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Updated: May 6, 2025
The cat mewed in answer and stalked again stiffly round a leg of the table, mewing. Just how she stalks over my writingtable. Prr. Scratch my head. Prr. Mr Bloom watched curiously, kindly the lithe black form. Clean to see: the gloss of her sleek hide, the white button under the butt of her tail, the green flashing eyes. He bent down to her, his hands on his knees. Milk for the pussens, he said.
I never saw such a stupid pussens as the pussens. Cruel. Her nature. Curious mice never squeal. Seem to like it. Mrkrgnao! the cat said loudly. She blinked up out of her avid shameclosing eyes, mewing plaintively and long, showing him her milkwhite teeth. He watched the dark eyeslits narrowing with greed till her eyes were green stones.
The sudden opening of a door gave him quite a start, and turning quickly, he saw Daddy, who said good naturedly, "I guess ye're skeered ain't ye? 'Tween you an' me I've felt ruther shaky myself lately in this ere great big house, where there is so much spare room, fur ghosts and sperits of pussens is apt fur to hang around the house where they die."
"'Tween you and me hosses is like pussens, they ken be coaxed better than driv, fur generally speakin, coaxing brings 'em round when driving won't. It always makes my blood brile tu see a hoss abused, and the men that du it ain't much better than them are liquor sellers, and I have always said that they were the meanest of God's creation.
"The airs that cat puts on are perfectly intolerable," declared Stella. "Him was a nice old pussens, him was," vowed Anne, cuddling her pet defiantly. "Well, I don't know how he and the Sarah-cat will ever make out to live together," said Stella pesimistically. "Cat-fights in the orchard o'nights are bad enough. But cat-fights here in the livingroom are unthinkable."
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