Truly that morning the kittens had trembled in the shadow of death!

And Grey Puss always regarded the he-cat as the first betrayer, the cause of all her subsequent sorrows and misfortunes.

Only a week later a farm hand saw her as she sneaked into the willow. Putting his ear against the trunk, he heard the kittens stirring, and so, hanging his hat and coat on a branch, he ran home to the farm to fetch the dog. . . .

Box was not to be found; and not till the midday meal did he get hold of him—and when at last the fellow returned to stamp out the "vermin," the trunk was deserted and empty.

He explored the neighbouring fields. The dog found the scent at once and gave tongue —then deep among the corn was fought a terrific battle. The dog's barks turned to howls, and soon afterwards Box returned as if shot from a cannon, with his tail-stump curled between his legs.