Pluto -- this was the cat's name -- was my favorite pet and playmate.
I took from my waistcoat-pocket a pen-knife, opened it, grasped the poor beast by the throat, and deliberately cut one of its eyes from the socket !
The cat, I remembered, had been hung in a garden adjacent to the house.
Uplifting an axe, and forgetting, in my wrath, the childish dread which had hitherto stayed my hand, I aimed a blow at the animal which, of course, would have proved instantly fatal had it descended as I wished.
But this blow was arrested by the hand of my wife.
I determined to wall it up in the cellar -- as the monks of the middle ages are recorded to have walled up their victims.