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

that I might be hungry too. Not that I minded, but a real cat would never have done that Oh and then, of course.that's what I was trying to remember! You ate mouse right on the silk counterpane where you've been sleeping, and you didn't wash after you'd finished …’
    Peter said, ‘Why should I? We always wash before eating. At least, Nanny always sends me into the bathroom and makes me clean my hands and face before sitting down to table.’
    ‘Well, cats don't!' declared Jennie decisively, ‘and it seems to me much the more sensible way. It's after you've eaten you find yourself all greasy and sticky, with milk on your whiskers and gravy all over your fur if you've been in too much of a hurry. Oh dear! she ended up. ‘That almost proves it. But I must say I've never heard of such a thing in all my life!’
    Peter thought to himself, ‘She is good, and she has been kind to me, but she does love to chatter.’ Aloud, he said, ‘If you would like me to tell you how it all happened, perhaps.’
    ‘Yes, do, please,’ said the tabby cat and settled herself more comfortably on the bed with her front paws tucked under her, ‘I should love to hear it.’
    And so Peter began from the beginning and told her the whole story of what had happened to him.
    Or rather he began away back before it began, really, and told her about his home in the Mews near the square and the little garden there inside the iron railings where Nanny took him to play every day after school when the weather was fine, and about his father who was a Colonel in the Guards and was away from home most of the time, first during the war when he was in Egypt and Italy, and then in France and Germany, and he hardly saw him at all, and then later in peacetime when he would come home now and then wearing a most beautiful uniform with blue trousers that had a red stripe down the side, except that as soon as he got into the house he went right into his room and changed it for an old brown tweed suit which wasn't nearly as interesting or exciting.
    Sometimes he stayed a little while for a chat or a romp with Peter, but usually he went off with Peter's mother with golf clubs or fishing tackle in the car and they would stay away for days at a time. He would be left with only Cook and Nanny in the flat and it wasn't much fun being alone, for even when he was with friends in the daytime, playing or visiting, it got very lonely at night without his father and mother. When they weren't away on a trip together, they would dress up every evening and go out. And that was when he wished most that he had a cat of his own that would curl up at the foot of his bed, or cuddle, or play games just with him.
    And he told the tabby all about his mother, how young and beautiful she was, so tall and slender, with light-coloured hair as soft as silk, that was the colour of the sunshine when it came in slantwise through the nursery window in the late afternoon, and how blue were her eyes and dark her lashes.
    But particularly he remembered and told Jennie how good she smelled when she came in to say good night to him before going out for the evening, for when Peter's father was away she was unhappy and bored and went off with friends a great deal seeking amusement.
    It was always when he loved her most, Peter explained, when she came in looking and smelling like an angel, with clouds of beautiful materials around her, and her hair so soft and fragrant, when he so much wanted to be held to her, that she left him and went away.
    Jennie nodded. ‘Mmmmm. I know. Perfume. I love things that smell good.’
    She was indignant when Peter came to the part about not being allowed to have a cat because of the mess it might make around a small flat, and said, `Mess, indeed! We never make messes, unless we're provoked, and then we do it on purpose. And can't we just..!’ But strangely enough she took Nanny's part when Peter reached the point in his story about Nanny being afraid of cats and not