It was quite impossible to describe the confused medley of bangs and rattles and muffled shrieks and yowls that proceeded from the kitchen , accompanied by occasional crashes . Susan and Cousin Sophia stared at each other in dismay . `` What upon airth has bruk loose in there ? '' gasped Cousin Sophia . `` It must be that Hyde-cat gone clean mad at last , '' muttered Susan . `` I have always expected it . '' Rilla came flying out of the side door of the living-room . `` What has happened ? '' she demanded . `` It is beyond me to say , but that possessed beast of yours is evidently at the bottom of it , '' said Susan . `` Do not go near him , at least . I will open the door and peep in . There goes some more of the crockery . I have always said that the devil was in him and that I will tie to . '' `` It is my opinion that the cat has hydrophobia , '' said Cousin Sophia solemnly . `` I once heard of a cat that went mad and bit three people -- and they all died a most terrible death , and turned black as ink . '' Undismayed by this , Susan opened the door and looked in . The floor was littered with fragments of broken dishes , for it seemed that the fatal tragedy had taken place on the long dresser where Susan 's array of cooking bowls had been marshalled in shining state . Around the kitchen tore a frantic cat , with his head wedged tightly in an old salmon can . Blindly he careered about with shrieks and profanity commingled , now banging the can madly against anything he encountered , now trying vainly to wrench it off with his paws .
The sight was so funny that Rilla doubled up XXXXX laughter .
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