THE CAT AND THE KNOCKER. 39

reason in such a case. I am not quite certain of this Pussy’s
name, but it may have been Deborah. The house where
Deborah was born and bred is in the country, and there is a
door with a small porch opening on a flower-garden. Very
often when this door was shut, Deborah, or little Deb, as she
may have been called, was left outside ; and on such occasions
she used to mew as loudly as she could to obtain admittance.
Sometimes she was not heard; but instead of running away,
and trying to find some other home, she used—wise little
creature that she was !—calmly to seat herself in a corner of
the window-sill, and wait till some person came to the house,
who, on knocking at the door, was at once admitted. Many
a day, no doubt, little Deb sat there on the window-sill and
watched this, gazing at the knocker, and wondering what it
had to do with getting the door open.

A month passed away, and little Deb grew from a kitten
into a full-sized cat. Many a weary hour was passed in her
corner. At length Deb came to see that if she could manage
to make the knocker sound a rap-a-tap-tap on the door, the
noise would call the servant, and she would gain entrance as.
well as the guests who came to the house.

One day Deb had been shut out, when Mary, the maid-
servant, who was sitting stitching away, heard a rap-a-tap at
the front door, making known the arrival, as she thought, of
a visitor. Putting down her work, she hurried to the door
and lifted the latch; but no one was there except Deb, who
at that moment leaped off the window-sill and entered the
house. Mary looked along the road, up and down on either
side, thinking that some person must have knocked and gone
away; but no one was in sight.