Jazbury came scampering gaily up the stairs to where his mother and Aunt Tabby were sitting on the window-sill washing their faces and cleaning their fur. Jazbury was a small black kitten with white markings on his face and breast, and soft little white paws. Soft as those little paws were there were sharp, needle claws hidden in their velvet, and Jazbury knew how to use them when necessary, too. Mother Bunch's tail hung down from the window-seat, waving softly. It looked almost like a mouse, so soft and grey. Jazbury made a jump, and caught it with his claws. His mother growled and drew her tail up and curled it around her. Jazbury jumped up after it, and tried to tease his mother into playing with him. "Jazbury, you haven't washed yourself this morning," said his aunt severely. "Look at your paws. You've been in the coal-bin again, you naughty kitten." "Well, I thought I heard a mouse there," mewed Jazbury. "A mouse What would a mouse be doing in the coal-bin? No, you just wanted an excuse for clambering about among the coal and making it rattle. And now look how dirty you are."