Purty skin as white as a leddy's. Do, darlint, go down to the
lake and wash there; that basin is big enough, any how." And John
would laugh, and go down to the lake to wash, in order to appease
the wrath of the old woman. John had a great dislike to cats, and
even regarded with an evil eye our old pet cat, Peppermint, who had
taken a great fancy to share his bed and board.
"If I tolerate our own cat," he would say, "I will not put up with
such a nuisance as your friend Emilia sends us in the shape of her
ugly Tom. Why, where in the world do you think I found that beast
sleeping last night?"
I expressed my ignorance.
"In our potato-pot. Now, you will agree with me that potatoes
dressed with cat's hair is not a very nice dish. The next time
I catch Master Tom in the potato-pot, I will kill him."
"John, you are not in earnest. Mrs. - - would never forgive any
injury done to Tom, who is a great favourite."
"Let her keep him at home, then. Think of the brute coming a mile
through the woods to steal from us all he can find, and then
sleeping off the effects of his depredations in the potato-pot."
I could not help laughing, but I begged John by no means to annoy
Emilia by hurting her cat.
