Read "Pussy Black-Face" by Marshall Saunders online for free on Textopian. Full text with search, annotations, highlights, and AI-powered reading aids.
Last night I thought I was in a queer place, but upon my word, to-night I am in a queerer; and I don't believe that in Boston there is a more puzzled or confused little cat than I am. Here I lie, curled up in a heap of soft, white fur and pink silk-I think it is an old opera cloak-that is carefully arranged in a big armchair near the bed where sleeps a pale, pretty little girl. I was the last thing that her eyes rested on before she went to sleep, and she wished me to be the first object before her when she awoke.
There is a dull fire burning in the grate with a wire guard before it. One of the windows is open, and soon the fire will go out and the room will be quite cold, but I won't mind it, wrapped as I am in this soft cloak.