decided that he would not. He never did. From that time on the Sarah-cat ruled
the roost. Rusty never again interfered with her.
But Joseph rashly sat up and yawned. Rusty, burning to avenge his disgrace,
swooped down upon him. Joseph, pacific by nature, could fight upon occasion
and fight well. The result was a series of drawn battles. Every day Rusty and
Joseph fought at sight. Anne took Rusty’s part and detested Joseph. Stella was in
despair. But Aunt Jamesina only laughed.
“Let them fight it out,” she said tolerantly. “They’ll make friends after a bit.
Joseph needs some exercise—he was getting too fat. And Rusty has to learn he
isn’t the only cat in the world.”
Eventually Joseph and Rusty accepted the situation and from sworn enemies
became sworn friends. They slept on the same cushion with their paws about
each other, and gravely washed each other’s faces.
“We’ve all got used to each other,” said Phil. “And I’ve learned how to wash
dishes and sweep a floor.”
“But you needn’t try to make us believe you can chloroform a cat,” laughed
Anne.
“It was all the fault of the knothole,” protested Phil.
“It was a good thing the knothole was there,” said Aunt Jamesina rather
severely. “Kittens HAVE to be drowned, I admit, or the world would be overrun.
But no decent, grown-up cat should be done to death—unless he sucks eggs.”
“You wouldn’t have thought Rusty very decent if you’d seen him when he
came here,” said Stella. “He positively looked like the Old Nick.”
“I don’t believe Old Nick can be so very, ugly” said Aunt Jamesina
reflectively. “He wouldn’t do so much harm if he was. I always think of him as a
rather handsome gentleman.”