She ate her rolls and preserves with a healthy appetite , sharpened by her long walk from Newbridge , and told amusing little stories of her day 's work that made the two older women shake with laughter , and exchange shy glances of pride over her cleverness . When tea was over she poured the remaining contents of the cream jug into a saucer . `` I must feed my pussy , '' she said as she left the room . `` That girl beats me , '' said Mrs. Eben with a sigh of perplexity . `` You know that black cat we 've had for two years ? Eben and I have always made a lot of him , but Sara seemed to have a dislike to him . Never a peaceful nap under the stove could he have when Sara was home -- out he must go . Well , a little spell ago he got his leg broke accidentally and we thought he 'd have to be killed . But Sara would n't hear of it . She got splints and set his leg just as knacky , and bandaged it up , and she has tended him like a sick baby ever since . He 's just about well now , and he lives in clover , that cat does . It 's just her way . There 's them sick chickens she 's been doctoring for a week , giving them pills and things ! `` And she thinks more of that wretched-looking calf that got poisoned with paris green than of all the other stock on the place . '' As the summer wore away , Mrs. Eben tried to reconcile herself to the destruction of her air castles . But she scolded Sara considerably . `` Sara , why do n't you like Lige ? I 'm sure he is a model young man . '' `` I do n't like model young men , '' answered Sara impatiently . `` And I really think I hate Lige Baxter .
He has always been held up to me XXXXX such a paragon .
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