A hush had fallen upon the neighborhood; nobody was to be seen, and
the only sound not made by the birds and insects was the far-away
click and whirr of a lawn-mower.
She had had a long walk and was tired; a carriage-block under the
maple trees offered a pleasant resting place, so, closing her
umbrella, she sat down. She had a pair of frank gray eyes and a smile
that made you feel at once that she was a cheery little person,
accustomed to make the best of things.
"How still it is!" she said to herself. "I wonder if some wicked fairy
has put everybody to sleep? I wish I might go into their houses and
break the spell. And here comes an enchanted prince," she continued,
laughing at the fancy, as a large black cat came across the street in
a leisurely, sleepy way.
The gray eyes seemed to inspire his confidence, for the victim of
enchantment stopped to rub against her dress.
"Pretty old kitty, you are somebody's pet," she said, softly touching
the glossy head.
He could have told her that some one in the neighborhood was awake. In
fact, two individuals had invaded the shady spot where he was taking
his nap, and persisted in tickling his ears with grass till he was
obliged to leave. He did not mention this, however, only arched his
back and purred a little, and then, as if he suddenly remembered
important business, trotted off through the bars of the gate and up
the walk leading to a large house.
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