Ike found him under the horses' hoofs one night, going up to market.

Little fellow had crawled out into the road.

Left in the ditch by some one or another.

Ike put him in a half-sieve basket with some hay, and fixed him in with some sticks same as we cover fruit, and he curled up and went to sleep till Ike brought him in to me in the yard." "But where were his father and mother ?" I cried.
"Who knows!" said Old Brownsmith, poking at a bit of brown crust in his basin of milk.

"Ike brought him to me grinning, and he said, `Here's another cat for you, master.' "I was very angry," said the old gentleman after a pause; "but just then the little fellow--he was about a year old--put his head up through the wooden bars and looked at me, and I told one of the women to give him something to eat.