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Title: The Story of a China Cat

Author: Laura Lee Hope

Illustrator: Harry L. Smith

Release date: September 19, 2006 [eBook #19333]
                Most recently updated: January 1, 2021

Language: English

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Make Believe Stories
(Trademark Registered)

THE STORY OF A CHINA CAT

by

LAURA LEE HOPE

Author of "The Story of a Sawdust Doll," "The Story of a Nodding
Donkey," "The Bobbsey Twins Series," "The Bunny Brown Series," "The Six
Little Bunkers Series," Etc.

Illustrated by Harry L. Smith







New York
Grosset & Dunlap
Publishers
Made in the United States of America


       *       *       *       *       *


BOOKS

BY LAURA LEE HOPE

Durably Bound. Illustrated.

MAKE BELIEVE STORIES

          THE STORY OF A SAWDUST DOLL
          THE STORY OF A WHITE ROCKING HORSE
          THE STORY OF A LAMB ON WHEELS
          THE STORY OF A BOLD TIN SOLDIER
          THE STORY OF A CANDY RABBIT
          THE STORY OF A MONKEY ON A STICK
          THE STORY OF A CALICO CLOWN
          THE STORY OF A NODDING DONKEY
          THE STORY OF A CHINA CAT
          THE STORY OF A PLUSH BEAR


THE BOBBSEY TWINS SERIES

          THE BOBBSEY TWINS
          THE BOBBSEY TWINS IN THE COUNTRY
          THE BOBBSEY TWINS AT THE SEASHORE
          THE BOBBSEY TWINS AT SCHOOL
          THE BOBBSEY TWINS AT SNOW LODGE
          THE BOBBSEY TWINS ON A HOUSEBOAT
          THE BOBBSEY TWINS AT MEADOW BROOK
          THE BOBBSEY TWINS AT HOME
          THE BOBBSEY TWINS IN A GREAT CITY
          THE BOBBSEY TWINS ON BLUEBERRY ISLAND
          THE BOBBSEY TWINS ON THE DEEP BLUE SEA
          THE BOBBSEY TWINS IN WASHINGTON
          THE BOBBSEY TWINS IN THE GREAT WEST
          THE BOBBSEY TWINS AT CEDAR CAMP


THE BUNNY BROWN SERIES

       *       *       *       *       *

THE SIX LITTLE BUNKERS SERIES

       *       *       *       *       *

THE OUTDOOR GIRLS SERIES

       *       *       *       *       *


Grosset & Dunlap, Publishers, New York
Copyright, 1921, by
Grosset & Dunlap




The Story of a China Cat

[Illustration: The China Cat Has a Ride in Nodding Donkey's Wagon.

_Frontispiece_--(_Page 113_)]




CONTENTS

          CHAPTER                             PAGE

             I TOY-SHOP FUN                     1
            II A NICE LITTLE GIRL              14
           III "FIRE! FIRE!"                   28
            IV A LITTLE BLACK BOY              38
             V ROUGH PLAY                      50
            VI A TERRIBLE STORM                63
           VII THE RESCUE                      76
          VIII JENNIE GETS THE CAT             87
            IX AN OLD FRIEND                  101
             X THE GLARING EYES               111




THE STORY OF A CHINA CAT




CHAPTER I

TOY-SHOP FUN


Toot! Toot! Tootity-toot-toot!

"Goodness me! who is blowing the horn?" asked the Talking Doll, as she
sat up on the shelf in the toy shop. "This isn't Friday; and we don't
want any fish!"

"Speak for yourself, if you please," said a large, white China Cat, who
had just finished washing a few specks of dirt off her shiny coat with
her red tongue. "I could enjoy a bit of fish right now."

"I should rather have pie," said the Talking Doll. "But who blew the
horn? That is what I'd like to know. No one has a horn in this toy shop
that I know anything about."

"It wasn't a horn--that was a trumpet," said another voice. "I'll blow
it again!"

Then there sounded a jolly noise through the quiet toy shop, which was
in darkness except for one electric light in the middle of the store.

Toot! Toot! Tootity-toot-toot! echoed the merry notes.

"What a pretty sound," said the Jumping Jack, as he jerked his arms and
legs up and down, for he had just awakened from his long day of sleep.

"Isn't it nice," agreed Tumbling Tom, a queer toy who never could stand
up, because he was made in such a funny way that he always fell down. "I
wonder if there is going to be a parade?"

"Who is blowing that horn, anyway?" asked the Talking Doll.

"I tell you it isn't a horn--it's a trumpet, and I am blowing it," said
a voice in the front part of the toy store. "I came in only to-day, but
I thought perhaps you other toys would like a little music, so I tuned
up my trumpet. But please don't call it a horn. I am not a fish man!"

With that there came walking along the shelf, from the front part of the
store, a little man wearing a blue coat, dark red trousers, and a hat
with a long, sweeping plume. I say he was a little man, but I mean he
was a toy, dressed up like a man such as you see in fairy stories. In
his hand he carried a little golden trumpet.

As he walked along the shelf, where the other toys stood, the Trumpeter,
for such he was, blew another blast on his golden instrument.

And the blast was such a jolly one that every toy in the store felt like
dancing or singing. The Jumping Jack worked his arms and legs faster
than they had ever jerked about before. The Talking Doll swayed on her
feet as though waltzing, and even the China Cat beat time with her
tail.

"That certainly was very nice," said the Talking Doll, when the
Trumpeter had finished the tune. "Did you say you just came here to be
one of us?"

"Just to-day," was the answer. "I came in a large box, straight from the
workshop of Santa Claus, at the North Pole, and I--"

"Oh! The North Pole!" suddenly mewed the China Cat.

"What's the matter? Does it make you chilly to hear about the North
Pole, where I came from?" asked the Trumpeter.

"No," answered the Cat. "I was just thinking of a friend of mine who
once lived there. You remember him," she added, turning to the Jumping
Jack. "I mean the Nodding Donkey."

"Of course I remember him!" said the Jumping Jack. "I should say I did!
A most jolly chap, always bowing to you in the most friendly way. He
isn't here any more."

"No, he was bought for a little lame boy who had to go on crutches,"
said the Talking Doll. "I remember the Nodding Donkey very well. I say
he was bought for a little lame boy. But the truth of the matter is that
the lame boy got well, and now is just like other boys. Once the Nodding
Donkey's leg was broken and he was brought back here for Mr. Mugg to
fix."

"Who is Mr. Mugg?" asked the Trumpeter, as he rubbed his horn to make it
more shiny. "Excuse me for asking, but I have not been here very long,
you know," he added.

"Mr. Horatio Mugg is the man who keeps this toy store," explained the
China Cat. "He and his daughters, Angelina and Geraldine, keep us toys
in order, dust us off and sell us whenever any one comes in to buy
playthings."

"Then it seems I am not to stay here always," went on the Trumpeter.
"Well, I like a jolly life, going about from place to place. I had fun
at the North Pole, and now I hope I shall have some fun here. That's why
I blew my trumpet--to start you toys into life."

"We always come to life after dark, and make believe we are alive when
no one sees us," explained the China Cat. "That is one of the things we
are allowed to do. But as soon as daylight shines, or when any one comes
into the store to look at us, we must turn back into toys that can move
only when we are wound up. That is, all except me. I have no springs
inside me--I move of myself whenever make-believe time comes," she
added, and she switched her tail from side to side.

"Well, I have springs inside me," said the Talking Doll, "and also a
little phonograph. When it is wound up I can say 'papa' and 'mama' and
'I am hungry.' But when we are by ourselves, as we are now, I can say
what I please."

"I, too, have springs inside me," said the Trumpeter. "That is how I
blow my trumpet. But now, as we are by ourselves and it is night, why
not have some fun? Let's do something. Perhaps, as a newcomer, I should
let some one else start it. But I could not bear to lie on the shelf,
doing nothing, especially when it is so near the jolly Christmas season.
So I just blew my trumpet to awaken you all."

"And I'm glad you did," said the Jumping Jack. "I say let's have some
fun! Shall I show you how well I can jump?" he asked. "If this is your
first night here," he said to the Trumpeter, "you do not know all the
tricks I can do."

"I should be most happy to see you do some," replied the Trumpeter.

"Oh, that Jumping Jack. He thinks he is the only one who can jump!"
whispered a Jack in the Box to Tumbling Tom. "If I could get out of this
box I'd show him some jumps that would make him open his eyes!"

"And as for tumbles!" said Tom. "Why, I can beat him all to pieces! But
we must be polite, you know, especially before strangers--I mean the
Trumpeter. Don't let's have a quarrel."

"All right," agreed the Jack in the Box, or Jack Box, as he was called
for short.

"Now watch me jump!" cried Jumping Jack. "Clear the shelf, if you
please. The Trumpeter has never seen any of my circus tricks!"

So the toys in the shop of Mr. Horatio Mugg got ready to have a jolly
night. Just as the China Cat had said, the toys had the power of making
believe. They could pretend to come to life, and talk among themselves,
and do things they never would think of doing in the daytime. This was
when no human eyes saw them.

"Attention now, everybody!" called the Jumping Jack, just like the
ringmaster in a circus. "First I will climb to the top of the highest
shelf, and then I will jump down."

"Won't you hurt yourself?" asked the Trumpeter.

"Oh, no, I'll land on a big rubber ball and bounce," the Jumping Jack
answered. "If you want to, Trumpeter," he added, "you can blow a blast
on your horn to start me off. It will be more exciting if you do that."

"All right," agreed the new toy.

Up climbed the Jumping Jack until he stood on the very highest shelf of
the store--the shelf where all the extra drums were kept out of the way.

"It makes me dizzy to look at him," said the Talking Doll, and she
covered her eyes with her hand.

"Yes, suppose he should fall," said the China Cat. "But he must show
off, I suppose. I'd rather have less exciting fun--such as a game of
tag."

"Hush!" begged the Trumpeter. "He is ready to jump, I think. Hello
there, Jack!" he called to the toy on the top shelf. "Are you ready?"

"All ready!" was the answer. "Blow your trumpet, and I'll jump!"

The Trumpeter raised his golden horn to his lips.

Toot! Toot! Tootity-toot-toot! came the blast.

"Here I come!" shouted the Jumping Jack.

"Oh, dear! Tell me when it is all over!" begged the Talking Doll,
putting both her hands over her eyes.

Down, down, down, came the Jumping Jack, past shelf after shelf of toys,
until he landed with a bounce on a rubber ball on the very lowest shelf,
where the Cat and the Doll stood.

Up in the air bounced the Jack again, for the ball was like the springs
of a bed. Then he came down upon the ball a second time and bounced up
once more, and this time he came down on the shelf.

"Ouch! Mew! Mew!" cried the China Cat.

"What's the matter? Did the Jumping Jack fall and break his leg like the
Nodding Donkey?" asked the Talking Doll. "Oh, I dare not look! Tell me
about it!"

"Of course he didn't break his leg!" said the Cat. "But he stepped on my
tail; that's what he did! Right on my tail! I hope it isn't broken," she
went on, as she looked carefully at the tip.

"Oh, I beg your pardon! I am so sorry!" exclaimed the Jumping Jack. "I
didn't mean to do that. The ball rolled, and I slipped."

"Well, there is no great harm done, I am glad to say," said the China
Cat, again carefully looking at the tip of her tail. "But if you had
landed a little harder you would have broken it, and then I should be a
damaged toy, and Mr. Mugg would have had to sell me for half price."

"But didn't I do a good jump?" asked the Jack of the Trumpeter.

"One of the finest I ever saw," was the answer. "But suppose we play
something more quiet."

"Let's have a dance!" proposed the Talking Doll. "The Trumpeter can play
for us. I love to dance!"

[Illustration: The Jumping Jack Danced With the China Cat.

_Page 12_]

"So do I," said a Soldier Captain, who was one of a number of wooden
soldiers in a box. "May I have a waltz with you, Miss Doll?"

"Yes," she answered. "Thank you, Captain."

And while the Trumpeter played, the toys danced. The Jumping Jack danced
with the China Cat, but she said his style was jerky. Then Tumbling Tom
danced with the white cat, but Tom kept falling down all the while so
that dance was, really, not a success.

"Let's play tag," said the Talking Doll after a while. "I am sure the
Trumpeter is tired of playing so many tunes for us."

"All right! Tag will be fun!" agreed the China Cat. "I'll be it.
Scatter now, so I shall have to run to tag you."

The toys spread themselves about the shelves of Mr. Mugg's shop, and the
China Cat, whose shiny coat was as white as snow, was just getting ready
to run after the Trumpeter when suddenly the toy pussy gave a loud mew.

"Take her away! Take her away! Don't let her come near me!" cried the
China Cat. "Oh, Captain!" she exclaimed to the wooden soldier, "don't
let her get near me! Take her away!" and the China Cat acted so
strangely that the other toys did not know what to think.




CHAPTER II

A NICE LITTLE GIRL


Everybody had been so happy and jolly in the toy shop, and there was so
much fun going on, that when the China Cat acted so oddly and mewed so
loudly, there was great excitement for a time.

"Don't tell me there is a fire!" cried a little Ballet Dancer, whose
skirts of tissue paper and tulle would be sure to flare up the first
thing in case of a blaze.

"No, there isn't a fire," said a toy Policeman. "If there was I should
turn in an alarm."

"But what is the matter?" asked the Talking Doll. "Did that crazy
Jumping Jack again step on the China Cat's tail?"

"Indeed I did not," answered the Jumping Jack.

And all this while the China Cat kept mewing.

"Take her away! Don't let her come near me! The black will rub off, I'm
sure, and I shall be ruined and damaged. Oh, take her away, Soldier
Captain!" and the China Cat, in her white coat, snuggled as close as she
could to the brave officer with his shiny sword.

"What is the matter? Who is black? Please tell me what to do so I can
help you," begged the Captain.

"Why, don't you see!" exclaimed the China Cat. "That black doll is
coming to play tag with us! She belongs on the other side of the store,
among the Hallowe'en novelties! If she rubs up against me she'll get me
all black, and I can't stand it to be dirty!"

All the other toys glanced toward the toy at which the China Cat pointed
with one paw. Walking along the edge of the shelf was a fuzzy-haired
black Doll, her face as shiny as the stove pipe. She was called a Topsy
Doll.

"Whut's de mattah heah?" asked Topsy, talking just as a colored doll
should talk. "Don't yo' all want fo' me to come an' play tag wif yo'?"

"We'd love to have you," said the Jumping Jack, who, being all sorts of
colors, did not mind one more. "But our China Cat is afraid some of your
black might rub off on her."

"Ha! Ha! Ha!" laughed Topsy. "Dat suah am funny! Why, my black doesn't
come off! I spects maybe I's white inside, but de black on de outside
don't come off! Ha! Ha! Ha!"

"Really, doesn't it? Won't you smut me all up?" asked the China Cat.

"No, I won't! Hones' to goodness I won't!" promised the Topsy Doll.
"Some folks do say I's terrible mischievous but I can't help it. I
growed up dat way, I reckon!"

With that Topsy bent over and pulled one of the ears of Tumbling Tom.

"Hey there! Stop it!" cried that toy, and he leaned over to tickle
Topsy, but he leaned too far and down he fell.

"Ha! Ha! Ha!" laughed the black Doll. "Golly, I's mischievous; but mah
black won't rub off! Look!"

Topsy took up from the shelf a piece of the white paper Mr. Mugg used to
wrap up the toys when they were purchased. Topsy rubbed this piece of
paper on her black, shiny cheek as hard as she could rub it. Then she
held it out to the China Cat. The paper was as white as before.

"See!" cried Topsy. "Mah black won't rub off! Now can't I play tag wif
yo' all?"

"Oh, yes, let her; do!" begged the Talking Doll. "She's so cute!"

"Of course she may play if she will not smut me," said the China Cat.
"Please don't believe I'm fussy," she went on; "but I shall never be
sold if I do not keep myself white and clean. I thought at first that
Topsy had been down in the coal bin."

"No'm," answered that colored Doll. "I's awful mischievous, but I don't
play in no coal. No indeedy!"

"I'm glad of that," said the China Cat. "Now I'll be it, and see if I
can tag any of you. Look out! I'm coming!"

With that the white Cat began chasing about on the shelves, trying to
tag the other toys, who, you may be sure, kept well out of her reach.

"No fair tagging with your tail--that is so long!" called the Talking
Doll, as she dodged around the corner of the Jack in the Box, who could
not get loose to join the fun. "You must tag us with your paws."

"Yes, I'll do that," agreed the China Cat. "I'll only tag you with my
paws. And I think I'll tag you right now!" she called to the Topsy Doll.

"Oh, ho! Yo' all here has got to be mighty lively to tag me!" the black
toy laughed, and, just as the China Cat was about to touch her, Topsy
dodged to one side and the China Cat nearly slipped off the shelf.

"Oh, my dear! you must be careful," cried the Talking Doll. "Think what
would happen if you hit the floor!"

"Oh, I don't dare think of it!" mewed the China Cat, with a shudder. "I
should be broken to bits!"

So after that the Cat did not run quite so fast. Topsy was a very lively
little doll. She skipped here and there, and kept the other toys
laughing at her funny tricks and the queer way her kinky hair bobbed
about her head.

So the game went on, and at last the China Cat managed to touch the
Jumping Jack with her paw.

"Tag! You're it!" cried the China Cat. "Now it's your turn to do the
chasing, Mr. Jack!"

The game went on faster than ever, and such jolly fun as there was you
never would have dreamed could happen in a toy shop, unless you could
have seen it yourself. But of course that is not allowed. If you had so
much as peeked in with one eye, all the toys would have become as quiet
as a chocolate mouse.

At last they grew tired of such exciting fun. One after another had
taken a turn at being it for tag.

"I know what let's do," suggested the Soldier Captain, after they had
rested. "Let's have some riddles."

"Hi!" cried Topsy, "am riddles good to eat?"

"No, indeed," answered the Talking Doll. "Riddles are something you have
to guess."

"Den I mus' be a riddle!" said the colored Doll.

"What makes you think so?" asked the China Cat.

"'Cause some ob de toys in mah pa't of de store says as how I kept 'em
_guessin'_," was the answer. "Dey done say dey nebber know whut I'm
gwine to do nex'. I suah mus' be a riddle."

"Oh, no, that isn't a riddle," the Soldier Captain explained. "A riddle
is like a puzzle. For instance, I ask you what has four legs, and yet
can't walk?"

"Hu! Dey ain't _nothin'_ whut has fo' legs an' can't walk!" declared
Topsy. "Dat's silly! I's got only _two_ legs, but I can walk when nobody
looks at me. An' dat Noah's Ark Elephant, he's got _fo'_ legs, an' he
can walk. What is dat has fo' legs an' can't walk I axes yo', Mr.
Soldier Captain?"

"A table has four legs and yet it can't walk," laughed the wooden
officer. "That's a riddle, Topsy. Now see if you can tell one."

So the Topsy Doll and the other toys began to think of riddles, asking
them of one another. But, somehow or other, the China Cat was very still
and quiet. She did not enter into this fun as she had into the game of
tag.

"What's the matter?" asked the Jumping Jack, when he had guessed a funny
riddle about a little green hen. "Are you watching for mice, China Cat?
There are some little ones, made of cloth and wood over in the novelty
department where Topsy came from."

"No, I am not thinking of mice," answered the China Cat. "To tell you
the truth, Mr. Jumping Jack, I was thinking of the Nodding Donkey. He
came back here, you know, to have his leg fixed, and he spoke about how
happy he was with the little lame boy, who, I'm glad to know, is lame no
longer. I was just wondering if I would go to a nice home such as he
has."

"I suppose all us toys will be sold, one after another," said the
Jumping Jack. "But it is so nice here that I dread to think of going
away."

"Yes, it is nice in Mr. Mugg's store," the China Cat agreed. "But I
suppose we must do as we are told. Dear Nodding Donkey! How I should
like to see him again. I wonder--"

"Hush! Quiet, everybody! Back to your shelves!" suddenly cried Tumbling
Tom. "Morning is about to come and Mr. Mugg and his daughters will soon
be here. They must never catch us moving about!"

Such a scramble as there was! The China Cat, the Talking Doll, the
Trumpeter, the Policeman, the Fireman, the Jumping Jack, Tumbling Tom
and Jack Box all made haste to get on the shelves where they belonged.

The Topsy Doll, with her kinky hair, darted toward the novelty
department.

"I's glad yo' all let me play wif yo'," she said in her queer talk. "An'
I didn't get any black on yo'; did I, Miss China Cat?"

"No, indeed. You were very nice," was the answer. "Come and play with us
again."

Then it was time for the toys to be very still and quiet, for the door
of the store opened, and in came Mr. Mugg.

"Ah, this is going to be a lovely day!" said the jolly toy-shop man. "I
shall do a good business to-day!"

A little later in came his daughters, Geraldine and Angelina. They began
dusting and setting the store to rights for the day's business.

"Oh, my dear! look at this," said Angelina to her sister.

"What is the matter?" asked Geraldine, pausing with a feather duster
under her arm.

"Why, the lovely white China Cat has a speck of dirt on her back," said
Angelina. "I must have forgotten to dust her yesterday."

"Oh, my!" thought the China Cat, who heard what was said, though she
could not turn around to lick off the speck with her red tongue, "some
black must have come off Topsy after all."

"Oh, no, it isn't dirt," said Angelina, as she took the Cat down to look
more closely at her. "It's just a little speck of black feather from my
duster. It must have just got on."

"Oh, I'm so glad of that!" thought the white Cat. "I wouldn't want to
think that Topsy's black rubbed off."

Soon the store was in readiness for customers, and among the first to
enter that morning was a little girl. She was with a lady, who was the
little girl's aunt.

"Now, Jennie," said the aunt, as Mr. Mugg came forward to wait on them,
"what present would you like? You may pick out anything you please."

"Oh, Aunt Clara! How lovely of you!" cried Jennie Moore, for that was
her name. "Let me see now. What would I like best?"

While Jennie was looking along the shelves of toys her aunt said in a
low tone to Mr. Mugg:

"Jennie has been such a good girl, helping her mother who was ill, that
I promised her any toy she wished."

"That is very kind of you, I am sure," said Mr. Mugg, rubbing his hands
and looking over the tops of his glasses. "We have many toys here for
good little girls, and for good boys, too. Not long ago I sold a Nodding
Donkey to a lame boy, and, would you believe me; that boy isn't lame at
all now," and Mr. Mugg laughed, and Aunt Clara laughed also.

But Jennie was looking along the shelves of toys. The China Cat looked
down, and when she saw what a nice little girl Jennie was, so neat and
clean, the China Cat thought to herself:

"If I have to be taken away and belong to some child, I think I should
like to go to Jennie's house. I'm sure she would be kind to me and love
me, and I would love her."

Jennie seemed to be thinking the same thing about the China Cat, for
suddenly she reached up and took down the white toy.

"Here, Aunt Clara, this is what I would like," said Jennie.

She walked toward her aunt and Mr. Mugg with the China Cat in her hand,
but, just before she reached them, Jennie tripped over a velocipede on
the floor, and seemed about to fall.

"Oh, Jennie, don't drop that China Cat, whatever you do!" cried her
aunt.




CHAPTER III

"FIRE! FIRE!"


Had Jennie Moore stumbled and dropped the China Cat to the floor of the
toy shop that would have been the end of this book. For if the Cat had
fallen she surely would have been broken to bits. And, though Mr. Mugg
might have been able to glue the pieces together again, the China Cat
never would have been like herself, and there would be no story about
her.

But, as it happened, there was a soft footstool just in front of the
velocipede over which Jennie stumbled, and the little girl fell down on
that, still holding the China Cat in her hands. Not once did Jennie let
go of the toy she had taken off the shelf.

"Oh, my dear little girl! I hope you did not hurt yourself!" cried Mr.
Horatio Mugg, as he sprang forward to raise Jennie from the footstool,
across which she had fallen.

"And I hope she hasn't broken the China Cat!" exclaimed Aunt Clara.

"Well," replied Mr. Mugg, with a kind smile, "breaking the China Cat
would 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 is now night, no one can see us, and we can
do as we please. Let's play tag again," said a number of toys.

"Where is the China Cat?" asked Tumbling Tom. "We don't want to leave
her out of the good times."

"Oh, I'm here!" mewed the white pussy. "I'm just sort of hidden away so
I will not be sold. I am to go to a little girl named Jennie Moore."

"Hum! Jennie Moore! Seems to me I heard her spoken of by the father of
the little lame boy when the Nodding Donkey was brought back here to
have his leg mended," said the Jumping Jack. "Wouldn't it be funny, Miss
China Cat, if you should go to live in a house near your friend, the
Nodding Donkey?"

"It would be very nice, I think," said the China Cat. "But I have
something new to suggest," she went on, as she moved out near the edge
of the shelf. "Instead of playing tag, why can't all of us go down into
the basement?"

"What for?" asked Tumbling Tom.

"I heard it said that a new lot of toys was put down in the basement
to-day," went on the China Cat. "Let's go down and call on them. It's
always polite to call on new neighbors, you know," she added.

"Yes, let's do that!" shouted the Trumpeter. "We'll make them feel at
home."

So down the cellar stairs trooped the China Cat, the Talking Doll, the
Jumping Jack, Jack Box and many other toys.

Clip! Clap! Clump! they went down the stairs.

"Hello, new toys!" mewed the China Cat. "We have come to call on you!"

"That is very kind of you," said a Red Fireman, who was one of the new
toys that had been taken from the boxes. "We were just wondering what
sort of place this was--so dark and gloomy."

"Oh, this is the basement," said the China Cat. "The toy store is up
above. You'll be brought up there with us, soon, we hope. But we came to
visit you and cheer you up."

"And we are very glad," said a Cloth Doll. "I was getting tired of lying
here on my back."

"Let us play some games," proposed the China Cat. "We can ask riddles,
have a game of tag, or, those of you who are unpacked, can join in a
race."

"I say let's have a race!" cried the Engineer of a toy train of cars on
the floor. "I haven't had a race with my engine and cars since Mr. Mugg
lifted us out of our box. Come on! I'll get up steam and have a race."

Before any one could stop him, the Engineer started his train of iron
cars over the floor of the basement.

Toot! Toot! he blew the whistle.

Suddenly there was a crackling sound and then a flash of flame.

"What's the matter!" cried the China Cat.

"Oh, I have run over a box of matches!" exclaimed the toy Engineer.
"They have begun to blaze and the straw from the packing cases is
catching! Oh, look what I did, but I didn't mean to!"

Surely enough, the toy cars had run over the box of matches Mr. Mugg had
dropped, and now the flames and smoke were filling the basement of the
toy shop.

"Fire! Fire! Fire!" cried the toy Policeman, banging with his club.




CHAPTER IV

A LITTLE BLACK BOY


So many things began happening at once in the basement of the toy shop,
after the train of cars ran over the box of matches, that the China Cat,
the Jumping Jack and even the Policeman, who was supposed to keep order,
never knew half that took place. All the toys knew was that they began
to choke with the smoke from the burning straw, and some of them, who
were too close to the box of blazing matches, felt the heat very much.

[Illustration: "We Must Hurry Out!" Mewed the China Cat.

_Page 38_]

"Oh, we must hurry out of here!" mewed the China Cat.

"I should say so!" exclaimed the Policeman. "Come on! Move lively! No
loitering!" he cried, as he had done that time when he tickled the
Nodding Donkey in the ribs with the club. "Everybody get out of the way
of the fire!" went on the toy Policeman, swinging his club. "Where are
the engines and the firemen?" he called.

"Here we are! I'm coming," cried an excited voice, and there clattered
along the basement floor of the toy shop a little fire engine, on which
was perched a toy Fireman.

"Let me get at the blaze!" cried this Fireman, who was dressed all in
red. "Who started it, anyhow?"

"I did," answered the Engineer of the train of iron cars. "I ran over a
box of matches, but I did not mean to."

"Well, it is going to be a bad fire!" said the Fireman. "Everybody must
get out."

"Except you and me," added the Policeman, "I have ordered them all back
to their shelves, but you and I must stay here. I will remain on guard
while you put out the fire!" he said.

"Right!" cried the brave Fireman, as he got down off his engine.

By this time the straw had set fire to some of the wooden boxes which
Mr. Mugg had opened that day to take out the toys. The burning straw and
wood made more smoke than ever, so that the China Cat choked, and the
Talking Doll was coughing so hard she could not speak.

"Hurry with that water!" ordered the Policeman. "Squirt a lot of water
from the hose on the blaze, Mr. Fireman!"

But the sad part of it was that there was no water in the toy engine.
They are not made that way, though sometimes boys, who get engines for
presents, put water in them to play with. But though the Fireman ran out
his tiny hose, and pointed it straight at the blaze, no water spurted
from the nozzle.

"It is getting too hot here for me!" cried the Policeman. "I'm afraid we
can't do anything, Mr. Fireman. We had better run upstairs with the
rest of the toys!"

"What about the toys still in the boxes--those that Mr. Mugg has not
unpacked?" asked the Fireman. "The toys still in the boxes can not get
out to run upstairs."

"No, that's so," admitted the Policeman, stepping back out of the smoke,
and scratching his nose with his club. "What shall we do?"

"I'll get my ax and chop open the boxes," the toy Fireman answered. "We
fire-fighters have to do that. If only I had water in my engine I could
soon put out this blaze."

But there was no use wishing that now, and, just as the Fireman had
said, the poor toys, still nailed up in the boxes, were likely to have a
hard time.

"Let us out! Please let us out!" begged the Dolls, the toy Dogs, the toy
Cats and the other playthings, all shut up as they were. They could
smell the smoke, if they could not see the blaze.

"I'll save you! The Policeman and I will get you out!" cried the brave
Fireman, as he dashed back to his engine to get the small ax which hung
there.

Meanwhile the China Cat, the Talking Doll and some of the Jumping Jacks
were hurrying up the basement steps much faster than they had gone down.
They wanted to get out of the fire and smoke.

"If only the Nodding Donkey were here, I'm sure he could have ridden me
on his back out of danger," thought the China Cat. "He was very fond of
me, and I like him. But he is not here!"

There was such a crowd of toys, all trying to get up the basement stairs
at once, and the smoke was so thick now, that the Policeman and Fireman
had also to run back, and there might have been a sad accident, only
that the regular fire department men came along just then.

Some one in the street had seen smoke coming from the basement of the
toy shop.

"Fire! Fire! Fire!" was the cry, and this time it was a real shout, and
not such as the toys had given. Then the man who had smelled and seen
the smoke ran and pulled an alarm box.

There was a clang of bells and loud toots of a whistle. There was a rush
of many feet, and then a loud crash as the real firemen burst open the
door of the toy shop.

"The fire is in the basement!" cried one fireman, wearing a rubber coat
and hat to keep himself dry for the water would soon be spraying from
the hose of the real, big engine.

"Yes, it's in the basement," said a real policeman, who had arrived
almost as soon as had the firemen. "And Mr. Mugg has a lot of new toys
down there. We must carry them out for him!"

Of course as soon as the door of the shop had been burst open, and the
real firemen and policemen had come in, not a toy dared move or speak,
for they would have been seen.

So they had to stay just where they were. Some were half way up the
basement stairs; the China Cat had just reached the middle of the first
floor, when she had to come to a stop; the Talking Doll was on the top
step of the stairs, and there she had to stay. It was there that a
fireman saw her as he was about to rush down into the basement. The
firemen carried lanterns so they could see in the darkened store.

"The toys are scattered all about," said the fireman, picking up the
Talking Doll. "There must have been an explosion!" Of course he did not
know that the toys themselves had gone down into the basement to play,
and that the fire was caused by the train running over the box of
matches.

"We must carry out some of these toys before we begin to squirt the
water, or they will all be spoiled," said the fireman who had picked up
the Talking Doll. "Water will ruin them as much as the blaze. Come on,
boys!" he called. "Save the toys!"

Here and there about the store, and down in the basement, rushed the
firemen and policemen. Toys that were scattered about were hastily piled
in open boxes. Then the boxes were dragged out on the sidewalk. Quite a
crowd gathered in the street, for more engines, firemen and policemen
were arriving all the while.

"Oh, this is dreadful!" thought the China Cat, as a whiff of smoke blew
in her face. "I shall be all blackened and ruined!"

Clang! Clang! rang the bells on the real fire engine. Toot! Toot! blew
the whistles.

"Here is a toy cat! Put her in that box!" called one fireman to another,
who was dragging out a wooden box into which he had tossed the Talking
Doll, a Jumping Jack and a dozen Green Pigs. "Take them out; and then we
must begin to use the water! The fire is getting too hot!"

The China Cat could feel the heat, and she noticed that the red color on
the cheeks of a Painted Doll was all running down, making her look very
streaked.

"Oh, what a bump!" thought the China Cat, as she felt herself tossed
into the packing box. She landed in between the Talking Doll and a
Jumping Jack.

"Out on the sidewalk with that box!" cried the fireman, and he and some
others began dragging out the one in which was the China Cat.

There had been a great deal of noise and excitement in the store, but
there was five times as much noise out on the sidewalk. Just as the box
containing the China Cat was dragged toward the door, a shower of water
sprinkled down.

"Oh, dear me!" thought the China Cat. "I can't bear to be wet, and now
it is raining! But I hope it will wash from me some of the black smoke."

However, it was not rain that the China Cat felt, but water from the
hose of a real engine. The firemen were beginning to squirt water on the
blaze, to save as much as they could of Mr. Mugg's store and of his
toys, and some of the water from the hose sprayed on the China Cat.

By this time it was getting to be morning, and crowds of men and boys,
with a few women, on their way to early work, stopped to look at the
fire. Smoke was pouring out of Mr. Mugg's basement, and some one had
hurried to the toy-shopkeeper's house to awaken him and his daughters
and tell them what was happening.

"Oh, look at the toys!" cried a group of boys, as they came running up
the street to see where the fire was. "Oh, look at 'em!"

"Keep back now! Let those toys alone!" warned a policeman who was on
guard.

Most of the boys stepped back off the sidewalk, but when the policeman's
back was turned a little black boy, who stood somewhat apart from the
others, sneaked up to the packing box into which the China Cat and the
Talking Doll had been thrown.

"Golly, what a lot ob toys!" murmured the little negro boy, whose name
was Jeff. "I reckon as how I kin git one fo' nuffin, if dat p'liceman
don't see me."

Jeff, who was dirty and ragged, watched his chance. He had come from his
home in a tenement house, not far from the fire, and his eyes glistened
when he saw so many toys out on the street.

"Um-ah! Jest look at 'em!" murmured Jeff. "Golly! I kin git one as easy
as not outen dat open box! Wait till dat p'liceman turns around."

Jeff watched his chance. The policeman on guard moved off to one side.
In an instant Jeff, the dirty little black boy, sneaked up, and,
thrusting in his hand, which was black with dirt as well as being
covered with black skin, he took up the pure, white China Cat.

"Dis am just whut I want!" whispered Jeff.

"Oh, my, how dirty he is! Oh, I can't bear to have him touch me!"
thought the China Cat. "I dread dirt more than I do water! Oh, what
shall I do?"

But she had no chance to do anything just then, for, with a quick
motion, Jeff, the colored boy, thrust the China Cat inside his dirty,
ragged blouse.

"Oh, I'll be smothered!" thought the poor China Cat. "What a dreadful
fate to be taken away by a dirty boy! And only an hour ago I was so
happy! Oh, dear! Oh, dear! Oh, dear!"




CHAPTER V

ROUGH PLAY


You can just imagine how the China Cat felt. Always so clean and white,
always washing herself if she found the least speck of dirt on her,
always keeping as much as possible away from dust and grime--and now to
be spattered with water, blackened by the smoke of the fire, and finally
thrust inside the soiled blouse of a not very clean boy! Oh, it was
terrible!

The China Cat said it was, over and over again; to herself, of course,
for she dared not speak aloud, nor so much as mew, while Jeff, the
colored boy, had her. And Jeff certainly had the China Cat.

Jeff's eyes sparkled with delight as he pressed the toy up under his
blouse, out of sight, and then he darted away from the pile of toys, on
the sidewalk--toys that had hastily been carried out of the burning
store.

"Hi, golly! I's done gone fool dat p'liceman," murmured Jeff, as he
stepped off the sidewalk and made his way out of the crowd in front of
the burning store. "He tole me to keep away from dem toys! But I sneaks
up when he isn't lookin', an' I gits de bestest toy ob all! Golly! I's
smarter dan a p'liceman, I is!"

Jeff grinned, showing two rows of white teeth in his black face. Indeed,
Jeff's teeth were the only clean things about him, it seemed. At least
they were white, though I can not say that he ever used a tooth brush.
His teeth were as white as was the China Cat when she was her very
cleanest. But she was not at all clean now. And you know how unhappy
this made her feel.

There was so much excitement now in front of Mr. Mugg's toy shop, with
the fire, the smoke, the water, the fire engines, the firemen and the
police, to say nothing of the crowd that had gathered, that no one paid
any attention to Jeff. Away he sneaked, with the China Cat under his
blouse.

"I's smart, I is!" said Jeff to himself, grinning. "I could 'a' tooken a
lot ob toys; but I liked dis Cat bestest ob all. She's so white!"

Jeff did not mind the black specks from the fire that had settled on the
cat, and he cared nothing about the grimy marks his own dirty hands had
made.

It was broad daylight now, and the firemen were getting the best of the
fire. By pouring a lot of water from their hose down in the basement,
the blaze had been put out, though there was still much smoke.

Jeff, the negro boy, shuffled off down the street on his way back to his
home. When he was nearly there he met some other colored boys.

One of these lads, named Sam, saw that Jeff was hiding something under
his blouse.

"Hello, Jeff!" called Sam. "Whut yo' got there? Something good to eat?"

"Nope, 'tain't nuffin to eat!" declared Jeff. He and Sam talked negro
talk, of course, just like Topsy, the colored doll, whom the China Cat
at first thought would rub off some of her black.

"Whut yo' got then?" asked Sam. "Show me!"

"Yes, show what yo' got, Jeff!" cried the other colored boys.

"Oh, I ain't got nuffin much!" Jeff answered, as he moved away from Sam
and the other boys. Sometimes they had taken things away from Jeff, and
Jeff was afraid that was what they were now going to do. Inside the
blouse of the colored boy the China Cat heard what was said, but she
could see nothing.

"I wonder what is going to happen?" she thought.

"Jeff has got something!" declared Sam to his chums. "Let's catch him
an' take it away!"

"All right!" agreed the other colored boys. They made a rush for Jeff,
but he was too quick for them. Pressing his hands over his blouse, at
the spot where the China Cat was stuffed, so she would not bounce out,
Jeff ran down the street.

"I's got something yo' can't have!" he cried. "An' yo' all can't catch
me, an' git it; dat's whut yo' can't!"

Away he sped, and he was such a good runner that the other boys could
not come up to him. Around the corner of one street, down another and up
a third ran Jeff, and then he darted down the stairs into what was
almost a cellar, though it was called a basement. It was here, in some
poor, miserable rooms, that Jeff lived with his brothers and sisters.

"Whut de mattah, Jeff?" asked his mother, a large, fat, colored
washerwoman. "Am de p'licemans after yo' a'gin?"

Jeff had run so hard that he was out of breath, and could not speak for
a few moments. Hidden as she was, inside his blouse, the China Cat could
feel Jeff's heart pumping hard, and notice his rapid breathing.

"Dear me!" thought the China Cat, "this is a dreadful state of affairs.
I wonder if I am ever to get out of this smothering place. I don't like
it, cooped up like this! I want to get out in the air, and have
Geraldine or Angelina wash me!"

You see the China Cat did not know all that had happened to her. She
hoped she would soon be back in Mr. Mugg's store, washed nice and clean,
and set on a shelf. But the store of poor Mr. Mugg was in a sad state
now, even though the fire had been put out.

As Jeff's breathing became easier, his brothers and sisters, who were
just getting up out of their beds, crowded around him. His mother, who
was getting breakfast, asked him again:

"Jeff, am de p'licemans tryin' to git yo'?"

"Nope!" answered the colored boy. "I runned 'cause I wanted to git away
from Sam Brown an' his crowd. Dey was gwine to take mah cat away from
me!"

"Yo' _cat_?" cried Jeff's mother. "Where'd yo' git a _cat_?"

Jeff wiggled and twisted as he reached his hand inside his blouse and
pulled out the China Cat.

"Dere she am!" he cried, holding her up. "Dere's mah pussy! I done got
her at de fire, an' de p'liceman didn't see me!"

For a moment there was silence in the dingy basement tenement where Jeff
lived. His brothers and sisters, all smaller than he, crowded up around
him as he held the China Cat high in the air.

"Ain't she jess boo'ful!" murmured one little black girl.

"Kin she wiggle her haid, like I done see a Donkey shake his haid in de
toy shop?" asked one of Jeff's brothers.

"Lemme hab her!" pleaded the littlest black girl of all.

"No, suh!" declared Jeff. "Dis am mah white pussy, dat I done took outen
de fire an' de p'liceman didn't see me, an' I's gwine to keep her, I
is!"

He held the China Cat higher above his head.

"Oh, mercy me!" thought the poor white pussy, "I hope he doesn't let me
fall. Oh, how miserable I am! So dirty, and in such an unpleasant place!
I thought I'd be back in the toy shop with the Talking Doll and my other
friends!"

The China Cat did not at first know where she was when Jeff pulled her
out from beneath his blouse. It had been dark in there, but it was
lighter in the kitchen, and this confused the toy animal. But when she
had a chance to look around, held up high in the air as she was, she did
not at all like her new home. And she was very much afraid that Jeff
would let her fall.

But the colored boy did not. He set the China Cat on the table, right
down in a little puddle of molasses that had been spilled when the table
was set for breakfast.

"Oh, dear me, this is worse and worse!" thought the China Cat, as she
felt the sticky stuff on her tail. "I shall never get clean and white
again now!"

As for Jeff and his brothers and sisters, they did not seem to mind a
bit of molasses on the table. Indeed, one of the little colored girls
put her finger in the sweet, sticky puddle, and then she put her finger
in her mouth.

"Dat's good!" she murmured. "Me 'ikes 'lasses, me does!"

But the others were more interested in the China Cat. They stared at her
with all their eyes, and Jeff's mother asked:

"Where yo' done say yo' got her?"

"At de fire," Jeff explained. "I heard de engines puffin' past early dis
mawnin', an' I gits up an' goes out. Dere was a toy store on fire, an'
dey frowed a lot ob toys out in de street. Dere was Jumpin' Jacks, an'
Dolls, an' Steamboats, an'--an'--"

Two of the older colored boys started on a rush for the door, one of
them crying:

"I'se gwine to git a steamboat!"

"Yo' can't git none now, Sim!" shouted Jeff. "De p'licemans is all
aroun' de place. Dey won't let you take nuffin. But I done fooled 'em.
Anyhow, de fire's out now, an' dey'll be puttin' de toys back. But I
done got a white cat!"

So he had, but the China Cat was not so very white now. Besides the dirt
from the fire and the grime from Jeff's hands, she was sticky with
molasses, and every bit of dust flying about the basement room seemed to
settle on the poor toy pussy.

"Lemme hab her, Jeff!" pleaded one of his sisters.

"Well, I done let yo' hold her for a minute," said Jeff, and he gave
the China Cat into the hands of the little black girl. But as this girl
had been eating bread and sugar, she got the poor China Cat stickier
than ever.

"Lemme hold her now, Jeff!" pleaded another black tot.

"Nope, I ain't held her long 'nuff!" declared the first.

"Heah! Gib her to me!" ordered the second.

"No! No! Jeff said I could hab her!" cried the first.

One tried to take the China Cat away from the other, and in the scramble
a chair was upset and the toy nearly fell to the floor.

"This is the most dreadful place I was ever in!" thought the China Cat,
who, of course, could do nothing to save herself. "If they let me fall I
shall be broken, all dirty and soiled as I am."

But Jeff was not going to let that happen.

"Heah! Gib me back mah cat, whut I done got at de fire!" he said, and he
grabbed it from his sister's hand.

"Oh! Oh! Oh!" wailed the little black girl.

"Heah! Hush yo' noise now!" called Jeff's mother. "Set up to de table
an' hab yo' brekfus'! Stop playin'!"

"Dear me, they call that _playing_!" thought the China Cat. "I wonder
what they would do in a game of _tag_? Oh, what is ever to become of
me?"

Jeff took the toy and set it on a shelf in the kitchen, and then he sat
down to his breakfast. Every once in a while he would look up at the
China Cat.

"I's glad I done got yo'," Jeff would murmur. "Yo' suah am a fine toy!"

After breakfast he took the China Cat down off the shelf and let his
sisters look at her. But no sooner did one of the little colored girls
have the cat in her hands than she darted out of the basement.

"Now I's got her, an' I's gwine t' hab some fun!" cried Arabella.
Arabella was the name of this one of Jeff's sisters. "I's gwine to hab
fun wid dis cat!"

Up the stairs and out into the street she ran, holding the China Cat in
such a tight grip that, had the toy been a real pussy, she would have
been choked.




CHAPTER VI

A TERRIBLE STORM


Jeff was not going to let his China Cat be taken from him in this
fashion. With a yell he darted up the basement 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 passing
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 glass. It was cracked and not very clean, but as a ray of
sunshine entered the dingy basement 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 molasses 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.

During the remainder of that day the colored boy and his sisters and
brothers took turns playing with the China Cat. For, after a while, Jeff
allowed the others to handle his toy. And the China Cat was passed
around among the colored children so often that she kept getting more
and more dirty. And on account of having spots of molasses on her, every
bit of dirt and grime that touched her stuck right there. Jeff and his
brothers and sisters did not think of washing themselves, much less of
washing the China Cat.

At last, after having been much handled and passed from one to another,
the China Cat was set on a shelf in the kitchen of the basement tenement
where the colored family lived. Many other colored folk lived in the
same house, and in adjoining houses.

"At last I have time to breathe, but I am so dirty I do not know what to
do," said the China Cat to herself. "I do not believe that any of the
other toys that came from the workshop of Santa Claus ever had such an
unpleasant adventure as I am having."

But if the China Cat had only known it, the Lamb on Wheels, about whom
one of these Make Believe books has been written, had an adventure
almost as sad. The Lamb went down into a coal bin, which was a great
deal blacker than the negro tenement.

"I wonder what will happen to me next?" thought the China Cat, as she
found herself perched on the kitchen shelf. She could look down and see
Jeff, his brothers and his sisters, and his father and mother, eating
supper. They did not offer the China Cat anything to eat, of course.
Toys don't have to eat, which is very lucky sometimes.

"Come now, chilluns! Off to bed wif yo' all!" called Jeff's mother, when
supper was finished. "Yo' was up early, an' yo' mus' git to bed early."

"Can't I play with my China Cat?" asked Jeff.

"No, indeedy!" declared the colored woman, shaking her head. "Yo' leave
dat cat alone, an' git to bed!"

So to bed went Jeff and the other children. Their beds were down in the
basement, in a room just off the kitchen. It was not a very nice home,
but it was the best they could get.

Soon it began to grow dark, but there was a street lamp that shone in
one of the basement windows, so the China Cat, who could see pretty well
in the dark anyhow, managed to look about her.

On the same shelf where she sat, and not far away, was a little Cloth
Dog.

"Dear me!" said the China Cat, speaking out loud now, for there was no
one in the kitchen, all the family having gone to bed. "Dear me, I
didn't know you were here!"

"Oh, yes, I'm here!" barked the Cloth Dog. "That is, what's left of me."

He and the China Cat did not quarrel, though in real life very few dogs
and cats are friends. But it is much different with toys.

"Why, has anything happened to you?" asked the China Cat.

"Gracious, yes!" exclaimed the Cloth Dog. "Can't you see that my tail is
pulled off?"

The China Cat stretched her neck and looked at the Cloth Dog. Surely
enough, in the gleam from the street light she saw that he had no tail.

"Oh, how dreadful!" mewed the Cat. "How did it happen? It must pain
you?"

"Not so much as at first," said the Dog. "I'm used to it now. One of the
colored children pulled my tail off. I think it was the one they call
Arabella. She's always grabbing things away from the others."

"Yes, she grabbed me," said the China Cat. "But I'm glad she didn't pull
off my tail. I'm dirty and sticky, and I hardly know myself, but, thank
goodness, I'm _all_ here."

"That's more than I can say of myself," said the Cloth Dog sadly. "And
I'm afraid you will not be all there after a few days in this house.
It's a dreadful place, and the children are so rough!"

"How did you come to be here?" asked the China Cat. "Were you brought
here from the workshop of Santa Claus?"

"Bless your whiskers, no!" barked the Cloth Dog. "Of course I _once_
came from North Pole Land, but that was years ago. I was a good-looking
toy then, and I had a fine tail. But after a while the children with
whom I lived grew tired of me. I was tossed about, thrown into corners,
and at last put out in the ashes. There one of these colored children
found me, and brought me here. And the very first day there was a
scrabble and a fight over me, and my tail was pulled off."

"Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that!" sighed the China Cat. "If you could
only be taken to the store of Mr. Mugg he would put a new tail on you.
He mended the broken leg of the Nodding Donkey."

"I'm afraid it is too late," whined the Cloth Dog. "But I am sorry for
you. You are such a fine toy, and almost new."

"Yes, I am quite new. In fact, I have never been sold as yet," said the
Cat. "I wouldn't be out of the store now, except for the fire. I was
going to be taken by a very nice little girl named Jennie Moore. But
now, alas, it is too late for that!"

"Tell me about the fire," begged the Cloth Dog. "It will make me forget
that I have no tail."

So there on the shelf in the tenement kitchen, the China Cat told the
Cloth Dog the story of the fire in the toy shop, and how she had come to
be taken away by Jeff.

"I wondered where he had found you when I saw him bring you in this
morning," barked the Dog, when the Cat finished her story. "Indeed, you
have had many adventures; almost as many as I."

The two unfortunate toys became very friendly there in the half darkness
of the night. The Cat was just telling about the Nodding Donkey, and how
he had made the lame boy smile, when she suddenly stopped mewing.

"What's the matter?" asked the Cloth Dog.

"I heard a noise," said the China Cat.

"Oh, that's only rain," went on the Dog. "It is raining hard outside,
and you hear it more plainly here because we are so near the street.
Don't worry. Though this place is dirty, no rain comes in."

So the Cat went on with her story, but as the rain came down harder and
faster it brought her another adventure.

Not far from the tenement was a river. And because there had been much
rain before this last hard shower, the river had risen very high, until
it was almost ready to overflow the banks.

Down pelted the rain, and soon there was a louder roar in the street
outside.

"Is that just the rain?" asked the Cat of the Dog.

"It does sound a little different," the Dog replied. "I wonder if
anything is happening? And see, what is that on the floor?"

"It is water!" cried the Cat, catching the gleam of it in the light of
the street lamp. "Water is running in under the door!" she added.

"Then the river must be overflowing," barked the Dog. "The water is
running in here. Oh, what shall we do?"

As the two toys watched they saw the puddle of water on the floor grow
larger. The rain pelted down harder than before, and all at once there
was a shouting in the streets.

"Get out! Get out, everybody!" came the cry. "There's a big flood! The
river is rising! Get up and get out, everybody!"




CHAPTER VII

THE RESCUE


For a few moments after this wild shouting in the street there was no
sound in the negro basement where the China Cat and the Cloth Dog
without any tail were perched on the shelf. The rain pelted down harder
than before, a regular flood in itself, and to the noise of the drops
was added the roar from the flooded river.

Presently there came a pounding on the basement door of the tenement
where Jeff, the colored boy, lived.

Bang! Bang! Bang! came the loud knock.

"Who's dat?" asked Jeff's mother from the bedroom where she was
sleeping. "Who's dat knockin' at de do'?"

Bang! Bang! Bang! came the sound again.

"Can that be thunder?" whispered the China Cat to the Cloth Dog.

"No, this isn't a thunderstorm," answered the Dog. "It is much worse
than any thunderstorm I ever heard. There is going to be a bad time
here, with a flood and everything."

"Who's dat?" asked the voice of Jeff's mother again, as the pounding at
the door sounded a second time.

"The police!" was the answer.

Jeff, who had been awakened, heard this answer. He covered his head with
the clothes, and cowered down in the bed.

"Oh, mah good land!" thought Jeff when he heard this. "De p'lice has
done come to git me 'cause I took de China Cat! Oh, good land! I ain't
so smart as I thought! Oh, dey's gwine 'rest me suah!"

But the police had not come to get Jeff. Once more the officer pounded
with his club on the basement door.

"Come there!" he cried. "Get up and dress and skip out if you don't want
to be drowned! The river is rising. It will flood all these basement
tenements! You'll have to clear out--all of you! Wake up and get out!
We'll help you! Open the door!"

"Oh, massy me! A flood!" cried Jeff's mother. "Does yo' heah dat,
Rastus?" she called to her husband. "Dere's a flood an' we's done got to
run out! Git up an' open de do' an' I'll roust up de chilluns!"

"I'll open the do,' Ma," said Jeff, slipping out of his bed, and as he
swung the door open there stood a policeman.

"Come, boy; lively!" cried the officer. "You were long enough answering
my knock. You've all got to leave here! How many of you are there?"

"Ten," answered Jeff, and he looked over the mantel shelf to see if the
officer noticed the China Cat.

But the policeman had something else to do just then. He and others had
been sent to the tenement district, near the rising river, to rouse and
save the poor people from the flood.

"Ten, eh?" cried the policeman. "That's quite a family. Well, don't stop
to put on more than a few clothes. There isn't any time to save things.
The river will be pouring in here soon."

"Some of it's heah already," remarked Jeff, as he saw the water on the
floor.

"Lively now!" called the policeman again. "Here, let me take some of
those," he said, as Jeff's father came out of a bedroom carrying in his
arms two sleepy little colored girls.

The policeman wore a big rubber raincoat, which was dripping wet, and in
the gleam of a light, which Jeff's father made, the wet rubber coat
glistened brightly.

The policeman took the two little sisters of Jeff, and tucked them under
his rubber coat. They were too sleepy to cry, having just been lifted
from bed.

"This will keep you dry," said the officer. "I'll put you in the wagon
and send you to the station house."

"Is yo'--is yo' gwine to 'rest 'em?" asked Jeff.

"Arrest 'em? No. What for?" asked the officer, with a smile, as he
splashed, with his rubber boots, into the puddle of water on the
tenement floor. "They haven't done anything, and you haven't done
anything to be arrested for, have you?"

Jeff looked at the White China Cat, but did not answer.

"I'll just carry these youngsters out to the wagon, and then come back
for more," the policeman went on. "You'll all be kept safe in the
station house, or some place, until the river goes down."

Jeff breathed easier. He was afraid it had been found out that he took
the China Cat. He darted quickly back into his bedroom and began putting
on his shoes. That was all he had taken off when he curled up to go to
sleep. He had only a few clothes, and he slept in them. So did most of
the other children of the tenements in cold weather.

Out into the rain splashed the policeman carrying the two little colored
girls. They were softly crying now, but he comforted them as best he
could, and kept them dry under his coat. The rain was coming down harder
than ever and the roar of the rising river was louder. When Jeff's
father and mother and the other children were ready to be taken out, the
water on the floor of the tenement was up to the policeman's knees.

"You'll have to hurry!" he called to the frightened family. "We have to
rescue a lot of other people. Skip out and get into the wagon and you'll
be safe."

As Jeff and the others made their way up the steps to the sidewalk they
saw and heard more of the terrible storm. There was water in the
streets. With the rising of the river and the rain, the streets were
almost like little creeks themselves. Outside the tenement stood the
police patrol wagon. As many of the poor people as possible had been
crowded into it, Jeff and his folks among them.

"Are any more left in your rooms?" asked the officer who had pounded
with his club on the door to awaken the sleepers.

"No, we's all out," answered Jeff's mother.

"Think I'll take a look and make sure," said the policeman. Back through
the flood he waded in his rubber boots, and down he went into the
basement where the lamp was still burning.

"Any one here?" asked the officer.

He listened, but there was no sound save the pelting of the rain, the
roar of the river, and the trickle of water as it rose higher and
higher in the basement. Up on their shelf the China Cat and the Cloth
Dog sat and looked down. They had not dared to speak or move while any
one was in the room. But they had just begun to feel that it was time
for them to do something to save themselves when the policeman came in
again. Then they had to remain quiet, though they were much afraid of
being drowned in the flood.

"Hello!" suddenly exclaimed the police officer as he saw the China Cat.
"Seems to me I know you! I remember about you! I wonder how you got
here? You were among the toys taken from Mr. Mugg's shop during the
fire. Well! Well! To think of finding you here, Miss China Cat! I
shouldn't be surprised but what that oldest colored boy might know
something about you. But I'll take you along, and hand you back to Mr.
Mugg, where you belong."

With that the policeman reached up, lifted down the China Cat, and
thrust her into an inside pocket, where his rubber coat would keep her
nice and dry.

"Though if he only knew it," thought the China Cat, "I'd just as soon be
rained on a little, to clean me off. Oh, but I am so dirty!"

However, the policeman did not stop to think that perhaps the Cat might
like to be cleaned. In fact, he did not think she had any feelings at
all, for it was a long while since he had been little enough to play
with toys and enjoy make believe games.

Into his pocket went the China Cat. Then the policeman looked at the
Cloth Dog on the shelf.

"You never came from the toy shop, that's certain," said the officer.
"No use taking you!"

So he left the poor Cloth Dog, without any tail, alone on the kitchen
shelf, but he took the China Cat away with him in his pocket, the
policeman did.

Out into the rain-soaked street the officer made his way once more.

"Nobody left in here, Jim," he called to the other officer on the police
wagon. "Get those people to the station, and then come back. There's a
lot more who will have to be rescued this night. It's going to be a bad
flood."

And so it was, though the China Cat saw little of it, for she was safe
and snug in the officer's pocket. It was black and dark in there, but it
was warm, though a bit smothery. And it was clean, which the China Cat
liked best of all.

"Though I am very dirty myself," she said. "I hope I get somewhere so I
can wash."

All night long the rescue of people from the flood was kept up. Jeff and
his family were taken to a place of refuge where they were given
something to eat and beds on which to lie down. All night long the
policemen worked, and when morning came all those who had been in danger
were saved.

The officer who had the China Cat in his pocket walked into his station
house just as day was breaking.

"Here is something you'll like to hear about," said the policeman to the
sergeant behind the desk, as he set the toy on the top of it.

"A cat! My land! where'd you get her?" asked the sergeant. "She'll be
just what we want to catch mice around here! Here, puss, puss!" he
called.

"Oh, my! he thinks I'm alive," said the China Cat to herself.




CHAPTER VIII

JENNIE GETS THE CAT


The policeman who had rescued the China Cat from the flood in the
basement of the negro tenement stood and looked at the sergeant behind
the desk in the station house. Then the policeman looked at the China
Cat which he had set on top of the desk.

"What's the matter with you? Why are you acting so funny?" asked the
sergeant of the policeman.

"Funny? I'm not acting funny. You are," the policeman laughed.

"How am I funny?" the sergeant wanted to know.

"Why, you're calling that cat, and asking her to catch mice, and--"

"Of course I'm asking her to catch mice," said the sergeant. "There's a
lot of mice around here and--"

"Ha! Ha!" laughed the policeman. "_That_ cat will never catch any mice.
She's a toy, a China Cat, and she was stolen from that toy shop where
there was a fire yesterday. It was Horatio Mugg's place. A lot of the
toys were set out on the sidewalk, and some negroes who live near by
walked off with quite a lot. Mr. Mugg, after the fire, made out a list
of his toys that were missing, and among them was this China Cat. I had
one of the lists.

"Then, when I was sent to rescue the people from the flood, I saw this
Cat on the mantel. I brought her here, as I do with all stolen things I
find, and you can send her back to Mr. Mugg."

The sergeant put on his glasses, for he was rather an elderly man, and
looked carefully at the China Cat.

"Bless me!" exclaimed the sergeant, "she _is_ a China Cat after all. I
took her for a real black and white pussy."

"Oh, dear me!" thought the China Cat. "He thought I was partly _black_!
I must be _very_ dirty indeed. My toy friends would never know me! Oh,
shall I ever be clean again?"

"Yes, it is only a toy China Cat," said the policeman who had rescued
the pussy, as well as the negro family. "I guess she was pure white
once. But she got blackened in the fire, and it didn't wash off in the
flood, though goodness knows it rained enough!"

"I should say so," agreed the sergeant. "Well, leave the China Cat here,
and I will send her back to Mr. Mugg. You didn't see any of his other
stolen toys, did you?"

"No," the policeman answered, "I did not. There was a little Cloth Dog
on the same shelf, but he had no tail and one eye was almost gone, so I
knew he didn't belong in the toy store, and I let him stay there."

"Poor little Cloth Dog!" thought the China Cat. "I wonder what will
become of him?"

However, she never heard, nor did she ever again see her little friend
without any tail. But I might tell you that the little Cloth Dog was
still on the mantel when the flood went down and Jeff and the family
moved back into their basement. The Cloth Dog was not drowned, and he
lived for many years after that, even without his tail, though I cannot
say he was very happy.

"Well, you take care of the China Cat. I am going to get my breakfast,"
said the policeman who had brought the white pussy into the station
house.

"I'll take care of her, and send her back to Mr. Mugg as soon as I have
a chance," the sergeant promised.

Then he set the China Cat off the top of the big desk, and on a smaller
one, so she would not get broken. All the remainder of the morning the
China Cat was in the police station, though she was not arrested, you
understand. Oh, my, no! She had done nothing wrong, even though she was
very dirty. But of course being dirty was not her fault.

The China Cat saw many strange sights as she sat in the police station,
and some of the sights were sad ones. She heard much about the flood,
too, for it was a very high one, the river having overflowed its banks
in many places.

At last all the poor people were rescued, and the police sergeant, who
had been very busy, was given a few moments' rest. He leaned back in his
chair and looked at the China Cat.

"I think I shall telephone Mr. Mugg and tell him to come here and get
his China Cat," the sergeant said. "This may not be his toy. It may
have been stolen from some other store. But I'll soon find out."

So the police sergeant telephoned to Mr. Mugg. The toy-store keeper and
his daughters, Angelina and Geraldine, were very busy, getting things to
rights after the fire. It had not been as bad as was at first supposed,
being down in the basement. Some smoke and water got up on the main
floor, however, but this was soon cleaned up and the store put to rights
again.

"What's that?" cried Mr. Mugg over the telephone, though of course the
China Cat could not hear what he said. "You have my white China Cat? Oh,
I am so glad! I'll be right down to get her."

"All right," answered the sergeant. "She is here waiting for you. Though
I would not call her very white," he added as he hung up the telephone.

"What do you think of that, Geraldine--Angelina!" called Mr. Mugg to his
two daughters. "Our China Cat, that was stolen when the toys were
carried out on account of the fire, has been found!"

"Oh, I am so glad!" said Geraldine.

"Where is she?" asked Angelina.

"In the police station," her father replied. "I am going down to get
her."

"I'll go with you," offered Geraldine. "I want to see the China Cat
again. I hope she isn't chipped. Who had her?"

But this Mr. Mugg did not know, for the sergeant did not tell him the
whole story over the telephone. A little later Mr. Mugg and Geraldine
were in the police station.

"I have come for my China Cat," said Mr. Mugg, rubbing his hands and
looking over the tops of his glasses.

"Here she is," said the sergeant, and he handed over the pussy who had
been rescued from the flood.

For a moment the toy-store keeper looked at the plaything. Then he sadly
shook his head.

"No, I am sorry to say that is not my China Cat," he said.

Well, you can just imagine how the China Cat felt. Her heart, such as
she had, was beating with joy when she saw Mr. Mugg and Geraldine come
into the station house. But now to hear Mr. Mugg say she was not his
Cat! Oh, it was terrible, I do assure you!

"Not your Cat?" exclaimed the sergeant. "Why, I understood a lot of toys
were stolen from your shop after the fire, and a China Cat was among
them."

"Yes, that is so," answered Mr. Mugg. "But my China Cat was a white one,
and this is black and white. No, she does not belong to me."

He turned away, and the China Cat would have shed tears if China Cats
ever cry. But Miss Geraldine stepped forward.

"Please let me look at that toy," she said.

The sergeant handed her the China Cat. Geraldine looked closely at her.
Then she gave a joyful cry.

"Why, of course she is our Cat, Father!" said Geraldine. "She is just
grimy and dirty. That's the reason you think she is black and white. If
I could only wash her you'd see that she is our own China Cat."

"Do you think so?" asked Mr. Mugg, hopefully.

"I'm sure of it!" declared his daughter. "Oh, if I only had a little
soap and water."

"We can let you have some, lady," said the sergeant. "You may take the
cat to the washroom and clean her."

This Miss Geraldine did. Under the stream of water, when some soap had
been rubbed on the China Cat, a great change took place. Off came the
grime of the smoke! Off came the spots of sticky molasses! Off came the
soiled marks made by Jeff's dirty hands! The White Cat, not coming to
life while Miss Geraldine had her, of course got no soap in her eyes,
as would have happened if she had been real.

Soon all the black, the grime, and the dirty spots were washed away.
Geraldine dried the China Cat on a towel the sergeant gave her, and then
held the plaything up in front of her father.

"Now isn't that our Cat?" asked Miss Geraldine.

Mr. Mugg looked carefully over the tops of his glasses. He ran his hands
through his hair and then through his whiskers, and then rubbed his
hands together.

"Why--er--yes--er--my dear--that _is_ our China Cat!" he said. "We'll
take her right back to the store! Oh, I'm very glad to get her back.
Thank you, very much," he said to the police sergeant.

"You are welcome," replied the officer. Then Geraldine and her father
hurried back to the toy shop, carrying the China Cat.

As for the white pussy, you can imagine how glad and happy she was to be
clean again. Nothing else mattered for the time, and she would have
mewed out a song if she had been allowed to do so. But of course she
could not.

"Put her in the window," said Mr. Mugg, when he and his daughter reached
the toy shop. "That little girl who was going to buy her may see the Cat
and come in for her."

So the China toy was again put in the show window of the shop, which had
been cleaned and put to rights after the fire. In the same window was
some doll's furniture, and on the bureau was a looking glass. The China
Cat caught a glimpse of herself. She was as clean and white as a new
snowball.

"Oh, how glad I am!" she said to herself.

She looked all around. There in the window with her were most of the
toys she had known for a long time. They did not seem to have been
burned or scorched by the fire. In fact, though some of his playthings
were damaged, Mr. Mugg did not, of course, put any of these in his show
window.

Near the China Cat was a Jumping Jack, a Jack in the Box, the Talking
Doll, a Policeman and a Fireman--not the same Policeman and Fireman who
had been in the basement, but some just like them. Throughout the store
was a smell of smoke; but this could not be helped.

The China Cat would have liked very much to speak to some of the other
toys, but she was not allowed to do so.

"But when night comes," she said to herself, "I shall have a chance.
Then we can all talk about the fire. I wonder if any of my friends had
such adventures as I had?"

But the China Cat did not get the chance she hoped for. That very
afternoon, the same day that she had been put in the show window, a
little girl and a lady came to a stop outside the toy shop, to look in
through the glass.

"Oh, Aunt Clara! See!" cried the little girl. "There is the China Cat
you were going to buy for me! Mr. Mugg thought she was smashed in the
fire, but she wasn't and here she is. Oh, please take me in and get me
the China Cat!"

"Very well, my dear," said Aunt Clara. "I promised you the toy and you
may have her."

The China Cat heard what was said, and, looking out of the window, she
saw the same nice little girl who had once held her in her hands.

"Oh, I hope nothing happens this time," whispered the Cat. "I should
like to live with that nice little girl."

"We have come for the China Cat, Mr. Mugg," said Aunt Clara, as the toy
man came forward to wait on his customers. "We called right after the
fire, but everything was so upset we did not come in."

"Oh, wasn't that fire dreadful!" sighed Mr. Mugg, raising his hands. "I
thought my whole place would burn! But the firemen carried out a lot of
the toys, and though this white China Cat was stolen, I have her back.
So you want her, do you, little girl?" he asked.

"Oh, I want her very much!" said Jennie Moore, and the China Cat was
placed in her hands.

"Now for some new adventures," thought the toy, as she felt the nice
little girl softly rubbing her white head.




CHAPTER IX

AN OLD FRIEND


Jennie Moore's aunt paid Mr. Mugg for the white China Cat, and the
little girl carried the toy out of the store, not even waiting to have
wrapping paper put around her.

"She is afraid the China Cat may be caught in another fire, or that
something will happen," laughed the aunt, as she followed her niece.

"Oh, I hope there will never be another fire!" exclaimed Mr. Mugg, as he
bowed his customers out of the door. "I can't imagine what started this
one. But I am glad the China Cat is safe, though she did get very
dirty."

"She is clean now," said Jennie, turning her China Cat over and over,
and not finding a speck of dirt on her.

"What are you going to call your China Cat, Jennie?" asked Aunt Clara,
when they had almost reached the home of the nice little girl.

"I will call her Snowball," was the answer. "She is white, just like a
snowball."

"And from what Mr. Mugg said, I imagine she was as black as coal after
the fire," laughed Aunt Clara. "Well, I am glad Snowball is clean and
white now, and that you at last have her. Take good care of her and
don't drop your cat, for I think she will break easily."

"I'll be careful," promised Jennie.

"Oh, how different this is from the time when that terrible black boy,
Jeff, had me," thought the China Cat, as she was taken into Jennie's
home. There the rooms were bright, cheerful and sunny, with soft carpets
on the floor and beautiful ornaments all about.

"Now we'll have some fun, Snowball," said Jennie to the China Cat, as
she set her toy down on a table, while she took off her hat and coat,
for it was winter and the weather was cold, even though it did rain at
times, instead of snow.

"You will not have to be afraid of a flood here, Snowball," went on
Jennie, "for we are far from the river."

"Thank goodness for that," thought the China Cat, who heard all that was
said, though she could not move when Jennie, or any one else, was
looking at her.

Jennie played with the China Cat all the rest of that day. Once the nice
little girl dressed the China Cat up in doll's clothes and pretended she
was a doll.

"Though I cannot say I liked that," said the China Cat, telling her
adventures afterward to her friend, the Talking Doll. "The clothes sort
of tickled me. But Jennie was so kind and good I did not want to make a
fuss."

When evening came Jennie put her China Cat away in a closet in her room,
where there were many other toys. At first it was so dark that the China
Cat could see nothing, but, after a while, she saw where some light came
in through the keyhole, and then Snowball could look about her. The
light that came through the hole was not daylight, for it was now night,
and Jennie was going to bed. It was the light from a little lamp that
burned all night just outside Jennie's room, and the China Cat was glad
of that, for by the gleam she was able to see her way around the closet.

"Thank goodness now I can move and stretch myself a bit," said the China
Cat, speaking out loud, in toy language. "I haven't had a chance to do
as I pleased since just before the fire."

"What's that about a fire?" suddenly asked a voice just behind the China
Cat. She looked around the shelf on which she sat but could see no one,
though a Wooden Doll, with funny, staring eyes, was looking straight at
her.

"Did you speak?" asked the China Cat of the Wooden Doll.

"No," was the answer. "Though I was just going to. I'm glad you have
come here to live with us. You'll like it here. Jennie is such a nice
little girl."

"We're all nice!" cried the same voice that had asked about the fire.

"Who is that?" asked the China Cat, for, as before, she saw no one.

"Oh, it's probably Jack," answered the Wooden Doll. "He's always playing
jokes."

"Jack who?" asked the China Cat.

"Jack Box," answered the Wooden Doll. "He's one of those funny, pop-up
Jacks in a Box, and he's always trying to fool some one. I suppose,
because you are the newest toy to come here, that he is playing a trick
on you."

"No trick, Wooden Doll! Just trying to be friendly and jolly--that's
all!" went on the voice, with a laugh, and from a box near the China
Cat sprang one of the queer Jacks that have such a sudden way of
appearing.

"Oh! How you surprised me!" mewed the Cat.

"That's just my way! Can't help it! Have to jump when my spring
uncoils!" said the Jack, with a broad grin on his face. "Let's have some
fun!" he went on. "It's our chance to make believe come to life, now
that Jennie has gone to bed. Sweet child. I like her, don't you?" he
asked Snowball.

"Yes. But how you rattle on," said the China Cat. "You don't give one a
chance to think."

"Yes, Jack is always like that," said the Wooden Doll.

"Well, let's have some fun," went on Jack. "What do you say to a game of
tag?"

Leaning over, which he could readily do, as the coiled spring inside him
was so easy to bend, Jack touched the China Cat. But Jack must have
leaned too far, or too suddenly, for he brushed the Wooden Doll to one
side.

"Oh, look out!" she cried. "You have knocked me off the shelf! Oh, there
I go!" and the Wooden Doll fell straight down!

"Now you have done it!" mewed the China Cat.

"I hope her neck isn't broken," said a tiny Celluloid Doll. "Oh, what an
accident!"

"I--I didn't mean to do it," said Jack sadly. "I'll go down and pick her
up."

"Hush! Keep quiet, all of you!" suddenly mewed the China Cat. "Some one
is coming!"

On the other side of the closet door, in the room where Jennie slept,
the toys could hear the voice of the little girl calling:

"Aunt Clara! Aunt Clara! Come here! There's something in my toy closet.
I heard a noise! Maybe that colored boy is trying to get Snowball, my
China Cat."

"Nonsense, Jennie. You imagined it, dear. Go to sleep now," replied her
aunt, coming in from her room and turning up the light.

"No, I didn't imagine it," declared Jennie. "I heard a noise in my
closet. Please look, Aunt Clara."

So Aunt Clara opened the door, and there she saw the Wooden Doll on the
floor. The Doll had fallen on some felt slippers and so was not in the
least hurt.

"There it is," said Jennie's aunt. "Your Wooden Doll fell off the shelf.
You couldn't have put her far enough back."

"Oh!" murmured Jennie sleepily. "I'm glad she wasn't broken, and I'm
glad my China Cat is all right."

Then Jennie went to sleep again, but she never knew, nor did her aunt,
that Jack had knocked down the Wooden Doll.

"Behave yourself now, Jack," said the Celluloid Doll, when the toys
were once more left alone. "If you play, let it be some easy game, like
telling stories or riddles."

"All right," agreed Jack. "Suppose the China Cat tells us the story of
the fire and the flood."

So the China Cat did, just as they are set down in this book. And after
that the toys played guessing games, and told riddles until it was time
for them to stop, as morning was at hand.

Jennie awakened early, and got her China Cat from the closet.

"You are one of my nicest toys," said the little girl. "To-day I am
going to put you in the front window where you can see everything, and
where the other children can see you."

So after breakfast the China Cat was set in the front window of the
house, while Jennie sat near in a chair reading a book of fairy stories.
After a while Jennie was called away to help her aunt, and the China
Cat was left alone. For the first time that day she could look about as
she pleased, moving her head and stretching her paws, as no one was in
the room.

[Illustration: The China Cat Gazed Out of the Window.

_Page 110_]

The China Cat gazed out of the window toward the house next door, and
what was her great surprise to see in the front window there an old
friend.

"Well, I do declare!" mewed the China Cat to herself. "How did he get
here? Oh, if I could only speak to him! See, he is bowing to me! Oh,
isn't this just wonderful!"




CHAPTER X

THE GLARING EYES


Snowball, the China Cat, was so excited that she felt she must really
jump out of the window and go across the yard to her old friend, when
Jennie, the little girl, came back into the room. Of course the China
Cat had to be very still and quiet then.

"Oh, Joe has his Nodding Donkey in the window!" exclaimed Jennie.
"That's a sign he wants me to come over and play with him. I'll go and
ask Aunt Clara if I may go!"

Out of the room sped Jennie again, and the China Cat, who had heard what
the little girl said, mewed to herself:

"At last I shall have a chance to see the Nodding Donkey again." For it
was this old friend at whom the China Cat had looked through the window,
watching him nod his head.

"Yes, Jennie. What is it?" asked Aunt Clara, as the little girl called
to her.

"Please may I go over and see Joe?" begged Jennie. "He has set his
Nodding Donkey in his front window, and that means he wants me to come
over. He always does that when he wants me. I'll take my new China Cat
over to see him."

"Very well, dear," agreed Aunt Clara, and a little later Jennie was
crossing the yard, carrying Snowball under her arm. The China Cat was
very glad that she was going to be taken to see the Nodding Donkey, with
whom she used to live in Mr. Mugg's store.

"I'm glad you came over, Jennie," said Joe, as he opened the door for
the little girl. "What have you?"

"My new China Cat, named Snowball. I brought her over so she could play
with your Nodding Donkey."

"I guess maybe they know one another," said Joe. "They came from the
same store, you know."

"Oh, so they did!" exclaimed Jennie.

"I have a toy wagon," said Joe. "I'll hitch my Nodding Donkey up to it,
and we'll give your China Cat a ride."

"Oh, that will be fun!" cried Jennie. "Only don't upset her, for if she
falls out she may break off her tail."

"I'll be careful," promised Joe, and then he and Jennie had a lot more
fun with the Nodding Donkey and the China Cat. They were just thinking
up another game to play when Joe cried:

"Here come Dorothy with her Sawdust Doll and Mirabell with her Lamb on
Wheels."

"I should like to meet those toys," mewed the Cat to herself. And, a
little later she did, as two other little girls came in to play with
Joe. Then along came Dick, who was Dorothy's brother, and he brought his
White Rocking Horse, though it was rather a large and heavy toy to
carry. And Arnold, who was Mirabell's brother, brought along his Bold
Tin Captain Soldier and his men.

Now began a very gladsome time for Snowball. She lived in a fine house,
with a dear little girl for a mistress, and she had no more troubles.

Thus Winter passed and Spring came, with warm, sunny days when the
children could play with their toys on the porches. One day Joe took his
Nodding Donkey and went over to call on Jennie and her China Cat. But
just as Joe was going up the porch steps he heard a hand organ down the
street.

"Maybe there's a monkey with that hand organ!" said Joe to himself. So,
without stopping to ring the bell, or letting Jennie know he had come to
call, Joe set his Nodding Donkey down on the porch and ran out of the
yard.

And now I must tell you what happened. The hand organ was quite a
distance from Jennie's house, and it took Joe some little time to reach
it. While he was gone, having, as I said, left his Nodding Donkey on
Jennie's porch, along came sneaking Jeff, the colored boy.

Jeff's family had moved back into their basement tenement after the
flood, and Jeff was the same dirty, careless colored boy as before. He,
too, had heard the music of the hand organ down the street and he wanted
to see if there was a monkey.

But as he was passing Jennie's house he looked toward the porch, and
there he saw Joe's Nodding Donkey.

"Oh, golly!" whispered Jeff to himself, "dis yeah is mah chance! I kin
git dat Donkey, suah!"

Sneaking along, Jeff softly opened the gate and went into Jennie's yard.
On tiptoes he approached the porch where the Nodding Donkey was slowly
shaking his head up and down.

"Dis yeah suah is a fine toy!" muttered Jeff. "It's a heap sight better
dan de China Cat I got at de fire! I'll take dis Donkey!"

Jeff reached the porch and stretched out his black, dirty hands to take
the Nodding Donkey. But, as he did so, the negro boy happened to look up
at a side window, and there, on a table behind the glass, sat the China
Cat!

The China Cat had big, staring eyes, and now because of the way the sun
shone on them, they seemed to glare straight at Jeff. They even seemed
to open wider, and move and blink, did those glaring eyes of the China
Cat.

Jeff stood still and pulled back his hands that had been about to take
the Nodding Donkey.

"Oh, golly!" he murmured. "Oh, dey's lookin' straight at me, dey is!
Dat's de China Cat I tooked from de fire, an' she must have come to
life! Oh, I dassn't take dat Donkey while she's glarin' at me wif dem
big eyes! Oh, I's skeered, I is!"

With that Jeff turned and started on a run out of the yard. The Nodding
Donkey, who had been very much afraid he was about to be stolen, was so
thankful he did not know what to do. And the China Cat, who had feared
that her friend was about to be taken from her, kept on staring as hard
as she could.

Jeff ran faster. He gave one look back over his shoulder to see if any
one might be chasing him, and he caught sight of the Cat's eyes again.

"Oh, golly!" cried Jeff.

At that moment his foot caught in a loose board of the walk, and down
fell that bad boy Jeff with a bang, bruising knees and his nose and his
chin.

"Ouch!" cried Jeff, as he got up and limped away.

"It serves him right," said the China Cat to herself, "for trying to
take my friend, the Nodding Donkey."

"I guess you won't come back here in a hurry," said the Donkey to
himself, as he saw Jeff going off down the street as fast as he could
go. And the colored boy never did.

Joe came back, after having seen the hand organ and the monkey, and Joe
carried his Nodding Donkey into Jennie's house. There the children
played with their toys.

"How can I ever thank you?" said the Nodding Donkey to the China Cat.
"With your big, glaring eyes you saved me from that colored boy."

"I am glad I did," mewed the Cat. "I didn't want you to be taken away
from me. You are the best friend I have."

"I am glad you think so," brayed the Nodding Donkey. "I had another very
good friend in the workshop of Santa Claus, at the North Pole, but I
have not seen him for a long time."

"Who was that?" asked the China Cat.

"He was a Plush Bear," answered the Nodding Donkey. "A most wonderful
Plush Bear! When he was wound up he moved his head and his paws and he
growled as natural as anything."

"Oh, tell me about him!" mewed the China Cat. "Tell me about the Plush
Bear."

The Nodding Donkey was just going to do this when Jennie and Joe came
into the room and the toys had to remain quiet, not even talking.

But I happen to know the story of the Plush Bear, and it is to be the
very next one I tell you of these Make Believe Stories.

Of course Snowball had many more good times while she lived with Jennie,
which she did for many years. She often had fun with the Nodding Donkey
and other toys.

One day Joe came over to Jennie's house, carrying his Nodding Donkey, a
toy which was seldom out of his arms.

"Oh, Jennie!" cried Joe, "let's have a picnic in the woods for our toys.
I'll take my Donkey, you can take your China Cat and I'll get Dorothy,
Dick and the others to bring their toys."

"Oh, what fun to have a Toy Picnic!" exclaimed Jennie.

And the Nodding Donkey and the China Cat looked at one another most
happily. They liked good times. The Toy Picnic was a great success, and
how the boys and girls did laugh when the China Cat fell into the brook!

"But it doesn't hurt her," said Jennie, "and I was going to give her a
bath, anyhow, 'cause I got some sticky candy on her tail."

The Cat, herself, was glad to be washed and clean, and here we must
leave her, having fun as she is with the other toys.


THE END




HAPPY HOME SERIES

By HOWARD R. GARIS

       *       *       *       *       *

          Individual Colored Wrappers and Colored Illustrations by
          LANG CAMPBELL

       *       *       *       *       *

Mr. Garis has written many stories for boys and girls, among them his
Uncle Wiggly volumes, but these books are something distinctly new,
surprising and entertaining.


ADVENTURES OF THE GALLOPING GAS STOVE

          A tale of how Gassy mysteriously disappeared, and
          how he came riding home on the back of an
          elephant. It is also related how he broke his leg,
          and fed a hungry family in a cottage near a lake.


ADVENTURES of the RUNAWAY ROCKING CHAIR

          Racky creaked and groaned when fat Grandma sat on
          him too hard. He felt himself ill-treated, so he
          vanished. He did not intend to take Grandma's
          glasses with him, but he did. And he rocked a
          bunny to sleep.


ADVENTURES OF THE TRAVELING TABLE

          Tippy, the table, always wanted to travel and see
          the world, but he did not know how to start.
          Until, all of a sudden, a diamond ring was hidden
          in his leg and a balloon carried him off through
          the air.


ADVENTURES OF THE SLIDING FOOT STOOL

          Just because he did not want to be used as a
          milking stool by the Maiden All Forlorn, Skiddy
          slid away Christmas eve. With him went Jack the
          Jumper, and they had a wonderful time in the toy
          shop.


ADVENTURES OF THE SAILING SOFA

          Skippy always wanted to be a sailor. When the high
          water came in the spring, the sofa went sailing.
          He had a Rooster for a crew, while Tatter, the rag
          doll with one shoe button eye, was Captain.

       *       *       *       *       *

GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK




THE PUSS-IN-BOOTS, Jr. SERIES

By DAVID CORY

Author of "The Little Jack Rabbit Stories" and "Little Journeys to
Happyland"

       *       *       *       *       *

          Handsomely Bound. Colored Wrappers. Illustrated.
          Each Volume Complete in Itself.

       *       *       *       *       *

To know Puss Junior once is to love him forever. That's the way all the
little people feel about this young, adventurous cat, son of a very
famous father.

          THE ADVENTURES OF PUSS-IN-BOOTS, JR.

          FURTHER ADVENTURES OF PUSS-IN-BOOTS, JR.

          PUSS-IN-BOOTS, JR. IN FAIRYLAND

          TRAVELS OF PUSS-IN-BOOTS, JR.

          PUSS-IN-BOOTS, JR., AND OLD MOTHER GOOSE

          PUSS-IN-BOOTS, JR., IN NEW MOTHER GOOSE LAND

          PUSS-IN-BOOTS, JR., AND THE GOOD GRAY HORSE

          PUSS-IN-BOOTS, JR., AND TOM THUMB

          PUSS-IN-BOOTS, JR., AND ROBINSON CRUSOE

          PUSS-IN-BOOTS, JR., AND THE MAN IN THE MOON

       *       *       *       *       *

GROSSET & DUNLAP, _Publishers_, NEW YORK




       *       *       *       *       *




Transcriber's Notes:

   Obvious punctuation errors repaired.

   Happy Home ad, "top" changed to "toy". (in the toy shop)





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