A KITTEN STORY.
[To THE EDITOR Or THE "SPECTATOR.] SIR,—Perhaps, some time, you might be willing to find space for the following kitten story. The kitten in question—a white half-Persian--was nine days old yesterday, and its eyelids were only just beginning to open a very little at the inside corners when a strange but quite friendly puppy came and smelt it as it lay in its basket. The mother cat was away at the moment, so it got no hints from her. Yet it knew at once what its race expected of a cat of spirit, and though it was not strong enough to arch its back, it swore and spat with vigour. And a still more remarkable thing was that, though still blind, it perfectly understood that the dog whose nose approached it was not the dog of the house. Both were wire-haired fox- terriers, but the older dog often smells, and even paws it, eliciting no remonstrances whatever from either cat or kitten.
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