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in my mind: Madam Land had cut off Carolus’
head!
Oh, what a shame, what a shame!—what a
shame for her to do that! How I cried that
day! It did no good for them to sav at home
that perhaps Carolus would come back, and
that even if he didn’t, it wasn’t at all sure that
Madam Land had made an end of him; he
might easily have just gone astray himself.
No, I didn’t believe that for a moment. It
was Madam Land who had murdered him, and
I thought it was mighty queer of Father that
he wouldn’t put her on bread and water for
twenty days, for she deserved it.
The only thing that consoled me was that I
myself never had to see Carolus served up in
white sauce in a covered dish on the dinner
table. Never—never in the world—would I
have tasted a bit of Carolus!
Well, something always does happen to
pets—think of Uncle Ferdinand’s monkey.
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