THE wind blew cold and dry. The storm of the day before had brought it on. Uncle Paul took this pretext to have the kitchen stove lighted in spite of Mother Ambroisine’s remarks, who cried out at the unseasonableness of making a fire.

“Light up the stove in summer!” said she; “did one ever see the like? No one but our master would have such a notion. We shall be roasted.”

Uncle Paul let her talk; he had his own idea. They sat down at the table. After eating its supper the big cat, never too warm, settled itself on a chair by the side of the stove, and soon, with its back turned to the warm sheet-iron, began to purr with happiness. All was going as desired; Uncle Paul’s projects were taking an excellent turn. There was some complaint of the heat, but he took no notice.

“Ah! do you think it is for you the stove is lighted?” said he to the children. “Undeceive yourselves, my little friends: it is for the cat, the cat alone. It is so chilly, poor thing; see how happy it is on its chair.”

Emile was on the point of laughing at his uncle’s kindly attentions to the tom-cat, but Claire, who suspected serious designs, nudged him with her elbow. Claire’s suspicions were well founded. When they had finished supper they resumed the subject of thunder. Uncle Paul began:

“This morning I promised to show you, with the cat’s help, some very curious things. The time has come for keeping my word, provided Puss is agreeable.”

He took the cat, whose hair was burning hot, and put it on his knees. The children drew near.

“Jules, put out the ............