"It come to me all of a sudden," said the cook, in a thrilling whisper.
"I'd just bought the bread and left the shop, when I see a big black
cat, the very image of ours, sitting on a doorstep. I just stooped down
to stroke its 'ed, when it come to me."
"They will sometimes," said one of the seamen.
"I don't mean that," said the cook, with the contempt of genius. "I mean
the idea did. Ses I to myself, 'You might be old Satan's brother by the
look of you; an' if the cap'n wants to kill a cat, let it be you,' I
ses. And with that, before it could say Jack Robinson, I picked it up by
the scruff o' the neck and shoved it in the bag."
"What, all in along of our bread?" said the previous interrupter, in a
pained voice.
"Some of yer are 'ard ter please," said the cook, deeply offended.
"Don't mind him, cook," said the admiring Sam. "You're a masterpiece,
that's what you are."
"Of course, if any of you've got a better plan"--said the cook
generously.
"Don't talk rubbish, cook," said Sam; "fetch the two cats out and put
'em together."
"Don't mix 'em," said the cook warningly; "for you'll never know which
is which agin if you do."
He cautiously opened the top of the sack and produced his captive, and
Satan, having been relieved from his prison, the two animals were
carefully compared.
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