MR. FRITZ'S KITTENS
Of course Meg's attention was held at once.
"Where did you get any kittens, Charlie?" she asked, half inclined not
to believe him.
Charlie wriggled along the ground till he was a safe distance from
Bobby, then scrambled to his feet.
"A man gave 'em to me," he said. "He wants me to drown 'em!" and away
he skated as fast as he could go.
"Bobby!" Meg almost screamed. "Bobby! don't let him drown the
kittens."
Meg was, as her family said, "crazy" about all animals, and kittens
were her special delight. But then Bobby didn't like the idea of
drowning four helpless little cats in the icy cold water of the pond,
either. He started after Charlie Black, and Meg went after him and
really wished she didn't have a new dress for a moment because she
found the box a nuisance to carry.
Charlie could skate fairly well, but that was when he was watching
where he was going. This time he was watching Bobby instead and as a
result he failed to see a curb and went over it with a jolt that
landed him on his knees. Before he could rise, Bobby and Meg had
caught Up with him.
"Where--are--the--kittens?" gasped Meg.
"In a bag," Charlie answered sullenly.
"You give them to us," said Bobby sternly. "If no one wants them, we
can take them home."
"The man said to drown them--they're his cats and I guess he has a
right to say what he wants done with them," Charlie retorted.
Meg thought about this a minute.
"I'll go see the man," she announced calmly. "Where are the kittens?"
Now whether Charlie really didn't want to drown the little, soft
helpless kittens, or whether he was afraid of Bobby--perhaps his
reasons were mixed as reasons often are--no one knew. But he said that
Meg and Bobby could come home with him and he would give them the
kittens.
The bag was in the woodshed and it was such a dirty old bag--made of
canvas that looked as though it had been carried for years and never
washed--that involuntarily Bobby held it at arms' length from him.
"They won't bite you," said Charlie scornfully, thinking he was afraid
of the kittens--they could be heard mewing inside the bag.
"What is the man's name and where does he live?" Meg asked quietly.
"Ah, I was only fooling--he doesn't care what happens to those old
cats," said Charlie. "It's Mr. Fritz--over on Beech Street. He's cross
enough anyway without being asked a lot of extra questions."
But Meg was determined to see Mr. Fritz and she made Bobby go around
to Beech Street with her.
"It's just as Charlie said--they are his kittens," she argued. "And of
course if he says they have to be drowned they have to be: only we
won't do it."
"Don't you want to look at them?" asked Bobby, swinging the bag
gently.
Meg shook her head.
"Not if somebody has to drown them," she said.
Mr. Fritz lived in a large old-fashioned house, set back from the
street. When the children rang the door bell a deaf woman who did all
the housework for him--he was an old bachelor--came to the door.
"We don't want to buy anything," she declared, frowning at the bag
Bobby was carrying.
"We're not selling anything--these are kittens," Bobby explained, but
without raising his voice. He didn't know she was deaf.
"What did you say?" she asked.
"Kittens!" Bobby repeated, a little more loudly. "Mr. Fritz's
kittens."
"He wears gloves," said the maid crossly. "And my bread is in the oven
and I can't be bothered."
Meg stood on tiptoe and shouted.
"Is Mr. Fritz home?" she cried.
To her dismay a deep voice somewhere back in the house answered her.
"That he is," it said. "Won't you come in?" and there stood Mr. Fritz
himself, looking at her curiously.
Bobby with the bag and Meg with her dress box, stepped inside and the
maid closed the door. That made the hall so dark that poor Bobby,
unable to see where he was going, but moving ahead blindly, walked to
the basement stairs and made the most fearful clatter as he lost his
balance and fell half way. He managed to catch one arm around the
banister rail and check his descent, but the bag of kittens went all
the way.
"Bobby! Are you hurt?" Meg called fearfully.
"Bless me, child, I hope you haven't broken anything," said Mr. Fritz
anxiously.
Bobby felt his way to the bottom of the stairs and found the bag.
"Not unless I smashed the kittens," he said cheerfully, toiling up
again.
Mr. Fritz opened the door of a room at the back of the house and
enough light came out to show Bobby and Meg how to go in. Once inside
they found it was evidently Mr. Fritz's sitting room. It was rather
untidy, but comfortable and warm, with books and papers spread about.
"Now what can I do for you?" said Mr. Fritz, looking at his visitors
very kindly and trying not to show that he was surprised to see them.
"I'm Bobby Blossom," Bobby introduced himself, "and this is my sister
Meg. We came to ask you if you would care if your kittens weren't
drowned."
"Eh? My kittens--not drowned?" repeated Mr. Fritz. "But they are--I
gave that Charlie--what's his name--Black, I gave Charlie Black fifty
cents to drown them for me this afternoon."
Meg looked ready to cry. Any one that _paid_ to have kittens drowned,
must, of course, get what he paid for.
"He didn't say you paid him," Bobby said slowly. "Meg and I thought
perhaps you wouldn't care and we could keep them."
"Are those the kittens in that bag?" asked Mr. Fritz. "Do you mean
to tell me that worthless boy hasn't done anything with them? And he
sends them back to me? Wait till I catch him!"
"Oh, he didn't send them!" Meg cried in quick alarm. "He told us he
had them and Bobby and I wouldn't let him drown them. Then he said
they were your kittens and you wanted them drowned. And of course you
can do anything you want to with your kittens, but I thought you
wouldn't mind if we kept them."
Mr. Fritz nodded his head several times.
"I see," he said at each nod. "I see--you want to save the kittens and
let them grow up and howl on the back fences. Well, I think there are
enough cats in this world already. But as long as I don't have to take
care of the kittens, it makes no difference to me what becomes of
them. You may have them, if you wish."
Meg thanked him and was ready to go, but Bobby had something else on
his mind.
"Do you want that fifty cents back from Charlie Black?" he asked.
"You could get it for me, I suppose," Mr. Fritz said with a laugh.
"No, Bobby, let him keep his fifty cents. After all, he earned it, for
the stipulation was that he was to dispose of the kittens. I didn't
say they _must_ be drowned."
Mr. Fritz shook hands with Bobby and Meg and asked them to come and
see him again. He went to the door with them, which was fortunate for
the hall was so dark Meg was afraid Bobby would fall downstairs a
second time, and watched them go down the gravel path.
"We'll have to hurry," said Bobby. "Mother will wonder where we are."
The twins saw them coming and their sharp eyes spied the bag the first
thing.
"What have you got, Bobby?" shrieked Dot. "Bobby, what's in the bag?"
"You needn't tell the neighborhood," Bobby said a little crossly, for
he was tired, "but kittens are in it."
"Kittens!" Twaddles shouted, leaping ahead to spread the news.
"Mother!" he called, racing into the house. "Oh, Mother, come and see
the kittens Bobby has in a bag!"
Mother Blossom and Aunt Polly and Norah came into the hall and Bobby
sat down on the rug, with Meg and the twins almost on top of him.
"They're four," he explained as he began to untie the string that was
knotted around the bag. "Charlie Black was going to drown them for Mr.
Fritz, but he said Meg could have them. Maybe they are pretty."
He turned down the bag and a black kitten walked out. Then a gray and
white one. Then a yellow one and next a striped "tiger" kitten.
Norah started to laugh.
"Four, is it?" she giggled. "Then I must be seeing double, Bobby, for
there's six already and--yes, here's another--that makes seven!"
Well, there they were--seven kittens, none especially fat and none
especially pretty, all "just kittens," as Twaddles named them.
But Meg thought they were lovely and she was anxious to take them out
to the garage and give them some warm milk. The garage was always
chosen as a good place to feed stray animals, for the cement floor
could be more easily washed than the linoleum that was the pride of
Norah's heart in the kitchen.
"Meg, darling, we simply cannot keep all those kittens," Mother
Blossom declared regretfully. "Seven kittens are a great many and I
don't believe Annabel Lee will welcome so much company."
"But, Mother, we can't drown them!" said Meg, her eyes round with
horror. "We have to take care of them."
"I think you children will have to find homes for them," Mother
Blossom announced. "Think over all the folk you know and try to find
homes for these homeless little cats. That will be something for you
to do, too, Dot and Twaddles."
"I'm going to think now," said Twaddles, sitting down on the lowest
step of the stairs.