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the poor lad had hid himself, from the shame of being the only one incapable of benefiting by his master's liberal offer. Miss begged she might call him; when her voice instantly drew him forth, and she would not return to the parlour without him.
"You have been weeping," said she, "with Puss, I suppose; but wherefore do you shed tears thus, over a creature that neither can understand your grief, nor in any degree soothe it?" "She does both," replied Whittington: "she is lively when I am lively, and sorrowful when I am sorrowful; for, pardon my freedom, Miss, she reads my feelings, as you have had the goodness to do, in my face."
Whittington assured his master he had every due sense of his kindness, but had not an article he could call his own. His young lady entreated she might buy something for him; but her father told her that would not do, for it must be his own, to be a fortunato venture. "You have, Dick, a cat," said Miss. The poor lad burst into tears; but his master's ear having
