May 31
Sitting at tea in the farm house today E⸺ cried suddenly, pointing to a sandy cat in the garden:
“There—he’s the father of the little kittens in the barn and I’ll tell you how we know. P⸺ noticed the kittens had big feet and later on saw that old Tom stalking across the garden with big feet of exactly the same kind.”
“So you impute the paternity of the kittens to the gentleman under the laurel bushes?”
I looked at the kittens tonight and found they had extra toes. “Mr. Sixtoes,” as W⸺ calls him also possesses six toes, so the circumstantial evidence looks black against him.