WALTON'S KITTY AGAIN.
Dear Jack: A while ago I told in ST. NICHOLAS something about
"Walton's Kitty," that loves music and climbs upon any one who
sings to her, putting her head as close as can be to the lips of
the singer. Now, here is another true story about this same cat:
In the summer, Walton's aunt used to set the milk in a cool closet,
in a pitcher with a long, narrow neck, but day after day, when
teatime came, every drop of that milk was gone. Nobody drank it,
nobody used it, nobody spilled it. "Walton's Kitty" and all her
descendants were clear of suspicion, because of the long, narrow
neck of that pitcher. So everybody watched and waited to find out
how the milk went.
And this is what they saw: There sat "Walton's Kitty," dipping her
paw deep down into the pitcher, taking it out, and then lapping the
milk from it! If she dropped the smallest drop, she stopped and
cleaned that up, and then went on. As the milk dwindled to the
bottom of the pitcher she shook her paw around; and she never left
off until every drop of milk was gone!
Since then, the milk for tea stands in a covered pitcher, but
"Walton's Kitty" has hers in a tall, narrow goblet.
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