After that we were friends, and seeing her on the step this evening gave me courage, until I reflected that the size of her great body would frighten the poor Common cat to death, if she should see her. So I would not enter into conversation, but stepped softly down the steps, carrying the mutton between my teeth.
Mona stretched out her thick neck, and sniffed at me. “You foolish cat, are you going through the street with that bait in your mouth? Something will catch you.”
“Nothing will,” I said in a voice muffled by the mutton, and I went on toward the Common.
Mona followed me slowly. What was I to do? I turned, and instead of going right on the Common, went deliberately down Beacon Street toward Charles Street.
We must have looked rather ridiculous. I can't help laughing when I think of it. I—a small-sized cat—walking solemnly along the middle of the street, holding the piece of meat, and the huge dog stepping carefully after me.
When we got to Charles Street, I turned to the right. Then I suddenly sprang back, flew to the Common, and ran up the hill again.
I am a pretty swift runner, but that dreadful dog kept me in sight, and at last I stopped. I did not dare to go near the cat with this big creature in tow.
Opposite the house we both sat down on the gravel walk of the Common, and stared at each other. Mona was panting heavily. Her fur is so long and thick that she gets hot in a flash.
“You're up to some mischief,” she said crossly. “Cats are sly anyway.”
I laid the piece of mutton between my paws. “Cats are not sly. They are hunted and chased, and have to act sly—but in reality they are as open and honest as dogs.”
“Very well,” she said sarcastically, “it's a matter of opinion.”
“Are you going to tag me all night?” I inquired teasingly.
“Tig-tag, rig-a-jag, Get your news and put in a bag. Watch your neighbor, spin a tale, You'll earn your name without any fail.”
Mona didn't care for this, but merely went on licking her paws.
She looked very handsome, as she lay on the path in the electric light. She has a lovely yellow and white body, and big brown eyes. I gazed all round the Common, at the walks, and the people, and the trees, and the glitter of lights in the fine buildings on Tremont Street. It was a beautiful spring evening, and the air was like balm, but my heart was full of trouble. How was I to get rid of the big dog?