When you are at home I do not mind it, for although I cannot talk to you, I understand every word that you say to me, and we have such good plays together with the red ball. That is put away now in the bottom drawer of the little workstand in the sitting-room. When your mother put the red ball in, she turned round to me, and said, Poor female cat, no more good plays for you till Helen comes home! and I thought I should certainly cry.

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