Jazbury's best friend was a little white kitten named Fluffy. Fluffy lived in the house next door to Jazbury's.

At the other side of Jazbury's house was an open lot. The gentlemen cats of the neighbourhood had a club that met in this lot every night. It was a singing club, but sometimes the cats quarrelled among themselves, and were very noisy. Mother Bunch and Aunt Tabby said they wished the cats would meet some other place; but Jazbury liked to hear them. He wished he were old enough to belong to the club, and sing and fight, and stay out all night the way they did. But he was still only a soft, playful little kitten, who had not even caught his first mouse as yet.

Once Jazbury had climbed up on the fence, and jumped over into the lot. There he had prowled about among the weeds, and chased grasshoppers, and shiny black crickets. It was great fun.

Another kitten was hunting there, too, but he was hunting birds. He laughed at Jazbury for catching grasshoppers. He told Jazbury his name was Yowler, and that he belonged to the baker who lived further down the street. Yowler had a broad, ugly face and a stubby tail, and his fur looked dirty and uncared for. He was a yellow cat.

Jazbury liked him because he was strong and big and bold, but when Jazbury told his mother about Yowler she said she did not want Jazbury to play with him. She said she knew all about him; that he was a very coarse, noisy cat, and she told Jazbury he must not go over in the lot again.

Jazbury was allowed to go over into Fluffy's yard whenever he wanted to. Mother Bunch and Aunt Tabby both liked Fluffy. They thought he was a very nice, well-behaved little kitten.

One day when Jazbury climbed up on the fence that separated his yard from Fluffy's he saw his little friend sitting down on the kitchen steps, watching something in the grass below him. He was so intent on what he saw that he did not notice Jazbury.

"Hello, Fluffy!" mewed Jazbury.

Fluffy jumped. Then he looked around.

"Hello!"

"What you got there?" asked Jazbury curiously.

"A toad."

"Going to catch it?"

"No, I don't like them. They haven't any fur, and I don't like the feel of them."

"Well, come on up here. I want to show you something."

Fluffy climbed up a step-ladder that was leaning against the fence.

"What are you going to show me?"

"Do you see this fence? Well, I walked all the way round on the top of it yesterday, and never fell off once."

Fluffy looked at the fence in silence for a moment or so. Then he said, "That's not so much to do."

"I guess it is, too. You couldn't do it."

"Yes, I could, if I wanted to."

"Well, let's see you."

"I don't want to."

"You're afraid."

"No, I'm not, either."

"Yes, you are, too."

"I can; I can catch mice. And I can walk on the fence, too. I'll show you."

"Walk to the post and back and I'll give you a chicken bone I found down back of the rain-barrel."

"All right; it's a promise. Now watch me."

Fluffy set out along the top of the fence, walking very slowly and carefully, one paw before the other.

"Hurry up! hurry up! No fair walking so slowly," said Jazbury.

"Yes, it is fair, too. And don't you mew at me."

Fluffy reached the post safely, and then tried to turn. But that was not such an easy matter. He lost his balance. His tail waved wildly. His claws clutched the fence. He teetered back and forth, and then, with a loud mew, he half jumped, half fell, down on the flower bed below.

Jazbury laughed and laughed, the way kittens do. You wouldn't have known he was laughing. You couldn't have heard it, but a cat or kitten could. It hurt Fluffy's feelings to be laughed at.

"I don't care. I don't believe you could do it, either," he mewed.

"Now watch me!" said Jazbury.

He ran gaily out along the fence top with never a pause or mis-step. He ran all the way down one side without stopping, and then started across the back fence toward the other side.

Now back of Jazbury's yard was another yard, and a very rough boy lived there. The boy was out in the yard now. He was squirting a hose, and another boy with a very dirty face was there with him.

"Hi!" cried the dirty-faced boy. "Look at that kitten walking along the fence."

"Yeh!" answered the other. "I'm going to squirt the hose on him!"

"Go ahead!" cried the other. "See what he'll do."

Jazbury was very much frightened. He began to run. He might have jumped down off the fence, but he never thought of that. He ran as fast as he could, but before he could reach the other side a torrent of cold water struck him, almost sweeping him off the fence. The boy was squirting the hose on him as he had said.

Jazbury tried to hold fast to the fence; he tried to yowl, but the rush of water filled his mouth--his eyes--his ears. Blinded and drenched, he was finally carried off the fence by it, and landed in the yard below--his own yard, luckily. There the fence protected him.

Fluffy looked on, horrified by what he saw.

Jazbury struggled to his feet, and ran toward the house, trailing water after him.

"Mew, miew!" he cried. "Oh, Momma! Momma! Come quick! Miew! Miew! Miew!"

Mother Bunch heard him crying, and burst open the screen door of the kitchen and came running to meet him.

"What is it? What is it?" she cried. "What's the matter, Jazbury?"

"Oh, I'm so wet. I'm so w-w-wet!" he shivered.

"Oh, my child, come over here!" Mother Bunch hurried him over to a warm, sunny corner beside the kitchen steps, and began to dry him with her pink, rough tongue.

"But how did it happen?" she asked again. "Did you fall into a bucket?"

"I didn't fall into anything except the yard. It was some boys and they put water on me," and Jazbury told his mother the whole story.

Aunt Tabby sat by and listened gravely. "Well, Jazbury, it's really no more than I expected," said she. "It's just as I told you. If you won't wash yourself you'll get washed by some one else. And I must say you're looking cleaner than you've looked for many a day."

His mother said nothing. She thought Jazbury had been punished enough by the drenching without being lectured as well.