“Do you suppose she’ll like it, mamma?  You know she’s so odd that one never can tell.”

Mrs. Dunlee was sure the picture would be appreciated.  The cherub’s sweet face looked like Eddo’s, and the clouds lay about him very softly, leaving bare his pretty dimpled feet, and hands, and arms, and neck.  On Friday afternoon Edith took the picture in her hand and knocked with a beating heart at the door of Number Five.

“Mrs. Me—­McQuilken,” said she, in a timid voice, on entering the room, “you’re so fond of pictures that I thought I’d bring you one I drew myself.  I’m afraid it’s not so very, very good; but I hope you’ll like it just a little.”

[Illustration]

Mrs. McQuilken was much surprised as well as gratified; and actually there were tears in her eyes as she took the offering from Edith’s hand.  She was a lonely old body, and never expected much attention from any one, especially from children.

“Why, how kind of you, my dear!  It’s a beauty!” she exclaimed, gazing at the cherub through her spectacles.  She was a good judge of pictures.  “That face is well drawn, and the clouds are fleecy.  Did you really do it your own self—­and for me?  Thank you, dear child!”

Edith blushed with pleasure.  She had by no means counted on such praise.

“I’ll always be kind to old people after this,” she thought.  “I believe they care more about it than you think they do.”

But here they were interrupted by the very loud mewing of a cat out of doors.  They both ran downstairs to see what it meant.

“I do hope and trust it isn’t my Zee,” cried Edith in alarm.

But it was.  They did not see her at first; she was in the back yard behind the hotel.  It seems a pan of clams had been left standing on the back door-step; and Zee must have been frolicking about the pan, never dreaming any live creature was in it, when one of the clams, attracted by her black waving tail, had caught the tip of the tail in his mouth and was holding it fast!

This was pretty severe.  Being only an ignorant bivalve, the clam did not know that what he had in his mouth was a very precious article, the “prize tail” of a beautiful cat.  But having once taken hold of it, the clam was too obstinate to let go.

Poor Zee jumped up and down, and ran around in circles, mewing with all her might.  What had happened she did not know; she only knew some heavy thing was dragging at her tail and pinching it fearfully.  Every one in the back of the house was busy; no one but Eddo heard Zee’s cries.  He ran to the maid to ask “what made the kitty sing so sorry?” Whenever she mewed he called it singing.

The maid looked out then and threw down her mixing-spoon for laughing.  It was an odd sight to see a cat prancing about, waving her plume-like tail with a clam at the end of it!  Nancy was sorry for the kitten, but did not know how in the world to get off the clam.