Black, White and Gray | Page 4

let you keep them, because it is against my rule, which I
should not have made unless it had been necessary; but, if you like to
find them two good homes, I will allow you to give them away this
time."
"Oh auntie!" exclaimed Maisie, clapping her hands, "how lovely!"
"How long may we have to look out?" asked Dennis.
"The kittens must be sent away from here this day three weeks," said
Aunt Katharine solemnly; "and remember, children, I said `two good
homes,' so I trust you to take trouble to find them. It would be really
kinder to drown them at once, than to send them where they might be
starved or ill-treated."

Two good homes! It was indeed a serious responsibility, and their aunt
had said the words so earnestly, that the children were both much
impressed by them. Maisie in particular, in the midst of her rejoicing
that the kittens were saved, felt quite sobered by the burden resting
upon her.
"How ever shall we find two good homes?" she said to Dennis as they
went up-stairs. But Dennis never looked at the troublesome side of life,
if he could avoid it.
"It'll be jolly to keep all three of them for three weeks, won't it?" he
said. "How pleased Madam would be if she knew!"
"We must get up very early to-morrow, and go and tell her," said
Maisie.
"It matters most to tell Tom," said Dennis; "because if he finds them in
the loft, he'll drown them straight off in a bucket."
The horror of this suggestion, and the future of the two kittens if they
escaped this danger, kept Maisie awake for a long while that night.
She slept in a tiny room opening out of Aunt Katharine's, and she knew
how dreadfully late it must be, when she heard her aunt moving about,
and saw the light of her candle underneath the door. After that,
however, she soon went to sleep, with the kittens, their homes, and
Tom the stable-boy, all jumbled up together in her head.
CHAPTER TWO.
HAUGHTON PARK.
Before the clock had finished striking six the next morning, Dennis and
Maisie were in the stable-yard. Tom was there, pumping water into a
pail, and Jacko the raven was there, stalking about with gravity, and
uttering a deep croak now and then. Jacko was not a nice character, and
more feared than liked by most people. He was a thief and a bully, and
so cunning that it was impossible to be up to all his tricks. In mischief

he delighted, and nothing pleased him more than to frighten and tease
helpless things, yet, with all these bad qualities, he had been allowed to
march about for many years, unreproved, in Aunt Katharine's
stable-yard. Maisie had been very much afraid of him in the days when
she wore socks, for he had a way of digging at her little bare legs with
his cruel beak whenever he could get near her. She was not frightened
of him now that she was older, especially when Dennis was with her,
but still she did not trust him, and took care this morning not to cross
his path on her way to speak to Tom.
"If Jacko knew about the kittens," remarked Dennis as they passed,
"he'd go and peck out their eyes."
"Oh!" shuddered Maisie; "but," she added in a whisper, for she always
fancied Jacko understood, "their eyes aren't open yet, and besides
Madam would claw and scratch at him."
"He can claw and scratch too," said Dennis. "I expect he could kill
Madam and her kittens easily. And then he'd bury them, just as he does
his food, you know, and then."
Fortunately for Maisie, who was listening with horror to this picture of
cruelty and crime, Dennis stopped at this point, for they were now close
to Tom, who with his back towards them was making a dreadful noise
with a creaking pump handle.
"I say, Tom," he called out. Tom slowly turned his freckled face over
his shoulder, but did not leave off his work. "Madam's kittens are not to
be drowned," shouted Dennis at the top of his voice.
"They're all to be saved," added Maisie in a shriller key.--"Oh Dennis, I
don't believe he has taken it in. Do tell him to leave off pumping."
But just then, Tom's pails being full, he left off of his own accord, and
proceeded to carry them into the stable.
"You do understand, Tom," said Maisie anxiously, for she had an idea
that Tom rather liked drowning kittens. "Not to be drowned."

Tom's voice having answered indistinctly from one of the stalls, she
turned to follow Dennis, who was already half-way up the steep ladder
which led to the loft. After all,