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“They’re great frauds, those aristocratic cats of sister’s,” Billy explained; “not a bit of use. They won’t fight, and—” A lot more nonsense he rattled off, squeezing and kissing her till she was breathless with laughter. This account of the abruptly ended career of her predecessor was somewhat disturbing to Nell..
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“No, Billy never forgets his cats,” his sister answered for him; “though the chickens might sometimes suffer but for mamma. Take your ill-bred felines out, Billy.” It was apparent to the most casual observer that Mannel’s whole wardrobe consisted of one grey shirt, one pair of faded blue overalls and a pair of braces. To the uninitiated his occasional absences from school for an entire day would have seemed most mysterious. Leading questions as to the cause having been put to other members of the family who were present elicited only a reluctant reply that Mannel was not ill. Further than this they would not go. At last even on the most obtuse one, light would dawn. Mannel was being laundered. “Awfully hard, Billy. Some of them had ‘grief swimming in their eyes.’” “Easy, mates. Kids, belay there, till we launch her!” This to the gaping youngsters always in the way..
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