Suddenly I find myself free--and still alive, miraculously saved by the power of her will. How beautiful life seems to me then! How fondly I lick the hand hanging at her side, the hem of her dress!
All good and all evil come to me from Her. She is my worst torment and my one sure refuge. When I run to her, my heart sick with fear, how soft her arms are and how sweet her hair, falling in my face! I'm her "black-baby," her "Toby-Dog," her "little bit o' love." She sits on the ground to reassure me, making herself little like me--lies down altogether and I go wild with delight at the sight of her face under mine, thrown back in her fragrant hair. My feelings overflow, I can't resist such a chance for a jolly good game. I rummage and fumble about, excitedly poking my nose everywhere, till I find the crispy tip of a pink ear--Her ear. I nibble it just enough to tickle her--to make her cry out: "Stop, Toby! That's awful! Help! Help! This dog's devouring me!"
H'm! Simple, homely, wholesome joys! ... And then, off you go to make friends with the cook.
TOBY-DOG And you,--with the cat at the farm.
Enough I pray, that concerns no one but myself ... and the little cat.
A pretty conquest! It should make you blush--a seven-months-old kitten!
For me she has all the charm of forbidden fruit and no one dare steal her from me. She is slim as a bean-pole....
... and long; poised on long legs she walks with the uncertain step common to all young things. She hunts field-mice, shrew-mice--even partridge, and this hard work in the fields has toughened her young muscles and given a rather gloomy expression to her kitten-face.
No, not ugly, but odd-looking. Her muzzle with its very pink nostrils strongly resembles that of a goat, her large ears remind one of a peasant's coif, her eyes the color of old gold are set slant-wise, and their naturally keen expression is varied by an occasional piquant squint.
With what a will does she fly me confounding modesty with fear! I pass slowly by (one would think me quite uninterested), draped in my splendid coat. She's struck by its stripes. Oh, she'll come back, a little love-sick kitten, and putting aside all constraint she'll throw herself at my feet--like a supple white scarf--