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Updated: May 23, 2025
"Hyar!" he shouted, shaking his fist angrily, "don't you shoot my dog, you or I'll be the death of ye!" "Oh, I don't know," responded Creede, bristling back at him. "Keep the blame pup away, then and keep that other dog away, too, or my cat'll eat 'im up! Well, I notice you took the occasion to come down and sheep me out," he observed, as Swope pulled up before the door.
'Well, I suppose I must say thank ye: but what comes next? What am I to do to pay the damages? We informed him that for this particular little service we asked no return. 'No, no, said he, 'that'll not go down: that cat'll not jump. I'm not green enough for that.
"I reckon we hain't skeercely got no preacher handy ter test her with," interrupted the master of ceremonies drily, and the other went on. "Ef she stays hyar 'twell midnight a sperit in ther guise of a black cat'll appear ter do her biddin'." On the ground lay the saddle-bags and the rifle; as yet unmolested.
"Give me that rifle, quick!" said the forester. "That cat'll kill the pup in another minute." He seized the weapon, sank on one knee, quickly sighted along the barrel, and pulled the trigger. Even as he fired, the cat leaped toward the pup. For a second there was a terrific scuffling in the leaves.
Like as not the priest'll see old Carriller to-morrow, and then the cat'll come out. I kin git outen it all right enough I'll say as how the old man didn't see you, that you were restin' on the other side of the wall. Like as not he'll believe me, but he thinks you're pointed fur home, and if he wants you badly, he'll follow. You'd better go South fur a month or so and go home by barque.
"Not a bit of it!" exclaimed Cadbury. "Depend upon it, she's been at our chicken. The shameless, thieving beast!" "At yours, Cad?" This was uttered in chorus. "At mine ours! It's a treat for us all. I was going to wait till lights were out, but I daren't now. The cat'll have the rest if we aren't quick; perhaps she's eaten it already. Keep cave by the door, Jack, while I haul in the line."
'Be as soft as a mouse, or the Cat'll hear us. I understood this to mean Miss Murdstone, and was sensible of the urgency of the case; her room being close by. 'How's mama, dear Peggotty? Is she very angry with me? I could hear Peggotty crying softly on her side of the keyhole, as I was doing on mine, before she answered. 'No. Not very. 'What is going to be done with me, Peggotty dear?
But it looked exactly like he'd brought over the diny for me to admire, like a cat'll show dead mice to a person she thinks will be interested!" "Holy St. Patrick!" said the solicitor general, appalled. "What'll happen now?"
"I don't believe the cat'll 'cotch' me any more for singing, and it's ever so much more fun than 'tis to cry." In fact, there was no particular reason that Allie should not sing, for life looked very attractive to her that morning.
When they came to the tall poplars which marked the entrance to the park, Silvey looked down and viewed the fruit of their morning's labors with disgust. "He's awful small," he said shamefacedly. "Throw him into the bushes." John raised the diminutive perch into the air and regarded it glumly. "Cat'll eat him, I guess." "Have to sneak home the back way, then," said Silvey.
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