ul cement on Geraldine's neck, and over night her head,
as Dot said, "grew on beautifully and tight."

"I wish we had a cat," said Meg the next morning, as she and Bobby
went out to the garage to carry their dog's breakfast to him.

Meg had made the same wish nearly every morning for the last year.

"Well, we have a dog," Bobby pointed out reasonably. "And you know
Norah can't bear cats."

Philip, the dog, came leaping to meet them, and he was followed by Sam
Layton, the man who ran the automobile for the Blossoms and cut the
lawn and did all the hundred and one useful jobs that are always
waiting to be done.

"Why, Sam!" Meg's voice rose in a surprised cry. "Why, Sam, what a
perfectly lovely cat! Whose is it, and where did it come from? Let me
hold her."

Sam put the soft bundle of gray fur into Meg's arms, and Philip sat
down on the grass and tried to look patient. He foresaw that he would
have to wait for his breakfast.

"She's your cat," Sam announced. "Leastways, I told Norah when you got
home you were to have her. Her name is Annabel Lee."

"Annabel Lee!" repeated the astonished Meg. "Did you name her, Sam?"

"I certainly did," answered Sam proudly. "Your father read me one of
your letters where you said your Aunt Polly's cat was named 'Poots';
and I said then and there our cat was going to have a poetry name. And
she's got it."

"It's a very nice name," said Bobby. "But does Norah know we have a
cat?"

Whenever the four little Blossoms had teased for a cat, Norah had
always flatly declared she wouldn't have one within a mile of her
kitchen; and the children knew that a cat that was never allowed in a
kitchen could not expect to be happy. So they had managed to get along
without such a pet.

"This cat," announced Sam mysteriously, "was sent for by Norah. She
wants it. In fact, she as much as said she wouldn't stay if your
father didn't get a cat."

CHAPTER II

SCHOOL SUPPLIES

"Norah wanted a cat!" repeated Meg unbelievingly. "But why? I thought
she hated cats, Sam."

"Mice," said Sam. "Traps no good. But Annabel Lee is clearing 'em out,
all right. She's a fine mouser. And the prettiest manners! You put the
dish down and watch her and Fill-Up eat together."

Meg found it rather trying that Sam would insist on calling the dog
she had named Philip by such an impolite title, but Sam always had his
way about such things. Meg put down the dish with Philip's breakfast
in it, and he and th