FOURPAWS.

Auckland Star, Volume LXVIII, Issue 31, 6 February 1937, Page 2 (Supplement)

FOURPAWS.

(Molly Curtin, 02, 01.-tronce Street, Ponsoiil.y, W. 1.) Ho had always been independent, from the very first week of his life, when he was juet able to see out of the corner of his opening eyes, a whiteness which was daylight, though he did not know it. And he promptly began to stagger towards it, until "a maternal cuff rolled him on to his back so that -his parent could proceed with the humiliating and perpetual business of washing. lie was being washed when the children brought Aunt Bertha to see him— he was trying, as usual, to maintain his absurd dignity, not an easy thing to do in such a position. The children were breathless with excitement as they brought their visitor to look at the family party in tho box of shavings in one corner of the kitchen. The}' were not to be allowed to keep a kitten— "'Least not after he's old enough to lap," they explained in duet. So, since Aunt Bertha was the nicest grown-up they knew, well, would she like to have him, please? And Aunt Bertha thanked them gravely. . "Oh, she lviii, she will," Peter and Pamela shouted, dancing wildly round and round. "Onlv, what will you call him?" they broke off to ai<k anxiously. "He's your puss, so you must name him, you know." All three of- them bent over the basket, where the. mother cat just lilted her eyes from tho washing and greeted them with an inquiring purr. Tho kitten wriggled hopefully, kicking with all its white feet. "Oh, look!" squealed Pamela. "All four paws are- white. He's the sweetest kitten we've ever had." "Fourpaws, Fourpaws," chanted Peter, who had the- habit of being suddenly and completely enthralled by words. ''What a nice name Fourpaws is!"

"It is. isn't it?" agreed Aunt Bertha, with one of her slow smiles. "What about calling (he kitten Fourpaws?" "Oh, yes, let's," they agreed with enthusiasm. And Fourpaws he became from that day. So the summer went drowsily [iast, and Fourpaws grew and flourished. It became more and more dreadful to think of parting with him, even to Aunt Bertha. But nurse was firm. "The little cat is not to be kept, Miss' Pamela. Think what cook would say!" That was always enough for tho two children. Peter and Pamela were verv woebegone, that morning. Nwso had delivered her ullimatium—FoHrpaws must go away. He had been found before breakfast, leaving the larder jit triumph and dragging the major part of a herring behind him. In the face of facts there was not much'to be said, and there had nurso bethought of turning the affair into a triumphal procession escorting Fourpaws to Ills new home with Aunt Bertha. "And dry your eyes, now, Miss Pamela, will you, for Aunt Bertha is not likely to enjoy a present that's given so unwilling. Give her (he little cat with a good grace, now. do." So a basket was found, and obligingly decorated bv nurse with a ribbon, anil Pamela herself printed a placard in wobbly capitals, refusing any assistance. It announced: "Fourpaws, with love for Auntie Bertha." When Fourpaws himself was found and persuaded into the basket he entered into tho sport of tho game, by promptly jumping out as quickly as he was put

in. When this had happened hUf a. dozen times, it was decided that Pamela should carry the basket in front of her with both hands, very slowly and carefully, while Peter walked alongside it stroking the restless kitten and crooning "Chcetic, eliectie, sleep clicctie," by way of persuading the now indignant kitten to take a nap. "Your daddy's expected," was nurse's parting instruction, "and don't he late." Tho two children emerged from the path, crossed the drive and stood in the gateway looking about them. Aunt Bertha was usually somewhere about. Presently they spied her, under a tree, sitting quite still, as she often did. "Sue's lonely, Peter," whispered Pamela, rather breathless from having held the basket tightly pressed against her blue-smocked front. "I'm glad we've got Fourpaws for her, aren't you!" "Xo," replied Peter. "We wanted him, too." Hue when the procession reached the tree, Aunt Bertha-'s appreciation was enough to make them sure of their good deed. "l"03, he's for you," Pamela said quickly. "We—we very much hope you'll like him." "I think he's beautiful. Are you sure von can spare him for me?" "We've, got to, or else . . ." began Peter, while Pamela nudged him. "He stole a. herring this morning," ho went on, "from cook, and nurse said . . ." "Shut up, you silly," hissed Pamela, "or perhaps auntie won't keep him, case ho steals her herrings, an' I won't have him drowned."

"Of course he won't bo drowned," Aunt Bertha reassured them. "lie's a dear little cat and he will stay with me, won't you, ]'"onrpa\vs?" And Fourpaws purred like a Rolls Royee. They st-ayed for the rest of tho morning, half-consoiouslv putting off the moment the kitten jiuW be left behind. Eventually Pamela derided they must be going, "as nurse will want to wash us," she explained. "I think that will be quite likely," smiled auntie with a glance at Peter's knees. She watched them go towards the gate, hand in hand. And her quizzical smile was very understanding.