Malta got great praise for this, and I never knew of her catching a bird
afterward. She was well fed in the house, and had no need to hurt such
harmless creatures.
She was very fond of her home, and never went far away, as Jim and I
did. Once, when Willie was going to spend a few weeks with a little
friend who lived fifty miles from Fairport, he took it into his head
that Malta should go with him. His mother told him that cats did not
like to go away from home; but he said he would be good to her, and
begged so hard to take her, that at last his mother consented.
He had been a few days in this place, when he wrote home to say that
Malta had run away. She had seemed very unhappy, and though he had kept
her with him all the time, she had acted as if she wanted to get away.
When the letter was read to Mr. Morris, he said, "Malta is on her way
home. Cats have a wonderful cleverness in finding their way to their own
dwelling. She will be very tired. Let us go out and meet her."
Willie had gone to this place in a coach. Mr. Morris got a buggy and
took Miss Laura and me with him, and we started out. We went slowly
along the road.
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