Paddy wouldn't have been contented
without me."
"Oh, no-o-o, oh, no-o-o," wailed Sara Ray lugubriously.
Felix shot a disgusted glance at her.
"I don't see what YOU are making such a fuss about," he said
unfeelingly. "He wasn't your cat."
"But I l-l-oved him," sobbed Sara, "and I always feel bad when my
friends d-do."
"I wish we could believe that cats went to heaven, like people,"
sighed Cecily. "Do you really think it isn't possible?"
Uncle Blair shook his head.
"I'm afraid not. I'd like to think cats have a chance for heaven,
but I can't. There's nothing heavenly about cats, delightful
creatures though they are."
"Blair, I'm really surprised to hear the things you say to the
children," said Aunt Janet severely.
"Surely you wouldn't prefer me to tell them that cats DO go to
heaven," protested Uncle Blair.
"I think it's wicked to carry on about an animal as those children
do," answered Aunt Janet decidedly, "and you shouldn't encourage
them. Here now, children, stop making a fuss. Bury that cat and
get off to your apple picking."
We had to go to our work, but Paddy was not to be buried in any
such off-hand fashion as that. It was agreed that we should bury
him in the orchard at sunset that evening, and Sara Ray, who had
to go home, declared she would be back for it, and implored us to
wait for her if she didn't come exactly on time.
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