“THEY were rich folk” the tortoiseshell cat continued; “but one year, when they went to the seaside, they forgot to provide for my board and lodging, and I had to go into trade again.

“The milkman looked lonely; so I thought it would be only kind to go home with him. But his tastes were low.

“He took skim milk in his tea, and gave me the same. Of course, after that, I could not stay another hour under his roof.

“Now I live with a worker in silver, and I have cream every day; I lick my lips, and think what a happy cat I am to live with such a good man. Where do you live?”

“With a poor widow, in an attic. I never have enough to eat.” And, indeed, the grey cat was thin.

“Why do you stay with her?”

“Because I love her,” said the grey cat.