The Choice of Jeffy.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXXII, Issue I, 2 January 1904, Page 57

The Choice of Jeffy.

(By Annie Hamilton Donnell.) "There's live!” Jeffy announced at dinner. He had spent nearly all the morning with them, and he was in the “addition table ’ at school, so he knew. “Five? What a lot!” mama said, interest ediv. “Are thev all prettv ones, Jelly?” “Yes’m, all ’cept just one. He’s ugly. I guess it makes him ache, for he keeps a-crying. The other thr—four" —Jeffy had not got to the “subtraction table" yet. so av was not surprising he said three at first—“the other four,” he corrected himself, “are puflickly beauties, yes. sir! You ought to see ’em. mama!” At tea-time there was another announcement. This time Jeffy's face was radiant. “I can have one!" he shouted, in his excitement. “Mrs. Jumper says so! She says I can have first choice—there” “Why. isn’t that beautiful, dear!” mama said. “Which one are son goino to choose?” “Oh, 1 can’t tell yet —’sif! I’m going over every day an' decide. It takes a great deal of'time. There’s a white-an’-black one. an* a black-an’-white one. and two little Malty ones all over." “And the ugly one. Jeffy." “Yes’m, of course, the ugly one." "Does it still make him ache?” Mama's voice was pitying and gentle. “It must be awful to be as uglv as that, Jeffy!” "He keeps on a-crying,” Jelly replied. He aid not care to talk about the ugly one. Every day Jeffy went over to Mrs. Jumper's to decide. He decided differently every day. Monday he chose the white-and-black Kitty; Tuesday, the black-and-white one. Wednesday he decided on the Maltiest Malty one. But on none of the days—Thursday nor Friday—did he choose the ugly one. Jeffy thought it grew, if anything, a little uglier. Friday at dinner Jeffy announced his latest decision. “I think the Maltv one that isn’t

ipii-ite so Malty,” he said. “That one’s got such a pullickly beautiful little face! But I'm going to take one .lav more to decide.' Saturday there was no school, and Jelly could spend all the time he like! up in the sweet, clovery haymow deciding. He lay stretched out beside the little scooped-out nest in the hay, and stroked one after the other of the tiny, soft kitties with his kind little hands—-

all but the ugly one. Jeffy did not strok- the ugly one. He was a little afraid to. for fear—but of course there was not any real danger. The idea of choosing the ugly one! Still, the little forlorn crying kind of hurt; you could not help hearing it. W hen Jeffy went home on Saturday he had his kitty snuggled up in his blouse. It was purring as if it was having a beautiful time.

'A\hy! Mama took a peep. “Why, Jeffy, it’s the ugly one!” 'He's a very nice kitty,” Jeffy said, stiffly. 1 hen he fell to stroking tha warm ball of fur. and his kind little Huger- were very tender. Then after a while he explained softly; "1 took him up for a minute just to comfort him, liecause he was crying ami so mis’ble, and 1 found out that he was tile most lovingest one of all.”