Griselda was a beautiful grey cat and a good friend to her master Mr Jenkins of the far-famed grocery store at the corner. Griselda was always kept at the premises to fulfil her mission in life to keep away mice from the valuable foodstuffs that lay in neat piles on the shelves at Mr Jenkins’. As a reward Griselda had lovely creamy milk and tit-bits in the way of salmon and liver, such as brought many a contented purr thanks from her grateful heart. For Mr Jenkins did not think mice should be the sole diet of Griselda; in fact, very few ever came near that efficient little lady so nobly had she scared them away the past

Griselda’s master had a nice home outside Reading near enough to run in, in good for business, yet taking him out for a breather as he put it, each evening and for week ends among his roses, phlox honeysuckle. He had two dogs there, a Cairn called Cora after the King’s pet dog and an Aberdeen named MacGregor. But he had very weak spot in his heart for the shop-loving Griselda and always saw she was fed daily when he was at his country house for week-ends. In fact Griselda had a little window ajar for her to jump out into the miniature garden at the rear of the shop, and neighbours came with fresh milk through the back-gate. But she loved the shop window. It was one the holiday week-ends with a Monday in it that all the fun over Griselda and the great warm-hearted public began. A ’phone call came through telling Mr Jenkins that a cat was sleeping in his deserted shop and he had a heart of stone to leave her there neglected?

Having answered the 'phone politely and told the caller Griselda was well cared for, Mr Jenkins went back to his roses, tying the fast-growing shoots higher up the trellis, looping up the big shasta daisies and tidily grouping the tall Michaelmas daisy clumps with stakes. “What a dream of peace is an English garden” he murmured to himself, “what tranquil undisturbed beauty, what calm!”

The hoot of a car sounded loudly imperatively.
“Someone for round of golf” thought Mr Jenkins.
Two rather flustered ladies jumped from the car and one in business-like Burberry and beret, with face tanned by summer suns asked none too politely “Is it your cat lying hungry and alone in the Corner Grocery Store, I would know?”
“Cat?” said Mr Jenkins dreamily coming back from his peaceful musing stern reality. “Cat? What cat?” he repeated.
“Your cat we understand” said the lady producing a notebook “Men like you ought to be hung and quartered.” Mr Jenkins muttered something like “Draw it mild.”
Mr Jenkins waited politely.
"Yes” the lady went on, “it is men you who have brought our dear land to the verge of bankruptcy.”
Mr Jenkins raised a surprised eyebrow.
"You heartless selfish depraved creatures, who can desert a suffering cat are the very ones I would have publicly flogged,” the lady continued.

Mr Jenkins looked helplessly round for some retreat from this abuse and two dogs sighting their beloved master ran down the path barking with delight.
"Come to lick the hand that smites them, I suppose,” the lady continued, “and the coward says not a word.”

The dogs showed every sign of affection towards their master, and confident in their affection and protection, he asked mildly, “You were saying about a cat?”
“I should think we were, torturer of the innocent,” she cried passionately. “Your cat, moreover, lying starved and half-dead a window of your store in the city forgotten while you . . . you . . . ” The lady choked with anger.

A heavy tread was heard on the gravel. A burly but pleasant form appeared among the bowers of roses.
“Beg pardon sir” said a kindly policeman “but the honourable treasurer of the Humane League passed your shop to-day and reported as follows: Cat in window, sir. Curled up unconscious, sir. Although seemingly well-fed, evidently left to die alone over the holiday week-end. Grey in colour. Colour of eyes not discernible. Nose snub.”

“Oh help!” cried Mr Jenkins, “that’s our shop cat Griselda, and of course she’s unconscious, because she’s asleep after a heavy meal of pink salmon. Her eyes are wonderful jade green. She is the apple of my eye. She is the apple of the eyes of ail assistants. She lives at the shop. Somebody goes in twice a day to see if she is fit and well. She has a little cat’s kennel under bower of roses in the little garden at the back of the shop. She has a red ribbon for high days and holidays. She had a bell but it warned the mice off. We keep her there to scare away the mice from the food. We have had her from a kitten. She has taken prize at the Shop Cat’s Show. She is the acme of charm and grace. She is a cat of cats.”

“No use sir I’m afraid” said P.c. 52 producing handcuffs, “you must come along with sir. Sorry but the law’s the law.”

Mr Jenkins saw the only thing to do was to submit. The dogs barked wildly at the heels of P.c. 52 as he led Mr Jenkins through the gate into the unknown. Griselda was still peacefully sleeping in the window of the Corner Store when the policeman, Mr Jenkins, and the two indignant ladies arrived. A crowd was round the windows, and boys incited by the remarks of onlookers were armed with stones actually waiting to draw the blood of the innocent Jenkins. Their fierce looks and angry snarls would have daunted a more courageous heart, but Mr Jenkins armed as he was with the power of justice and innocence feared them not.

“Come in all you” he cried “You see for yourselves if my cat is fed or not.”

Griselda hearing the loved accents jumped from window and rubbed round her master's legs. Yes there was saucer of milk, and another trimmed with pink roses, also contained pink salmon, the remains of Griselda’s feast. Anger died down in the crowd as they saw the cat was indeed beautiful, comely, well-fed and adorable.

“Now perhaps I can explain,” said Mr Jenkins. “Yesterday I was fetched from my country home three times to see about my cat, today violent hands laid me, but,” said he, raising a hand before which the crowd retreated hastily, “right has prevailed. Justice is vindicated. I will put a notice in my window - This cat is tended every day and given milk and suitable and varied meals”