was Pussyanita, a beautiful creature just out of kittenhood. Her playfulness and sweet disposition made her beloved by all.

Alas! it was soon made known by the judges that the dark of Pussyanita measured many less hairs than her white ones. This caused great sorrow, and King Grimalkum was begged to spare her life.

“Spare her life! Not if she were twenty Pussyanitas!” cried the King; which was a foolish answer, since she could not have been twenty Pussyanitas, or even nineteen.

Now this sweet and gentle creature was so much beloved, that no one could be found willing to hurt a single hair of her. When King Grimalkum heard this he became furious with anger, and commanded that she be brought to him at once, saying that he himself would attend to the business, and make quick work of it. So the lovely Pussyanita was brought before the King.

Her loveliness did not soften his heart; on the contrary he was made more furious than ever by seeing that she sat licking her fur as quietly as if sitting in her own sunny garden spot.

“What are you doing that for, you silly thing?” he cried. “Don’t you know you have but a few moments to live?”

“Yes, your majesty,” replied the lovely Pussyanita, “but I cannot endure a speck of dirt, and with good reason, for in me you see a descendant, and great, great, great, great, great, twenty-seven times great grandchild of the unhappy and happy Pinky-white. Your majesty must have heard of Pinky-white.”

“Never,” said the king, sternly. “But why do you call her unhappy and happy? There is no sense in that.”

“She was not unhappy and happy at the same time,” said Pussyanita. “She was first unhappy and afterwards happy.”

“How was that?” asked the king. “And supposing you _are_ the great, great, great, great, great, twenty-seven times great granddaughter of Pinky-white, what has that to do with your being unable to endure a speck of dirt?”

Said the lovely Pussyanita, “It would give me pleasure, your majesty, to explain why my great, great, great, great, great, twenty-seven times great grandmother was first unhappy, and why she was afterwards happy, also supposing I _am_ the great, great, great, great, great, twenty-seven times great granddaughter of Pinky-white, what that has to do with my being unable to endure a speck of dirt; it would give me pleasure, I say, to explain all this, but it 

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