitchen. Before her stood the big
earthenware water jars, one of which contained oil, the other a liquid
shining like gold. 'In which of these jars shall I dip you?' asked
Father Gatto, with a grin that showed all his sharp white teeth, while
his moustaches stood out straight on either side of his face. The little
maid looked at the two jars from under her long dark lashes: 'In the oil
jar,' she answered timidly, thinking to herself: 'I could not ask to be
bathed in gold.'

But Father Gatto replied: 'No,