`` It is quite a bother to keep them out , ai n't it ? '' said Nelly calmly . `` There 's dozens of cats about the place . What on earth makes them keep so many ? '' `` Mr. Pennington has a mania for cats . He and Mrs. Pennington have a standing disagreement about it . The last girl left here because she could n't stand the cats ; they affected her nerves , she said . I hope you do n't mind them . '' `` Oh , no ; I kind of like cats . I 've been tryin ' to count them . Has anyone ever done that ? '' `` Not that I know of . I tried but I had to give up in despair -- never could tell when I was counting the same cat over again . Look at that black goblin sunning himself on the woodpile . I say , Nelly , you 're not going , are you ? '' `` I must . It 's time to get dinner . Mr. Pennington will be in from the fields soon . '' The next minute he heard her stepping briskly about the kitchen , shooing out intruding cats , and humming a darky air to herself . He went reluctantly back to the shore and rowed across the river in a brown study .
I do n't know whether Winslow was afflicted with chronic thirst or not , or whether the East side water was n't so good as that of the West side ; but I do know that he fairly haunted the XXXXX farmhouse after that .
Mr. Nelly Pennington anyone cat cats goblin left shore woodpile