| Title | The Ragged Trousered Philanthropists |
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| Page | 208 |
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| Chapter | -- |
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| Text |
movement under the impression that it was part of some game: `What name do you think we ought to call it, Dad?' `You may give him any name you like,' replied Owen, absently. `I know a dog that lives down the road,' said the boy, `his name is Major. How would that do? Or we might call him Sergeant.' The kitten, observing that he was the subject of their conversation, purred loudly and winked as if to intimate that he did not care what rank was conferred upon him so long as the commisariat department was properly attended to. `I don't know, though,' continued Frankie, thoughtfully. `They're all right names for dogs, but I think they're too big for a kitten, don't you, Dad?' `Yes, p'raps they are,' said Owen. |
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