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Updated: July 23, 2025
Just as its light came stealing on through the willowy fringe to touch the waters of the pond there arose, from the dark grove opposite the mill, a rapturous song. "What's that?" cried Tim, in startled joy. "A catbird," answered John McIntyre. "Oh, say! That's the little beggar that was meyowing jist now, ain't it?" "Yes." "Billy Winters always said it was a wildcat, and was scarder'n a rabbit.
"He seemed to be in a garden, at the foot of a lilac-bush." Mother Michel instantly ran to the garden, where, as you may imagine, she did not find Moumouth. During the whole day Lustucru amused himself by giving her false exultations, which were followed by increased despondency. "Mother Michel," said he, "just now, in passing the store-room, I thought I heard a kind of meyowing."
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