I said . `` I 'm crying because -- because my Aunt Jane is dead , '' said Peter defiantly . `` But your Aunt Jane died two years ago , '' I said skeptically . `` Well , ai n't that all the more reason for crying ? '' retorted Peter . `` I 've had to do without her for two years , and that 's worse than if it had just been a few days . '' `` I believe you were crying because Pat is so sick , '' I said firmly . `` As if I 'd cry about a cat ! '' scoffed Peter . And he marched off whistling . Of course we had tried the lard and powder treatment again , smearing Pat 's paws and sides liberally . But to our dismay , Pat made no effort to lick it off . `` I tell you he 's a mighty sick cat , '' said Peter darkly . `` When a cat do n't care what he looks like he 's pretty far gone . '' `` If we only knew what was the matter with him we might do something , '' sobbed the Story Girl , stroking her poor pet 's unresponsive head . `` I could tell you what 's the matter with him , but you 'd only laugh at me , '' said Peter . We all looked at him . `` Peter Craig , what do you mean ? '' asked Felicity . '' ` Zackly what I say . ''
`` Then , if you know what is the matter XXXXX Paddy , tell us , '' commanded the Story Girl , standing up .
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