THE DEAD KITTEN.

DON’T talk to me of parties, Nan; really, I can not go. When folks are in affliction they don’t go out, you know. I have a new brown sash, too; it seems a pity, eh? That such a dreadful trial should have come just yesterday. The play-house blinds are all pulled down as dark as it can be, It looks so very solemn and so proper, don’t you see? And I have a piece of crape pinned on my dolly’s hat; Tom says it is ridiculous for only just a cat. But boys are all so horrid! They always, every one, Delight in teasing little girls and kitties, “just for fun.” The way he used to pull her tail—it makes me angry now— And scat her up the cherry-tree to make the darling “meow.” I’ve had her all the summer. One day, away last spring, I heard a frightful barking, and I saw the little thing In the corner of a fence; ’twould have made you laugh outright To see how every hair stood out, and how she tried to fight. I shooed the dog away, she jumped upon my arm; The pretty creature knew I wouldn’ do her any harm; I hugged her close, and carried her to mamma, and she said She should be my own Kitty, if I’d see that she was fed. A cunning little dot she was, with silky, soft, gray fur; She’d be for hours on my lap, and I could hear her purr, And then she’d frolic after when I pulled a string about, Or try to catch her tail or roll a marble in and out. Such comfort she has been to me I’m sure no one can tell, Unless some other little girl who loves her pussy well. I’ve heard about a Maltese cross; but my dear little Kit Was always sweet and amiable, and never cross a bit! But, oh, last week I missed her! I hunted all around; My darling little pussy cat was nowhere to be found, I knelt and whispered softly, when nobody could see: “Take care of little Kitty, please and bring her back to me.” I found her lying yesterday behind the lower shed; I thought my heart was broken when I found that she was dead. Tom promised me another one, but even he can see No other Kitty ever will be just the same to me. I can’t go to your party, Mamie. Macaroons, you say? And ice-cream? I know I ought to try and not give way; And I feel it would be doing wrong to disappoint you so, Well, if I’m equal to it by to-morrow, I may go.