"I'll ring it again," which she did, vigorously.
But another hour slipped by, and still he did not appear, much to Dexie's
disgust and annoyance.
While standing by the window waiting his appearance, she became aware of a
great event that was taking place in the backyard. It happened that a pet
cat had met with some accident that had deprived it of life, and the
children were indulging in a funeral. A grave had been dug at the back
corner of the yard, and the procession of mourners was marching back and
forth across the yard with many twists and turns, to make it last longer,
until it at last reached the open grave. Georgie Sherwood, who marched in
the front of the procession, with the remains in a raisin-box, now
deposited it in its last resting-place, while the little Gurneys, who were
sedately following, wailed aloud.
When the grave was covered to their satisfaction, Frankie Gurney came into
the house with Georgie, holding a piece of smooth, white marble, and asked
Dexie if she would write something on it, for it was to be the cat's
tombstone.
"Say that she was the prettiest and best-behaved cat in Halifax, and that
she left a large family of sorrowing kittens behind her.
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