On a sunny afternoon, young Sophie wandered through her neighborhood, soaking up the warmth of the day. Suddenly, a soft sound caught her ear—a pitiful little meow coming from a nearby bush. Curious, she approached cautiously and peered into the foliage. To her surprise and delight, she found a tiny kitten, no bigger than her hand, looking up at her with big, sad eyes.
The kitten’s fur was a tangled mess of gray and white, and it looked frightened and alone. Sophie felt a tug at her heart. How could anyone abandon such a loveable creature? Yet, as she reached out her hand, the kitten shrank back, clearly terrified of her presence.
“Oh, you poor thing! You’re really lost, aren’t you?” Sophie whispered gently, trying not to frighten the little one any further. The kitten continued to meow softly, and Sophie instantly wanted to help. But what could she do? Her still-little arms wouldn’t be strong enough to lift the frightened creature from its hidden spot.
As she knelt there, pondering, an idea sparked in her mind. Sophie lived on a farm, and perhaps her father might have an old milk bottle she could use to coax the kitten closer. Quickly, but carefully, she dashed home, fetching the bottle and filling it with warm milk. Then, with the bottle hidden behind her back to prevent the kitten from seeing it, she made her way back to the bush, calling out softly, “Here, kitty. Do you want some milk?”
The tiny little face appeared once again through the leaves, sniffed the air, and then took a hesitant step forward. Slowly, Sophie placed the bottle on the ground and waited quietly. To her delight, the kitten could no longer resist the delicious scent of the warm milk. With a faint “mew,” the kitten approached the bottle and began to drink. What a hungry little creature it was!
Sophie smiled broadly as the kitten quickly finished the bottle. After licking her lips clean, the kitten looked up, its big eyes sparkling with gratitude. Sophie felt a warm rush of happiness; she had made a new friend.
But, the innocence of children is always combined with a little fear, and Sophie remembered that the timid kitten was lost, and that someone must be searching for it. She couldn’t keep it; her mother wouldn’t allow it, even if it slept in a cage in the little shed, where Sophie often kept her pets.
Taking off her hat, Sophie began to ring the bell attached to it. This was her grandmother’s message bell, and the ringing would summon all the family, especially her father. He would instantly know what to do!
In a few minutes, her father appeared, carrying a basket. “Well, what is it, darling?” he said, holding Sophie fondly in his arms. “What can I do for you?”
“Oh, father!” Sophie exclaimed eagerly. “I’ve found a lost kitty in the bush over there.”
“Have you?” he replied. “And what do you want me to do?”
“I want you to come with me and put the kitty in this basket, so we can take it home. Then we can watch in the garden to see if its master comes looking for it. If he does, we shall give him the lost kitty!”
“Ask no questions, young lady,” her father said, laughing. He placed Sophie in the basket, telling her to be quiet, while he ran to the back of the garden to see what was hidden away in the front.
Having brought the kitty in the basket quite close to the spot, he came back without telling Sophie what he had done. All that she knew was that she had a limit of time in which to keep watch.
In less than half an hour, while a light was falling fast outside the drawing-room windows, she saw someone coming slowly up the long gravel path that led to the house. He was a poor little beggar boy whose legs were not at all leopardish, but very much like one of Ovid’s transformations—the nearest approach to legs—to stone, the other half being all kind of black and blue.
Sophie’s father placed the basket gently down. The moment the lad saw it, he seemed to forget his lame legs, and hopped along on his sturdy little feet—even more quickly than other children could have done on ordinary legs.
“Is that your kitty?” Sophie asked.
“Yes!” the boy cried, looking quite delighted to have found it.
And very carefully, the boy lifted the kitten from the basket. Still wearing its forlorn and abandoned air, it went straight to the little fellow’s arms.
“I was coming back for it, ma’am,” he said, looking shyly round at the house, filled with lights, from behind a tall trellis covered with vines and roses that separated his own home from the large garden. “I was coming back on purpose to fetch it, when I got a quarter for what I had asked the gentleman to give me in food.” Then, as he looked at the bag of white and gold coins that Sophie held in her hand, he added, quite gratefully, “I ain’t to have quite as far to go now.”