“I must get him something to eat,” said Mary. “Perhaps I can tempt him to make friends.” And running into the house she returned with a saucer of milk and a bit of meat, which she set down close to the house. “Kitty! Kitty! Kitty!” she called, in a tone of invitation.

“Miaou!” cried the forlorn cat again. But he did not come forth from his hiding-place.

“I shall have to go away, and give him a chance to eat when I am not by,” thought Mary. And this she did. From her chamber window she could just manage to watch the hole under the ell. After a long time she was rewarded by seeing the cat’s head emerge from the hole. For[54] a minute he stared around with wild eyes, his body ready to spring. But finding himself safe, he hungrily seized the meat and retreated with it under the house. Presently he came out again, licking his chops eagerly, and began to lap the milk, retreating every now and then as if some fancied sound alarmed him. The poor creature’s sides were so thin that he resembled a cut-out pasteboard cat. His tail was like that of a long black rat. He seemed to be wearing a collar about his neck.

[54]

“He must have been somebody’s pet cat,” said Mary to herself. “I must try to tame him.”

But it took a great deal of time and patience to make friends with the poor black pussy, which had evidently been greatly frightened and almost starved. Day after day Mary set out the saucer of milk and a bit of meat. And each time she did so, she talked kindly to the cat hidden under the house, hoping that he would come out while she was still there. But it was many days before she got more than the mournful “Miaou!” in answer to her coaxing words.

At last, one day, after waiting a long time beside the saucer of milk and a particularly savory plate of chicken-bones, Mary was rewarded by seeing the cat timidly thrust out his head while[55] she was talking. He drew back almost immediately. But finally the smell of the chicken tempted him beyond caution, and he got up courage to face this stranger who seemed to show no evil intentions. He snatched a chicken-bone and vanished. But this was the beginning of friendship.

[55]

The next day the cat came out almost immediately when Mary called him. Presently he would take things from her hand, timidly at first, then with increasing confidence, when he found that nothing dreadful happened. But still Mary had no chance to examine the collar, 

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