My friend has now a whole colony of sparrows, and his flies and spiders are almost obliterated.

When I came in he ran to me and said he wanted to ask me a great favour, a very, very great favour.

And as he spoke, he fawned on me like a dog.
I asked him what it was, and he said, with a sort of rapture in his voice and bearing, "A kitten, a nice, little, sleek playful kitten, that I can play with, and teach, and feed, and feed, and feed!" I was not unprepared for this request, for I had noticed how his pets went on increasing in size and vivacity, but I did not care that his pretty family of tame sparrows should be wiped out in the same manner as the flies and spiders.

So I said I would see about it, and asked him if he would not rather have a cat than a kitten.
His eagerness betrayed him as he answered, "Oh, yes, I would like a cat! I only asked for a kitten lest you should refuse me a cat.

No one would refuse me a kitten, would they ?" I shook my head, and said that at present I feared it would not be possible, but that I would see about it.