THE KITTEN'S BATH.
Violet had picked a whole apron full of leaves, reaching up in the trees
for the largest and handsomest, and then, kneeling where they grew close
to the ground, had collected the lovely, delicate ones that were so
small you would not notice unless you were looking for them--broad,
shining oak leaves, long, graceful chestnut leaves, and some from the
fluttering poplar, and some from the hemlocks and pines, tall ferns, and
maiden's-hair, and grass, clover, sorrel, ground pine, and hundreds
more.
Violet had been counting how many kinds there were; and as I have
forgotten, the first time you go into the woods you must try yourself,
and lay them side by side, as she did, to see which is prettiest.
But away flew all the leaves, as, directly she heard Love's voice, the
little girl sprang to her feet, waking puss out of her nap so suddenly
that she spit, and put up her back, and her hair stood all on end with
fright.
Then you might have heard Violet's laughter ringing merrily enough
through the silent wood.
Such an unusual noise startled a whole flock of crows, where, hid in a
tall pine tree, they had, like pussy, been taking a nap, and scolded
well because they were awakened.
Violet wondered if it would help the matter to make such a noise about
it with their hoarse voices, which sounded as if they were made on
purpose to scold--so grating and shrill.
She went to the brook for her flowers, while the kitten followed, gaping
such great gapes that Violet told her she'd better take care, or she
wouldn't be able to close her mouth again. And looking back among the
trees, as she climbed the stone wall and was going out into the sunshine
again, Violet wondered if God _could_ have made that beautiful place for
no one but her; no one else entered it, she knew.
"I guess God thinks it's no matter how small I am, so long as I'm large
enough to love it all," she thought; and I don't believe Violet was
wrong.
As they went home, a great cricket flew from under the kitten's feet and
frightened her again, for she was hardly awake. Away she sprang to catch
it, and away sprang the cricket, while Violet had to run fast to keep up
with them, laughing to see how puzzled puss would be when the cricket
hid under the long grass; and while she was pawing, and purring, and
looking up to Violet as if she'd ask, "Where is he?" out he'd spring
again, directly past her nose, and in among the grass would hide, and
peep at her, while she looked every where but in the right place.
At last, in her eagerness, the kitten jumped rather too far, and went
into the brook; and in her fright I don't know what would have happened
next if Violet had not seized her just as, mewing and trembling, the
water was washing her down stream.
She lapped Violet's face and purred as the little girl tried to dry her
fur and warm her again in her bosom; but she was a wilful puss, and
preferred creeping along in the sunshine, shaking each of her four paws
at every step in the drollest fashion. But she didn't chase any more
crickets _that_ day.
This affair of the kitten's, and waiting to look for her berries, which
Violet had hid among the bushes so safely she could not find them
herself at first, delayed her so long that she almost flew the rest of
the way; for when the old people went to market with their goods, they
always came home tired and hungry, and were very glad of a cup of warm
tea.
So she did not stop flying until a fire was made and the table set; and
just then she heard voices at the door.