“You shall ’ave my money wen your betters have done with it,” he ses, “and not afore.  That’s all you’ve done for yourself.”

Joe Clark didn’t know wot he meant at the time, but when old Clark died three months arterwards ’e found out.  His uncle ’ad made a new will and left everything to old George Barstow for as long as the cat lived, providing that he took care of it.  When the cat was dead the property was to go to Joe.

The cat was only two years old at the time, and George Barstow, who was arf crazy with joy, said it shouldn’t be ’is fault if it didn’t live another twenty years.

The funny thing was the quiet way Joe Clark took it.  He didn’t seem to be at all cut up about it, and when Henery Walker said it was a shame, ’e said he didn’t mind, and that George Barstow was a old man, and he was quite welcome to ’ave the property as long as the cat lived.

“It must come to me by the time I’m an old man,” he ses, “ard that’s all I care about.”

Henery Walker went off, and as ’e passed the cottage where old Clark used to live, and which George Barstow ’ad moved into, ’e spoke to the old man over the palings and told ’im wot Joe Clark ’ad said.  George Barstow only grunted and went on stooping and prying over ’is front garden.

“Bin and lost something?” ses Henery Walker, watching ’im.

“No; I’m finding,” ses George Barstow, very fierce, and picking up something.  “That’s the fifth bit o’ powdered liver I’ve found in my garden this morning.”

Henery Walker went off whistling, and the opinion he’d ‘ad o’ Joe Clark began to improve.  He spoke to Joe about it that arternoon, and Joe said that if ’e ever accused ‘im o’ such a thing again he’d knock ’is ’ead off.  He said that he ’oped the cat ’ud live to be a hundred, and that ’e’d no more think of giving it poisoned meat than Henery Walker would of paying for ’is drink so long as ’e could get anybody else to do it for ’im.

They ’ad bets up at this ’ere Cauliflower public-’ouse that evening as to ’ow long that cat ’ud live.  Nobody gave it more than a month, and Bill Chambers sat and thought o’ so many ways o’ killing it on the sly that it was wunnerful to hear ’im.

George Barstow took fright when he ’eard of them, and the care ‘e took o’ that cat was wunnerful to behold.  Arf its time it was shut up in the back bedroom, and the other arf George Barstow was fussing arter it till that cat got to hate ‘im like pison.  Instead o’ giving up work as he’d thought to do, ’e told Henery Walker that ’e’d never worked so ’ard in his life.

“Wot about fresh air and exercise for it?” ses Henery.

“Wot about Joe Clark?” ses George Bar-stow.  “I’m tied ’and and foot.  I dursent leave the house for a moment.  I ain’t been to the Cauliflower since I’ve ‘ad it, and three times I got out o’ bed last night to see if it was safe.”

“Mark my words,” ses Henery Walker; “if that cat don’t ’ave exercise, you’ll lose it.