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Updated: June 22, 2025
He was in a cage with a fail-safe door; the kind that are hinged at the bottom if they aren't positively latched shut, they fall open so you'll know to latch them." Arlen swirled the whiskey around in his glass. "In three years, Tootsie never got out of his cage. The next morning, I got up and went into the living room. 'Goodbye, Toots, I said. 'Toots? He wasn't in his cage.
She could not quench the fury of the angered cats. "That that's my Alice-doll's next-to-best dress, Bungle!" she managed to say. "You're tearing it! you're tearing it!" Just then the door opened. Uncle Rufus came tottering in with the feather duster. The old man's rheumatism still troubled him and he was not steady on his feet. Tootsie saw a way of escape.
"But Roscoe knew. It's selling to-day at twenty- four." "I sold mine from the steamer by wireless at twenty even," Bella continued. "And now Abbie's wildly dressmaking. She's going with May and Tootsie to Paris." "And Carl?" Martha queried. "Oh, he'll finish Yale all right " "Which he would have done anyway, and you KNOW it," Martha charged, lapsing charmingly into twentieth-century slang.
'I'm leaving in the morning, I told him. 'It's not your fault; it's not William's fault; it's not anybody's fault. We just didn't quite make it, that's all. Almost, but not quite. Tootsie listened to me. You know how they do, with their heads cocked to one side.
Yet she was not wholly assured that Tootsie was not hurt until the older girls had trailed the Pomeranian under the bed in one of the chambers. She had only been hurt in her feelings. The cats could not seem to calm down either, and Uncle Rufus had to hold one after the other while Dot removed what remained of the doll's clothes, in which she had decked out her favorites.
Leland Norton has a number of magnificent cats. It was she who adopted Miss Frances Willard's "Tootsie," the famous cat which made two thousand dollars for the temperance cause. Miss Nella B. Wheatley has very fine kennels, and raises some beautiful cats. Her Taffy is a beautiful buff and white Angora, which has been very much admired. Her cats have been sold to go to many other cities.
There was no cover there for the terrified pup, and when the two cats clawing at the dresses and threatening vengeance came after the dog, Tootsie tried to crawl under the three-sided walnut "whatnot" that stood in the corner between the windows. The whatnot was shaky, having only three short, spindle legs. Tootsie darted under and then darted out again.
"Birds can be your friends," Arlen said. "People don't realize." He looked out the window. "I had a parakeet once. His name was Tootsie." "Tootsie," Oliver repeated, sipping whiskey. "An ordinary parakeet, green and yellow but Tootsie could sing! A wonderful singer." Arlen looked back at Oliver. "Parakeets are tough, you know. They are little parrots, actually, strong birds." "Really? Parrots?
"Tootsie" went to Rest Cottage, the home of Frances Willard, when only a kitten, and there he lived, the pet of the household and its guests, until several years ago, when Miss Willard prepared to go abroad. Then she took Tootsie in her arms, carried him to the Drexel kennels in Chicago, and asked their owner, Mrs.
The Pomeranian was too scared, and Bungle and Popocatepetl were too angry. Tootsie saw her enemies just as the cats leaped. Hampered by the garments Dot had put upon them, both Bungle and Popocatepetl went head-over-heels when they first landed on the floor, and with a frightened "ki, yi!" Tootsie distanced them to the far end of the room.
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