The Story of Jennie- or the Abandoned Read Online Free PDF Page A

when people offered to share something with you at a sacrifice to themselves, it was not considered kind or polite to refuse.
    ‘You begin at the head,’ the tabby cat declared firmly.
    Peter closed his eyes and took a small and tentative nibble.
    To his intense surprise, it was simply delicious.
    It was so good that before he realized it, Peter had eaten it up from the beginning of its nose to the very end of its tail. And only then did he experience a sudden pang of remorse at what he had done in his moment of greediness. He had very likely eaten up his benefactress' ration for the week. And by the look of her thin body and the ribs sticking through the fur, it had been longer than that since she had had a solid meal herself.
    But she did not seem to mind in the least. On the contrary, she appeared to be pleased with him as she beamed down at him and said, ‘There, that wasn't so bad, was it? My tail, but you were hungry!’
    Peter said, ‘I'm sorry. I'm afraid I've eaten your dinner.’
    The tabby smiled cheerfully. ‘Don't give it another thought, laddie! Plenty more where that one came from.’ But even though the smile and the voice were cheerful, yet Peter detected a certain wan quality about it that told him that this was not so, and that she had indeed made a great sacrifice for him, generously and with sweet grace.
    She was eyeing him curiously now, it seemed to Peter almost as though she was expecting something of him, but he did not know what it was and so just lay quietly enjoying the feeling of being fed once again. The tabby opened her mouth as though she were going to say something, but then apparently thought better of it, turned, and gave her back a couple of quick licks.
    Peter felt as though something he did not quite understand had sprung up to come between them, something awkward. To cover his own embarrassment about it, he asked: ‘Where am I?.I mean, are we?’
    ‘Oh,’ said the tabby, ‘this is where I live. Temporarily, of course. You know how it is with us, and if you don't, you'll soon find out. Though I must say it's months since I've been disturbed here. I know a secret way in. It's a warehouse where they store furniture for people. I picked this room because I liked the bed. There are lots of others.’
    Now Peter remembered having learned in school what the crown and the ‘N' stood for, and couldn't resist showing off. He said, ‘The bed must have belonged to Napoleon, once. That's his initial up there, and the crown. He was a great emperor.’
    The tabby did not appear to be at all impressed. She merely remarked, ‘Was he, now? He must have been enormously large to want a bed this size. Still.I must say it is comfortable, and, I don't suppose he has any further use for it, for he hasn't been here to fetch it in the last three months and neither has anybody else. You're quite welcome to stay here as long as you like. I gather you've been turned out. Who was it mauled you? You were more than half dead when I found you last night lying in the street and dragged you in here.’
    Peter told the tabby of his encounter with the yellow tomcat in the grain warehouse down by the docks. She listened to his tale with alert and evident sympathy, and when he had finished, nodded and said: ‘Oh dear! Yes, that would be Dempsey. He's the best fighter on the docks from Wapping all the way down to Limehouse Reach. Everybody steers clear of Dempsey. I say, you did have a nerve, telling him off! I admire you for that even if it was foolhardy. No house pets are much good at rough-and-tumble, and particularly against a champion like Dempsey.’
    Peter liked the tabby's admiration, he found, and swelled a little with it. He wished that he had managed to give Dempsey just one stiff blow to remember him by, and thought that perhaps some time he would. But then he recalled the big tom's last words: ‘And don't come back. Because next time you do, I'll surely kill you,’ and felt a little sick,