not come? They must have known he would be there. Once two
ladies came past--gentle, kind ladies of the sort to which he was
accustomed--and he sat up and begged. 'Oh, look at that dear doggie!'
cried one. 'We couldn't choose a nicer one; let us have him.' But when
they inquired about him they found that Scamp was not for sale just yet.

Then toward evening, when it was growing dusk, he suddenly heard a voice
that made his heart leap, and he jumped up and whined with excitement,
and Ethel cried: 'Oh, father, there he is! Don't you hear him?' And he
was let out, and she went down on her knees to kiss and hug him, and he
jumped about her so wildly that he nearly knocked her hat off. Surely
there was never a happier little dog went home that night than Scamp!

There are homes for cats in London, too; but often poor cats have a
much worse time than dogs. You remember that a great many of the
fashionable people only stay in London for the season, and then they
shut up their houses and go away into the country for several months.
Well, sometimes they are so thoughtless as to leave their poor cats
without any food or shelter--they forget about them. But a cat can't
live on nothing any more than a dog can. Perhaps poor puss has been out
for a walk, and comes back to find the house all shut and silent, and
she waits patiently a long time; but no one comes, and the boys in the
street throw stones at her. So she runs across to the square, and waits
there; but still the door is never opened. If she is lucky and clever at
hunting she may catch a little sparrow or find something in the roadway
to eat; but as the days go on she gets thinner and thinner, and weaker
and weaker, and at last, perhaps, dies of starvation unless some kind
person takes the trouble to send her to a cats' home. The cats' homes
are much the same as the dogs. If possible the cats are sold, and if not
they are quietly and painlessly killed--a much better fate than starving
in the streets. Sometimes the rich people do remember their cats, but
can't take them away; and so before they go they send them to a cats'
home, and pay for them to be kept there until they come back. Puss is
then well fed and happy; for a cat makes herself happy anywhere where
she is comfortable much more readily than a dog does, and then when the
family return for the winter she goes back to her own snug kitchen.

Some dogs who have lived in London all their lives as Scamp did, are
used to