The traveller grunted and, returning to the settle opposite the old man, fell to lazily stroking a cat which had strolled in attracted by the warmth of the small fire which smouldered in the grate.

“He’s a good mouser,” said the old man, “but I expect that Smith the landlord would sell ’im to anybody for arf a crown; but we ’ad a cat in Claybury once that you couldn’t ha’ bought for a hundred golden sovereigns.”

The traveller continued to caress the cat.

“A white cat, with one yaller eye and one blue one,” continued the old man.  “It sounds queer, but it’s as true as I sit ’ere wishing that I ’ad another mug o’ ale as good as the last you gave me.”

The traveller, with a start that upset the cat’s nerves, finished his own mug, and then ordered both to be refilled.  He stirred the fire into a blaze, and, lighting his pipe and putting one foot on to the hob, prepared to listen.

It used to belong to old man Clark, young Joe Clark’s uncle, said the ancient, smacking his lips delicately over the ale and extending a tremulous claw to the tobacco-pouch pushed towards him; and he was never tired of showing it off to people.  He used to call it ’is blue-eyed darling, and the fuss ‘e made o’ that cat was sinful.

Young Joe Clark couldn’t bear it, but being down in ’is uncle’s will for five cottages and a bit o’ land bringing in about forty pounds a year, he ’ad to ’ide his feelings and pretend as he loved it.  He used to take it little drops o’ cream and tit-bits o’ meat, and old Clark was so pleased that ’e promised ’im that he should ’ave the cat along with all the other property when ’e was dead.

Young Joe said he couldn’t thank ’im enough, and the old man, who ’ad been ailing a long time, made ’im come up every day to teach ’im ’ow to take care of it arter he was gone.  He taught Joe ’ow to cook its meat and then chop it up fine; ’ow it liked a clean saucer every time for its milk; and ’ow he wasn’t to make a noise when it was asleep.

“Take care your children don’t worry it, Joe,” he ses one day, very sharp.  “One o’ your boys was pulling its tail this morning, and I want you to clump his ’ead for ’im.”

“Which one was it?” ses Joe.

“The slobbery-nosed one,” ses old Clark.

“I’ll give ’im a clout as soon as I get ’ome,” ses Joe, who was very fond of ’is children.

“Go and fetch ’im and do it ’ere,” ses the old man; “that’ll teach ’im to love animals.”

Joe went off ’ome to fetch the boy, and arter his mother ’ad washed his face, and wiped his nose, an’ put a clean pinneyfore on ’im, he took ’im to ’is uncle’s and clouted his ’ead for ’im.  Arter that Joe and ’is wife ’ad words all night long, and next morning old Clark, coming in from the garden, was just in time to see ’im kick the cat right acrost the kitchen.

He could ’ardly speak for a minute, and when ’e could Joe see plain wot a fool he’d been.  Fust of all ’e called Joe every name he could think of—­ which took ’im a long time—­and then he ordered ’im out of ’is house.