Such a fat , cosey old mamma you never saw , and her first appearance was so funny , I never think of her without laughing . In our back kitchen was an old sideboard , with two little doors in the lower part . Some bits of carpet were kept there , but we never expected to let that small mansion till , opening the door one day , I found Mrs. Bunch and her young family comfortably settled . I had never seen this mild black cat before , and I fancy no one had ever seen her three roly-poly , jet-black kits . Such a confiding puss I never met , for when I started back , surprised , Mrs. Bunch merely looked at me with an insinuating purr , and began to pick at my carpet , as if to say , -- `` The house suited me ; I 'll take it , and pay rent by allowing you to admire and pet my lovely babies . '' I never thought of turning her out , and there she remained for some months , with her children growing up around her , all as fat and funny , black and amiable , as herself . Three jollier kits were never born , and a more devoted mother never lived . I put her name on the door of her house , and they lived on most comfortably together , even after they grew too big for their accommodations , and tails and legs hung out after the family had retired . I really did hope they would escape the doom that seemed to pursue my cats , but they did not , for all came to grief in different ways . Cuddle Bunch had a fit , and fell out of the window , killing herself instantly . Othello , her brother , was shot by a bad boy , who fired pistols at all the cats in the neighborhood , as good practice for future gunning expeditions . Little Purr was caught in a trap , set for a woodchuck , and so hurt she had to be gently chloroformed out of life . Mother Bunch still remained , and often used to go and sit sadly under the tree where her infants were buried , -- an afflicted , yet resigned parent . Her health declined , but we never had the heart to send her away , and it would n't have done any good if we had tried . We did it once , and it was a dead failure . At one time the four cats were so wearing that my honored father , who did not appreciate the dears , resolved to clear the house of the whole family ; so he packed them in a basket , and carried them `` over the hills and far away , '' like the `` Babes in the Wood . '' Coming to a lonely spot , he let them out , and returned home , much relieved in mind . Judge of his amazement when the first thing he saw was Mrs. Bunch and her children , sitting on the steps resting after their run home . We all laughed at the old gentleman so that he left them in peace , and even when the mamma alone remained , feeble and useless , her bereavement made her sacred . When we shut up the house , and went to the city for the winter , we gave Mother Bunch to the care of a kind neighbor , who promised to guard her faithfully .
Returning in the spring , one of my XXXXX questions was , -- `` How is old Pussy ? ''
Bunch Judge Mother day dears escape first left months woodchuck