The Story of a China Cat | Page 7

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!" thought the China Cat, while Aunt Clara was
looking her over. "Not that I don't consider my cousin, the Match Cat,
as nice as I am," she told herself, "but I'm just different; that's all! I
hope I may go to live with this little girl. I shall be able to keep myself
spotless and white in her home, I'm sure."
But the China Cat was not yet to leave the toy store. And there were
some strange adventures soon to happen, as I shall tell you.
"Well, Jennie," said Aunt Clara, as she again let the little girl take the
China Cat, "if you think you want this toy you may have it. But we will
not take it with us now. I have some other shopping to do, and if we
carry the Cat with us something may happen to her."

"Oh, can't I take her now?" pleaded Jennie.
"No, my dear," her aunt answered. "Mr. Mugg will put her aside for
you, and I will come in to-morrow and get her."
"Yes, I'll save the China Cat for you," promised the toy man.
"If I may be sure of having her I don't mind," said Jennie. "But we must
be sure and come after her to-morrow, Auntie."
"We will come to-morrow surely," said Aunt Clara, and then, after
Jennie had taken one more look at the toy she hoped soon would be
hers, she followed her aunt out of the store.
Mr. Mugg and his two daughters were very busy in their toy shop that
day. A load of packing boxes arrived, direct from the North Pole
workshop of Santa Claus, and these boxes were stored down in the
basement.
"We will open those boxes some day next week," said Mr. Mugg to his
daughters. "Perhaps among the new toys there may be another China
Cat. I certainly hope so, for when Jennie's aunt comes for this one we
shall feel lonesome."
Mr. Mugg took a box of matches and went down into the basement to
light the gas and see about storing away the cases of new toys. And
when the men had opened some, not taking many of the toys out,
however, the storekeeper was called up stairs by one of his daughters.
"Leave the cases the way they are," he said to the expressmen. "Don't
open any more. I'll do that later in the week."
Then Mr. Mugg turned the gas down low, for he thought he might
come back again, and up the stairs he hurried to see what his daughter
wanted. As he walked across the basement floor the box of matches
dropped out of his pocket, near some straw from one of the packing
cases.

"I'll get the matches when I come back," thought the toy man. But the
rest of the day he was so busy he forgot all about them.
Back on the shelf, out of sight, the China Cat thought over what had
happened that day.
"I surely am glad Jennie didn't let me fall and break," said the Cat to
herself. "And I am glad I am going to belong to such a nice, clean little
girl." Then, as one could see her, hidden away as she was, the China
Cat washed her paws with her red tongue.
Once again night came. The toy store was closed, and all the lights
turned out except a small one in the middle of the store. For a time it
was quiet, and then, once more, the Trumpeter blew a jolly blast on his
horn.
Toot! Toot! Toot! went the trumpet.
"Are you ready for more fun?" asked the Talking Doll.
"Yes," was the answer. "It