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Little Kitty was an orphan, and she lived in the poor-house, where she ran errands, tended babies, and was everybody’s servant. A droll, happy-hearted child, who did her best to be good, and was never tired of hoping that something pleasant would happen.

She had often heard of Cattle Shows, but had never been to one, though she lived in a town where there was one every year.

As October came, and people began to get ready for the show, Kitty was seized with a strong desire to go, and asked endless questions about it of old Sam, who lived in the house.

“Did you say anybody could go in for nothing if they took something to show?” she asked.

“Yes; and them that has the best fruit, or cows, or butter, or whatever it is, they gets a premium,” said Sam, chopping away.

“What’s a primmynum?” asked Kitty, forgetting to pick up chips, in her interest.

“It’s money; some gets a lot, and some only a dollar, or so.”

“I wish I had something nice to show, but I don’t own anything but puss,” and the little girl stroked the plump, white kitten that was frisking all over her.

“Better send her; she’s pretty enough to fetch a prize anywheres,” said Sam, who was fond of both Kittys.

“Do they have cats there?” asked the child, soberly.

“Ought to, if they don’t, for, if cats aint cattle, I don’t see what they be,” and old Sam laughed, as if he had made a joke.

“I mean to take her and see the show, any way, for that will be splendid, even if she don’t get any money! O, puss, will you go, and behave well, and get a primmynum for me, so I can buy a book of stories?” cried Kitty, upsetting her basket in her sudden skip at the fine plan.

Puss turned a somersault, raced after a chicken, and then rushed up her mistress’ back, and, perching demurely on her shoulder, peeped into her face, as if asking if pranks like these wouldn’t win a prize anywhere.

“You are going to take Mr. Green’s hens for him; can’t I go with you? I won’t be any trouble, and I do so want to see the fun,” added Kitty, after thinking over her plan a few minutes.

Now, Sam meant to take her, but had not told her so yet, and now, being a waggish old fellow, he thought he would let her take her cat, for the joke of it, so he said soberly,–

“Yes, I’ll tuck you in somewheres, and you’d better put puss into the blackbird’s old cage, else she will get scared, and run away. You stand it among the chicken-coops, and folks will admire her, I aint a doubt.”

Innocent little Kitty was in raptures at the prospect, though the people in the house laughed at her. But she firmly believed it was all right, and made her preparations with solemn care.

The old cage was scrubbed till the wires shone, then she trimmed it up with evergreen, and put a bed of scarlet leaves for snowy puss to lie on. Puss was washed, and combed, and decked with a blue bow on the grand day, and, when she had been persuaded to enter her pretty prison, the effect was charming.

A happier little lass was seldom seen than Kitty when, dressed in her clean, blue check frock, and the old hat, with a faded ribbon, she rode away with Sam; and behind, among the hen-coops, was Miss Puss, much excited by the clucking and fluttering of her fellow-travellers.

When the show grounds were reached, Kitty thought the bustle and the noise quite as interesting as the cattle; and when, after putting his poultry in its place, Sam led her up into the great hall where the fruit and flowers were, she began to imagine that the fairy tales were coming true.