. . .aw with his little pink tongue, and curling it round over his furry little cheeks and forehead and chin and even behind his ears. By breakfast time he was clean enough to be allowed to eat with his mother and Aunt Tabby.

The human people and the cat people had their breakfast at the same time. The human people had theirs in the dining-room, and the cat people had theirs in the pantry. The cat people always had very good meals; bread and milk, and fish twice a week, and sometimes meat and potatoes.

"What's the use of my bothering to catch mice?" Jazbury often said. "I get all I want to eat anyway."

And his aunt would answer, "You ought to feel grateful enough for your good meals to want to catch mice for people."

But Jazbury paid little attention to such advice. All he cared for was having a good time and play about, and if mice had to be caught he left it to his mother and Aunt. . . Read More