Shortly, somethin come up behind John. Then it walked on by him. It was a black, shiny cat, walkin in out of the rain. It was blacker than night and blacker than coal, too, that black cat was. And it eased over to the fireplace. And it sat right down in the fire. Picked up a red-hot coal in its paws and stuck out its tongue and licked at the coal. Just like lickin some milk, it did too lick that red-hot coal! John not sayin a word, not payin that cat any mind atall. He had cats at home. But none lived in his house. Nor sat down in a blazin fire and licked up a hot coal. He said his prayers like he was supposed to, but a little faster now.

As quick as a crack of the fire, a long shadow fell over John. It walk around him. The shadow turn out to be a cat, too, only this cat was no kind of house cat. This cat was as big as a huntin dog. Black as coal and his collar fur standin up on his shoulders. The great big cat sat down in the fire and picked up a live, red coal. And he dusts his cheeks with it like that burnin coal lust a powder puff. He powders his nose with it, and as proper as you please.

—“Better Wait Till Martin Comes,”
Virginia Hamilton

In what way do the two cats repeat the same idea or element?

They both sit in the fire.
They both purr.
They both scratch John.
They are both named Martin.