Thursday March 12th

It was frozen hard enough this morning so that I could haul manure on the old bean patch which was bare ground and I got quite a bit out by noon when it became to soft and the waggon cut through. Right after dinner Reg. Scott came over with his rifle to shoot some cats that Marj. wanted killed. He shot two of the half grown kittens but the third one and the yellow cat couldn't be found, and Marj. couldn't decide at the time which one of the black cats was the sick one so we didn't let him shoot either of them. It seemed like a murderous business but Marj. has been distressed all winter at the prospect of of supporting six cats four of which are feminine felines, as it is I think Reg killed the only two tom-kittens we had.