and the sincerity which are characteristic of our domestic animals have a far stronger and more definite effect on the mind of a child than the long exhortations of some dry, pale Karl Karlovitch, or the misty expositions of a governess, trying to prove to children that water is made up of hydrogen and oxygen.
"What little things!" says Nina, opening her eyes wide and going off into a joyous laugh. "They are like mice!"
"One, two, three," Vanya counts. "Three kittens. So there is one for you, one for me, and one for somebody else, too."
"Murrm . . . murrm . . ." purrs the mother, nattered by their attention. "Murrm."
After gazing at the kittens, the children take them from under the cat, and begin squeezing them in their hands, then, not satisfied with this, they put them in the skirts of their nightgowns, and run into the other rooms.
"Mamma, the cat has got pups!" they shout.
Mamma is sitting in the drawing-room with some unknown gentleman. Seeing the children unwashed, undressed, with their nightgowns held up high, she is embarrassed, and looks at them severely.
"Let your nightgowns down, disgraceful children," she says. "Go out of the room, or I will punish you."
But the children do not notice either mamma's threats or the presence of a stranger. They put the kittens down on the carpet, and go off into deafening squeals. The mother walks round
