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Jazbury came scampering gaily up the stairs to where his mother and Aunt Tabby were sitting on the window-sill washing their faces and cleaning their fur.Jazbury was a small black kitten with white markings on his face and breast, and soft little white paws. Soft as those little paws were there were sharp, needle claws hidden in their velvet, and Jazbury knew how to use them when necessary, too.Mother Bunch's tail hung down from the window-seat, waving softly. It looked almost like a mouse, so soft and grey. Jazbury made a jump, and caught it with his claws. His mother growled and drew her tail up and curled it around her.Jazbury jumped up after it, and tried to tease his mother into playing with him."Jazbury, you haven't washed yourself this morning," said his aunt severely. "Look at your paws. You've been in the coal-bin again, you naughty kitten.""Well, I thought I heard a mouse there," mewed Jazbury.
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Seitenzahl: 63
Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024
Katharine Pyle
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ISBN: 978-605-7876-67-6
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Jazbury, Fluffy and Yowler
THREE LITTLE KITTENS
WRITTEN AND ILLUSTRATED
BY
KATHARINE PYLE
Author of "Six Little Ducklings,"
"Two Little Mice," etc.
NEW YORK
Jazbury came scampering gaily up the stairs to where his mother and Aunt Tabby were sitting on the window-sill washing their faces and cleaning their fur.
Jazbury was a small black kitten with white markings on his face and breast, and soft little white paws. Soft as those little paws were there were sharp, needle claws hidden in their velvet, and Jazbury knew how to use them when necessary, too.
Mother Bunch's tail hung down from the window-seat, waving softly. It looked almost like a mouse, so soft and grey. Jazbury made a jump, and caught it with his claws. His mother growled and drew her tail up and curled it around her.
Jazbury jumped up after it, and tried to tease his mother into playing with him.
"Jazbury, you haven't washed yourself this morning," said his aunt severely. "Look at your paws. You've been in the coal-bin again, you naughty kitten."
"Well, I thought I heard a mouse there," mewed Jazbury.
"A mouse! What would a mouse be doing in the coal-bin? No, you just wanted an excuse for clambering about among the coal and making it rattle. And now look how dirty you are."
"Sit down and make yourself clean, Jazbury," said his mother. "No; let my tail alone. I'm not going to play with you. And if you want any breakfast you'd better make haste to wash yourself. I will not have such a dirty kitten eating from the saucer with me."
Jazbury sat down and began to wash his face with one of his grimy little paws.
His aunt sighed. "Paws first," she said. "You'll only make yourself dirtier if you try to wash your face before you clean your paws."
"Oh, dear me!" mewed Jazbury crossly.
"I really don't know what's going to become of you if you don't keep yourself cleaner," his aunt went on. "I'm really afraid something terrible may happen to you. I knew a cat once who wouldn't wash herself, and so her mistress used to do it for her with water, so she was wet all over. Water and soap! And a sponge! How would you feel if that happened to you some day? And it may unless you learn to keep yourself cleaner."
Jazbury was frightened at the thought that such a thing might happen to him, too, if he didn't keep himself clean, and he set about washing himself in earnest. First he washed his paws, and after he had cleaned them he cleaned his face, licking his paw with his little pink tongue, and curling it round over his furry little cheeks and forehead and chin and even behind his ears. By breakfast time he was clean enough to be allowed to eat with his mother and Aunt Tabby.
The human people and the cat people had their breakfast at the same time. The human people had theirs in the dining-room, and the cat people had theirs in the pantry. The cat people always had very good meals; bread and milk, and fish twice a week, and sometimes meat and potatoes.
"What's the use of my bothering to catch mice?" Jazbury often said. "I get all I want to eat anyway."
And his aunt would answer, "You ought to feel grateful enough for your good meals to want to catch mice for people."
But Jazbury paid little attention to such advice. All he cared for was having a good time and play about, and if mice had to be caught he left it to his mother and Aunt Tabby to do it.
The cat people always had very good meals
Jazbury's best friend was a little white kitten named Fluffy. Fluffy lived in the house next door to Jazbury's.
At the other side of Jazbury's house was an open lot. The gentlemen cats of the neighbourhood had a club that met in this lot every night. It was a singing club, but sometimes the cats quarrelled among themselves, and were very noisy. Mother Bunch and Aunt Tabby said they wished the cats would meet some other place; but Jazbury liked to hear them. He wished he were old enough to belong to the club, and sing and fight, and stay out all night the way they did. But he was still only a soft, playful little kitten, who had not even caught his first mouse as yet.
Once Jazbury had climbed up on the fence, and jumped over into the lot. There he had prowled about among the weeds, and chased grasshoppers, and shiny black crickets. It was great fun.
Another kitten was hunting there, too, but he was hunting birds. He laughed at Jazbury for catching grasshoppers. He told Jazbury his name was Yowler, and that he belonged to the baker who lived further down the street. Yowler had a broad, ugly face and a stubby tail, and his fur looked dirty and uncared for. He was a yellow cat.
Jazbury liked him because he was strong and big and bold, but when Jazbury told his mother about Yowler she said she did not want Jazbury to play with him. She said she knew all about him; that he was a very coarse, noisy cat, and she told Jazbury he must not go over in the lot again.
Jazbury was allowed to go over into Fluffy's yard whenever he wanted to. Mother Bunch and Aunt Tabby both liked Fluffy. They thought he was a very nice, well-behaved little kitten.
One day when Jazbury climbed up on the fence that separated his yard from Fluffy's he saw his little friend sitting down on the kitchen steps, watching something in the grass below him. He was so intent on what he saw that he did not notice Jazbury.
"Hello, Fluffy!" mewed Jazbury.
Fluffy jumped. Then he looked around.
"Hello!"
"What you got there?" asked Jazbury curiously.
"A toad."
"Going to catch it?"
"No, I don't like them. They haven't any fur, and I don't like the feel of them."
"Well, come on up here. I want to show you something."
Fluffy climbed up a step-ladder that was leaning against the fence.
"What are you going to show me?"
"Do you see this fence? Well, I walked all the way round on the top of it yesterday, and never fell off once."
Fluffy looked at the fence in silence for a moment or so. Then he said, "That's not so much to do."
"I guess it is, too. You couldn't do it."
"Yes, I could, if I wanted to."
"Well, let's see you."
"I don't want to."
"You're afraid."
"No, I'm not, either."
"Yes, you are, too."
"Fraidy cat! Fraidy cat!
Never catch a mouse or rat."
"I can; I can catch mice. And I can walk on the fence, too. I'll show you."
"Walk to the post and back and I'll give you a chicken bone I found down back of the rain-barrel."