It reminded Owen of a tadpole.
'Do you like cats ?' he asked, addressing the children.
'Yes,' said the boy.

'Give it to us, will you, mister ?' 'Oh, do leave it 'ere, mister,' exclaimed the little girl.

'I'll look after it.' 'So will I,' said the boy.
'But haven't you one of your own ?' asked Owen.
'Yes; we've got a big one.' 'Well, if you have one already and I give you this, then you'd have two cats, and I'd have none.

That wouldn't be fair, would it ?' 'Well, you can 'ave a lend of our cat for a little while if you give us this kitten,' said the boy, after a moment's thought.
'Why would you rather have the kitten ?' 'Because it would play: our cat don't want to play, it's too old.' 'Perhaps you're too rough with it,' returned Owen.
'No, it ain't that; it's just because it's old.' 'You know cats is just the same as people,' explained the little girl, wisely.

'When they're grown up I suppose they've got their troubles to think about.' Owen wondered how long it would be before her troubles commenced.