My
thoughts, however, were presently interrupted by something soft
rubbing against me, and looking down, I beheld Dorothy's fluffy
kitten Louise. Upon my attempting to pick her up, she bounded
from me in that remarkable sideways fashion peculiar to her kind,
and stood regarding me from a distance, her tail straight up in
the air and her mouth opening and shutting without a sound. At
length having given vent to a very feeble attempt at a mew, she
zig-zagged to me, and climbing upon my knee, immediately fell into
a purring slumber.
"Hallo, Unc1e Dick! - I mean, what ho, Little John!" cried a voice,
and looking over my shoulder, carefully so as nor to disturb the
balance of "Louise," I beheld the Imp. It needed but a glance at
the bow in his hand, the three arrows in his belt, and the feather
in his cap to tell me who he was for the time being.
"How now, Robin?" I inquired.
"I'm a bitter, disappointed man, Uncle Dick!" he answered, putting
up a hand to feel if his feather was in place.
"Are you?"
"Yes the book says that Robin Hood was 'bitter an' disappointed' an'
so am I.
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