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A rustling sounded from the grass near her feet. Lizbeth
glanced down. ''And good morning to you, Flash Jones:' she hummed.
The strawberry cat lay on his back, licking one of his white paws. He
looked up at Lizbeths voice, eyes wide, as if saying, How dare you
interrupt me during this sacred act! Placing her brother's breakfast on
the ground, Lizbeth rushed at the animal, giggling-but FlashJones
whirled to his feet and bolted a few strides away. He stopped and turned
his head. Lizbeth turned as well and began walking in the opposite
direction, pretending to ignore the beast. Not able to bear this lack of
attention, Flash trotted up beside Lizbeth and was quickly captured by
her descending arms. The girl brought the lively,warm fur to her chest
and embraced it, despite the eat's struggles. After realizing the futility of
his efforts, Flash Jones surrendered to Lizbeths affection. A final peck to
the forehead was endured, and the feline was set free. Lizberh reclaimed
her produce and went back into her house, as the cat circled a spot on
the porch and crashed down onto it for a nap.

Once inside, Lizbeth cleaned the grapes, carrots, and peppers,
using a small basin of water, set them on a disc of pewter, and tiptoed
to her brother's room, so as not to wake him. The door was ajar, so she
entered knockless. Hardly any light had invaded, for her brother had
masked the window with one of his quilts. Lizbeth put the plate on the
nightsrand, smiled down at her sibling, hair splayed like the branches of
an old elm, and turned to leave.

"You know, I'd really like an apple this morning:' called a raspy
voice from behind her.

Lizbeth stopped at the door. "Oh? I would bring you one, but
we've run out. Won't that do for now?" she asked, nodding toward the
plate.

Rolling over, eyes still closed, Lizbeths brother hissed through
his teeth. "It is not what I consider sufficient."

"Why not take a morning stroll to the apple orchard, then?
I'll go along with you. It has been a while since you've seen a fresh sun.
Yes,I think a morning stroll will do you some good." No reply came for
many seconds, for the fellow had fallen back asleep. Shrugging, Lizbeth
turned to-

"An apple would do me some good. And a stroll would do you
some goo.d" .

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