THE NINTH NIGHT
Dolly was sitting up in bed when Impty came purring in the next evening. She looked very happy, and she called out gayly to the black kitten: “Oh, Impty! Mother is coming home to-morrow! Miss Jane told me so when she was undressing me.”
“I know,” answered Impty, curling up comfortably. “The cook was talking about it to Eliza when I was eating my supper in the kitchen. Yes, this is our last night together, and because it’s the very last time I shall ever talk to you, I’m going to tell you the finest cat-tale in the whole world. It’s ‘Puss-In-Boots.’”