The
Story Girl drew his limp body close in her arms. There was a
plaintive little mew--a long quiver--and Paddy's friendly soul had
fared forth to wherever it is that good cats go.
"Well, he's gone," said Dan, turning his back abruptly to us.
"It doesn't seem as if it can be true," sobbed Cecily. "This time
yesterday morning he was full of life."
"He drank two full saucers of cream," moaned Felicity, "and I saw
him catch a mouse in the evening. Maybe it was the last one he
ever caught."
"He did for many a mouse in his day," said Peter, anxious to pay
his tribute to the departed.
"'He was a cat--take him for all in all. We shall not look upon
his like again,'" quoted Uncle Blair.
Felicity and Cecily and Sara Ray cried so much that Aunt Janet
lost patience completely and told them sharply that they would
have something to cry for some day--which did not seem to comfort
them much. The Story Girl shed no tears, though the look in her
eyes hurt more than weeping.
"After all, perhaps it's for the best," she said drearily. "I've
been feeling so badly over having to go away and leave Paddy. No
matter how kind you'd all be to him I know he'd miss me terribly.
He wasn't like most cats who don't care who comes and goes as long
as they get plenty to eat.
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