"What else could they be in that hole? Have
a care, woman! or the Heir-to-Empire will be blacking himself, too. The
archway is large enough for him to creep in, and Heaven only knows
whither it might lead."
"That is true," replied Foster-mother, alarmed, as she distracted the
child's attention.
But in a day or two his quick ear caught the sound of a feeble mewing
inside the arch, and, of course, he wanted to know what it was. So he
was told that kittens had to be kept quiet and that Down would be very
vexed if her kitten was disturbed; but that by-and-bye she would
doubtless bring it out for him to see, and then, of course, he could
play with it. Now, Baby Akbar was always a reasonable little fellow, so
he waited patiently; though every night when he went to bed and Down
came out for her supper, his little mouth would go down and he would
hold up his little hands and twiddle them round and say mournfully:
"Kitty not 'weady. Kitty not 'weady."
Now, one night there was a great festival in the palace, and the
Heir-to-Empire had to go and pay his respects, after the Indian manner
on feast days, to his aunt and uncle. Then, when he returned, they sent
him, after Indian wont, trays full of fruit and sugar-toffee made in the
shape of animals, and a few pieces of muslin and stuffs to make new
dresses for the party. In addition to this there was a trayful of
supper, which came afterward, when daylight had gone, with the Princess
Sultanum's best compliments.
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