One night Arabella and Araminta's mamma was sewing, and their papa was
reading his newspaper. And there was a fire in the grate--a warm, bright
fire in the grate.
And Arabella sat on the rug before the fire, and Araminta sat on the rug
before the fire.
And Arabella was playing with her little white kitty, and Araminta was
playing with her little black kitty.
And Arabella's little white kitty's name was Annabel, and Araminta's
little black kitty's name was Lillabel.
Arabella had a little red ball fastened to a long string, and Araminta
had a little blue ball fastened to a long string. Arabella would roll
her ball, and her little white kitty would run and jump for it. And
Araminta would roll her ball, and her little black kitty would run and
jump for it.
The kittens were so cunning and funny, and they were having such a
splendid time.
Sometimes when Arabella's kitty would run very fast, or jump very high,
Arabella would laugh until she tumbled right over on the floor.
And sometimes when Araminta's kitty would run very fast, or jump very
high, Araminta would laugh until she would tumble right over on the
floor.
Oh, they were having a splendid time.
But all at once their mamma looked up from her sewing, and said,
"Good-night, Arabella. Good-night, Araminta. The clock is on the stroke
of eight."
And their papa looked up from his paper, and said, "Yes, good-night,
Arabella. Good-night, Araminta. The clock is on the stroke of eight."