Part 7 (1/2)

CHAPTER VI

A TERRIBLE STORM

Jeff was not going to let his China Cat be taken from him in this fas.h.i.+on. With a yell he darted up the bas.e.m.e.nt steps and ran after his sister.

”Come back heah! Bring back mah cat!” yelled the colored boy.

”No! No!” screamed his sister. ”I done got her, an' she's mine now! She suah is mine!”

Faster and faster the little colored girl raced down the street, but of course she could not run as fast as Jeff, who soon caught up to her.

Reaching forth his hands, which were now dirtier than before, Jeff caught hold of his sister's kinky hair.

”Ouch! Oh, yo' stop dat, Jeff!” she wailed.

”Gib me back mah white cat!” he demanded, and he took the toy roughly from his sister. Arabella began to cry, and a man who was pa.s.sing stopped and looked at the colored children.

”What are you doing?” he asked.

”Oh, we's only playin',” answered Jeff. ”She took mah cat, an' I wanted it back.”

”Hum!” mused the man. ”That's a queer kind of play, I think. And if you drop that cat on the sidewalk you won't be able to play with her, for she'll be broken to pieces.”

”What a dreadful thing! Oh, if that should happen!” thought the China Cat, who heard all that was said.

”I ain't gwine to drop her,” declared Jeff, as he turned away with the China Cat in his dirty hands. With tears on her black cheeks, Arabella followed her brother back to the tenement.

Jeff put his toy down on the table again. On one wall of the room was a looking gla.s.s. It was cracked and not very clean, but as a ray of suns.h.i.+ne entered the dingy bas.e.m.e.nt the China Cat, by the gleam of it, saw her reflection.

”Why, I hardly know myself!” she whispered, not daring, of course, to speak aloud or to move and make believe come to life. There were too many colored children looking at her. ”Oh, what a fright I am!” thought the China Cat and sighed.

Well might she think that. On her nose was a big speck of dirt, and there were other specks on her back and sides. Her tail, too, that was always so spotless, was now daubed with mola.s.ses and smoke grime from the fire. The China Cat was white now only in spots.

”The Nodding Donkey would hardly speak to me if he saw me now,” she thought. ”I'm glad he isn't here.”

”Now don't yo' touch my cat!” warned Jeff, as he got up from the table, where he had been playing with the toy.

”Whut yo' gwine do?” asked Arabella, who had got over her crying spell.

”I's gwine make a stable fo' my cat,” answered the colored lad.

”Cat's don't live in stables! Dey lives in under de back porch,” said Arabella. ”In a box.”

”Cats do so live in stables, 'cause I done seen 'em!” declared Jeff.

”An' dey catches rats an' mice. I's gwine make a stable fo' my cat whut I done got at de fire an' de p'liceman didn't see me!” and he laughed as he thought of how he had fooled the officer.

Jeff hunted around in the woodpile until he found what he wanted. This was a large cigar box, and with a knife Jeff soon cut a hole in one side, large enough to slip the China Cat through.

”Dere's her stable!” he declared with satisfaction.

As for the China Cat, when she was shut up in the cigar box, she wanted, most dreadfully, to sneeze. For the box smelled very strongly of tobacco, and it made her nose tickle. But she dared not so much as utter a faint _aker-choo_ for fear she would be heard. So the China Cat held back the sneeze, though it made her nose ache, and she was very glad when Jeff took her out of the cigar box stable.