The Story of a China Cat | Page 6

her arm.
"Why, the lovely white China Cat has a speck of dirt on her back," said Angelina. "I must have forgotten to dust her yesterday."
"Oh, my!" thought the China Cat, who heard what was said, though she could not turn around to lick off the speck with her red tongue, "some black must have come off Topsy after all."
"Oh, no, it isn't dirt," said Angelina, as she took the Cat down to look more closely at her. "It's just a little speck of black feather from my duster. It must have just got on."
"Oh, I'm so glad of that!" thought the white Cat. "I wouldn't want to think that Topsy's black rubbed off."
Soon the store was in readiness for customers, and among the first to enter that morning was a little girl. She was with a lady, who was the little girl's aunt.
"Now, Jennie," said the aunt, as Mr. Mugg came forward to wait on them, "what present would you like? You may pick out anything you please."
"Oh, Aunt Clara! How lovely of you!" cried Jennie Moore, for that was her name. "Let me see now. What would I like best?"
While Jennie was looking along the shelves of toys her aunt said in a low tone to Mr. Mugg:
"Jennie has been such a good girl, helping her mother who was ill, that I promised her any toy she wished."
"That is very kind of you, I am sure," said Mr. Mugg, rubbing his hands and looking over the tops of his glasses. "We have many toys here for good little girls, and for good boys, too. Not long ago I sold a Nodding Donkey to a lame boy, and, would you believe me; that boy isn't lame at all now," and Mr. Mugg laughed, and Aunt Clara laughed also.
But Jennie was looking along the shelves of toys. The China Cat looked down, and when she saw what a nice little girl Jennie was, so neat and clean, the China Cat thought to herself:
"If I have to be taken away and belong to some child, I think I should like to go to Jennie's house. I'm sure she would be kind to me and love me, and I would love her."
Jennie seemed to be thinking the same thing about the China Cat, for suddenly she reached up and took down the white toy.
"Here, Aunt Clara, this is what I would like," said Jennie.
She walked toward her aunt and Mr. Mugg with the China Cat in her hand, but, just before she reached them, Jennie tripped over a velocipede on the floor, and seemed about to fall.
"Oh, Jennie, don't drop that China Cat, whatever you do!" cried her aunt.
CHAPTER III
"FIRE! FIRE!"
Had Jennie Moore stumbled and dropped the China Cat to the floor of the toy shop that would have been the end of this book. For if the Cat had fallen she surely would have been broken to bits. And, though Mr. Mugg might have been able to glue the pieces together again, the China Cat never would have been like herself, and there would be no story about her.
But, as it happened, there was a soft footstool just in front of the velocipede over which Jennie stumbled, and the little girl fell down on that, still holding the China Cat in her hands. Not once did Jennie let go of the toy she had taken off the shelf.
"Oh, my dear little girl! I hope you did not hurt yourself!" cried Mr. Horatio Mugg, as he sprang forward to raise Jennie from the footstool, across which she had fallen.
"And I hope she hasn't broken the China Cat!" exclaimed Aunt Clara.
"Well," replied Mr. Mugg, with a kind smile, "breaking the China Cat would not have been so bad. I could easily send to the workshop of Santa Claus and get another toy. But nice little girls, if they fall and hurt themselves, are not so easily mended. I am glad you are not hurt, my dear," he went on, as he helped Jennie to her feet.
"And I am glad the China Cat is not broken," said Aunt Clara. "It is a lovely piece of work."
"Yes, it is one of my choicest toys," said Mr. Mugg. "It can not talk, like some of my dolls, nor spring about like some of the Jumping Jacks. But the Cat is so clean and white that it would be an ornament in any home."
"She'll look lovely on my bureau," said Jennie. "Does her head come off, Mr. Mugg?" the nice little girl asked, as her aunt was looking carefully at the China Cat.
"Oh, my, no!" laughed the toy-shop man. "I once had a cat whose head could be lifted off, and burned matches could be dropped down inside her. But this Cat isn't that kind."
"I should hope not!"