The Ragged Trousered Philanthropists
'Well, I must be going. They'll be thinking I'm lost at home.'
The kitten had finished all the bread and milk and was gravely washing its face with one of its fore paws, to the great delight of the two children, who were sitting on the floor beside it. It was an artful looking kitten, all black, with a very large head and a very small body. It reminded Owen of a tadpole.
'Do you like cats?' he asked, addressing the children.
'Yes,' said the boy; 'give it to us, will you, mister?'
'Oh, do leave it 'ere, mister,' exclaimed the little girl; 'I'll look after it.'
'So will I,' said the boy.
'But haven't you one of your own?' asked Owen.
'Yes, we've got a big one.'
'Well, if you have one already and I give you this, then you'd have two cats, and I'd have none. That wouldn't be fair, would it?'
'Well, you can 'ave a lend of our cat for a little while if you give us this kitten,' said the boy, after a moment's thought.
'Why would you rather have the kitten?'
'Because it would play; our cat don't want to play, it's too old.'
'Perhaps you're too rough with it,' returned Owen.
'No, it aint that; it's just because it's old.'
'You know cats is just the same as people,' explained the little girl, wisely; 'when they're grown up I suppose they've got their troubles to think about.'
Owen wondered how long it would be before her troubles commenced. As he gazed at these two little orphans he thought of his own child, and of the rough and thorny way they would all three have to travel if they were so unfortunate as to outlive their childhood.
'Can we 'ave it, mister?' repeated the boy.
Owen would have liked to grant the children's request, but he wanted the kitten himself. Therefore he was relieved when their grandmother exclaimed:
'We don't want no more cats 'ere. We've got one already; that's quite enough.'
She was not yet quite satisfied in her mind that the creature was not an incarnation of the devil; but whether it was or not she did not want it, or anything else of Owen's, in the
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