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Updated: May 3, 2025
Elsmere, on the wood-box, was contentedly jiggling the velvet birds, which had been the first cause of all the excitement. At the sight of Max's angry face, he jumped up. "I got to go," he said hastily. "I'm awful busy. Must find my cat-pussy. I losted her when she scratched me." "Sensible cat," growled Archie, taking Elsmere by the collar. "I wish she had losted you. Here, Mrs.
His own cat-pussy had gone away, tired of abuse and starvation irregularly combined with affection in the form of embraces and sugar, and Elsmere's heart had grieved for her. Here was another, and he could find out by actual experiment whether the velvet birds in the library would deceive her. Clutching the spitting, clawing creature to his bosom, he trotted off to the library.
Algernon cleared his throat and took up the thread of his narrative. "Pittsburg, this fellow Chapman in the Review says, spends two million dollars a year on " "Talking, talking, all the time Algy talking," Elsmere broke in. "I want to talk. Tell Caffrin 'bout my cat-pussy. Her awful sick. Her " Catherine sprang up. Elsmere's conversation often needed to be suppressed. "Let's play tennis.
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