And I'll bring the other one in for you."
But evidently Eleanor did not understand little-girl talk as well as
Betsy understood cat-talk, for a little later, as Betsy turned from the
nest she was making in the corner behind the stove, Eleanor was missing;
and when she ran out toward the barn she met her again, her head
strained painfully back, dragging another fat, heavy kitten, who curled
his pink feet up as high as he could in a vain effort not to have them
knock against the stones. "Now, Eleanor," said Betsy, a little put out,
"you don't trust me enough! I was going to get it all right!"
"Well," said Aunt Abigail, as they came into the kitchen, "now you must
begin to teach them to drink."
"Goodness!" said Betsy, "don't they know how to drink already?"
"You try them and see," said Aunt Abigail with a mysterious smile.
So when Uncle Henry brought the pails full of fragrant, warm milk into
the house, Betsy poured out some in a saucer and put the kittens up to
it. She and Molly squatted down on their heels to watch, and before long
they were laughing so that they were rolling on the kitchen floor. At
first the kittens looked every way but at the milk, seeming to see
everything but what was under their noses. Then Graykin (that was
Betsy's) absent-mindedly walked right through the saucer, emerging with
very wet feet and a very much aggrieved and astonished expression.
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