Chapter XXV: Eventide 261 (2)

I did love that catmint bed, and never for one moment doubt that in the boundless green fields of Paradise we shall have acres of catmint where we can roll to our hearts' content. I did try to encourage the poor neglected ones with this prospect, but they did not believe me. They said I was a "cat fanatic," "a fool," "a revivalist." They said, "If we are to be so cared for, then why don't your 'heavenly father' that you think so much of do something for us now?" And they all talked at once and were so excited, they hissed and yelled so loud, that my nerves were all of a quiver; but I stood my ground, though they pressed on me very hard, and breathed so much catmint over me I was glad when my mistress, hearing the row, came and took me away.

It was many days before I visited that catmint bed again, for it rained very hard. Miss Eleanor remarked that Daisy was rather quiet; she feared he was sick. I could have told her my heart was sick, trying to solve the problem, how I could reform my race, how make people believe them the intelligent beings they are.

After this I had to bear jeers and scoffs; but I would not give up my principles nor yet my catmint bed. Many were the scratches Miss Eleanor got, pulling me out from under the bushes, for the smell magnetized me. She always got me by the tail or leg, she cared not which, so that she carried me home and saved Miss Milly anxiety.

The people were very nice to me. One quiet young man, an artist, was very fond of me, and said I would make a fine subject for a picture. I used to flourish my tail and hold my head on one side just like a fool, I suppose; but then I know I am a beauty. I hear it every day, and how can I help being vain?

Before returning to Boston we paid a short visit to one of our friends. She had a delightful home, and the children were very much pleased to have me visit them.

As I have quite an adventure to relate, where I did not distinguish myself, I will take another chapter, and give it in full, without extenuating my faults, leaving them to be judged by my readers.

VI

DAISY'S ADVENTURE

The eldest son and daughter were very kind to me, and I thought them just lovely. Their mother was an old friend of mine, and always when she came to Boston I was delighted to see her. I would jump up in her lap--a favor that I did not often grant to any one. Cats can tell who are true and who are false. I could have given my mistress points on this subject, for she believed in those she loved, and was often deceived.

There was a dog and cat that were great favorites with all the family. Spot, the dog, was very plain,--a great lanky creature,--but he had one virtue; that was obedience. Tom, the cat, was a hard-looking creature, but they all loved him dearly.

Of course both dog and cat hated me. They thought I put on airs, and they resented the affection their mistress gave to me. I walked about the garden, regardless of their hisses and growls; and they very soon got tired of it, when they saw I did not notice them. Mr. George, the eldest son, had Spot in complete subjection, and Tom dared not approach me when the family were near.

Miss Eleanor and Miss Milly were invited to the seashore. They had decided not to accept the invitation, as they could not take me with them. Mrs. H. urged their going, saying: "It is just what you both need,--change of air. I can take care of Daisy; it will be a pleasure." So it was decided.

When they kissed me at parting, and said, "How can we leave you, Daisy?" my heart ached so that I was too wretched to live. Had not Mrs. H. held me tight, I would have followed the carriage that took them away from me. Spot and Tom looked anxiously on. They thought, "Is this upstart to be left here to rule over us?"

Mrs. H. said that Spot must be kept at the store, only coming home at night. She tried her best to have Tom friendly with me, but a more obstinate cat I never met. He would stay in the room with me, and once took his dinner out of the same plate after they had kept him hungry a long time; but never could they make him friendly with me. I tried to be just to him, knowing how hard it was to have a "handsome, fashionable" cat, as they called me, come into their home and share their friends.

And then there was that collar and padlock. How much I suffered for that little bit of finery! And yet I loved it dearly. I never struck an attitude (as my mistress called it) without my padlock was in full sight, just under my chin, where I had placed it.

How long that one week was to me, and I am ashamed to say how many disgraceful acts I was guilty of. One night the climax was reached, and then my character was ruined for that family. I slept in the room with Mrs. H.--much to her husband's disgust.

It was a nice lounge I had, with a blanket on it, and any cat might have been happy there. Tom was envious of it, for one day he walked in and was just about to jump up there for a nap, when I jumped up before him, and gave a powerful hiss right in his face. He was all ready to fight when his mistress came in and giving him a shake, said, "If I ever hear you hiss at Daisy again, I will punish you."

Poor Tom! He knew he was unjustly accused, but what could he do, and I did feel mean, but what could I do either? I could not speak. I might have hissed; then, she would have known who was the offender. I did not, however, but just glared at Tom when she carried him off.

One night I could not sleep. I was homesick. So I just walked over the bureau, clinking the glasses and toilet bottles, and then mounted the mantle, meandering about sure-footed, though I did kick over a wooden ball, for pure mischief. I threw it on the floor, where it crashed down loud.

Mrs. H. started up, saying, "That cat is on the mantle; she will break the vases and clock."

"Let her break them," Mr. H. replied; "we shall get off cheap if that is all the mischief she does." And he went off to sleep again.

When Mrs. H. reached the mantle, no cat was to be found.

"Oh, Daisy," she said, "there you are, so demure, sitting on that chair! You are just like your mistress, so cute, no wonder she loves you dearly."

After coaxing me to lie down on the lounge, she went to bed, and soon fell asleep. I could not sleep, however. I had a restless desire to go and find my friends.

The end window was open at the top; it faced on a narrow piazza that extended the length of the house. It was gravelled on the top. I was very agile, and giving one spring from the top of a chair, I soon reached the window, and overlooked the situation. A good jump, and I landed on my feet, and walked along, crunching the gravel as I went.

I passed the bath-room window and then approached the window of Mr. George's room, which was open wide, but protected by a heavy screen. Here I planted my paws and looked in. One wild yell and a succession of barks rent the air, and Spot, who had been sleeping at the foot of his master's bed, rushed for the window and would soon have dashed through the screen and finished me,--for he was a powerful dog,--but his master's hand on his collar restrained him, with the other hand he reached for his pistol, thinking there were burglars about. His mother's voice at the door arrested him, and he opened the door, to meet her anxious question, "Is Daisy safe?"

"She is safe enough," he said; "but are we safe with a cat like this one in the house?"

"Take Spot into my room," said his mother, "while I get Daisy." In spite of her alarm, as she approached the window, she could not help laughing. "Oh, you cunning creature!" she said; "just as composed as possible, looking from one to the other, as if to say,--'Why, what is all this fuss about?'"

Sure enough, I stood with my paws on the window-sill, and did not move till she came, and removing the screen took me into the room where all the family were assembled, in undress, while Spot's loud barking could be heard from the next room. I was taken into the guest chamber, where Mrs. H. remained with me; for she said she was convinced no one could govern me but my mistress.

Two days more, and I was made happy by the sight of my loved ones. Mrs. H. did not tell them for a long time of my naughtiness. They said their visit was pleasant, but without me they had decided never to go away again. They said their friend had given them an invitation for me when they visited her another year. And it was really true. The next year they did take me; and as it is all fresh in my memory now, I will jump one year and tell you all about it.

I saw the cats they had told me about. One was called "Forepaugh," and she did look just like a real circus cat. She had one brown and one blue eye. The other cat was called "Spring." I liked them both very much. They were not educated cats, but they had good manners, and were very kind hearted.

Forepaugh told me sad stories of the cats around. She said very few people made them members of the family, as we were. Most of the cats were tramps, living in the fields and woods, afraid of every human being, having to steal or starve. They were naturally antagonistic to cats that had homes. They never had known kindness and could not believe in it. She said if ever a missionary was needed, she thought it was right here.

She said that just below, near the poorhouse, was a large field called "Cat Swamp," because all the cats for miles around congregated here. Some "dudes" had altered the name to "Feline Meadow." "Cat Swamp" held the fort, however, as the most appropriate name. Here the cats yelled and caterwauled and told all their trials and sorrows caused by mankind.

The fights were fearful, and the heaps of fur to be seen around after one of these encounters proved in reality that there was nothing ideal in the tongues and sounds heard in this region. They said there was no help for it; people could not be made to realize that cats had a claim on them.

For several nights I had noticed one of the neighbors' cats sitting on the fence and listening intently to our conversation. This evening she came nearer, and gave a groan, while Forepaugh was speaking to me of the neglected cats. At last she said if she might be allowed to express an opinion, she had one all ready. We said at once how glad we would be to hear her.

"Suppose," she said, "some of your good Boston people, with their little tracts on the treatment of dumb animals, come along! What then! We can't eat their tracts, or live on them, can we?"

I didn't like to answer this cat, she was so big and aggressive, and looked at me with such spite, as if she thought I liked tracts, and the people who carry them about, when I do despise them. Finding I did not answer, she continued:--

"There it all ends. A lot of women will get together, with a few men thrown in, and they will talk and talk, going all around Robin Hood's barn, till they lose the thread of their discourse, and we wish some big bat would rush out and catch the thread and bring them to the point. Then they argue and draw up resolutions, and call upon the brethren to agree to them, which the poor men do, because they are afraid of the sisters' tongues. Then they are exhausted, and are obliged, 'as weaker vessels,' to drink gallons of tea, and the men smoke acres of cigars, and it all ends in smoke and tea grounds for us poor cats. The women think about each other's clothes, while the men are wondering if the women are rich enough to support them, should they propose marriage. Naturally cats are forgotten.

"Sometimes they find a home for a good-looking cat, but it is not a satisfactory one. Such people are not supposed to know much about people with hearts large enough to take interest in cats. They are handed over to high-toned servants, to pet and snub in alternation. The poor no-tailed horses, made wretched by the abominable check-rein and the flies, hate everything that moves, and kick at us. The liveried servants smoke in our faces, swear, and spit on us, till we hide ourselves in disgust and wonder if animals have dirtier habits than human beings.

"When the family returns to the city the house is closed, and these Christian people leave poor Pussy behind to look out for herself. Is it any wonder that cats have no faith in any one? That they join the midnight revels, and fight, and steal, to keep them alive?"

She was very sarcastic, but Forepaugh said it was all true; that cats were cast off just as if they had no right to live; then when they steal some bit of food, they are given a bad character and hunted about. They are expected to have better morals than human beings.

Forepaugh said that she had a real respect for this cat, that she knew all the cats for miles around, and helped them all she could; she said that hearing their tales of sorrow had made her cynical.

"I had thought her disagreeable," Forepaugh said, "till one night I saw her tugging along the remains of a big fish which a neighbor who had been out fishing had given her. I had the curiosity to follow her. She had to take a rest frequently, for the fish was heavy. At last, after walking a long distance, she dragged it over a stone wall. Soon feeble voices greeted her, and two half-starved cats that had been abused by bad boys raised themselves up, while their friend tore the fish to pieces with her sharp teeth. I got over the wall and helped her. They all were shy of me and inclined to sneer because I had a home, but I said I did not care; it made me mad, but I put all my madness into tearing up the fish, and they satisfied their hunger."

Forepaugh also said that their friend, not satisfied with feeding them, began to lick one of the great wounds made by a sharp stone thrown by a boy just for fun. Then, as they were thirsty, they dragged themselves down to a brook at the end of the field, and after drinking they were very comfortable. Then they told their trials, and said, "What can we do to make people kind to us?"

Forepaugh said she had heard of a Dr. Angell, who was devoting his life to helping dumb animals. They all yelled and scoffed when she said "Angell," saying, "Do you believe there is an angel in heaven that would look at a cat?"

Forepaugh said (being a Christian cat) she was shocked. She explained to them that it was the name, though she said, "I am sure it is appropriate, for he has proved himself one by his help to all helpless creatures."

"Well," they said, "we wish he could see us and help us. Why can't some one speak to him? Perhaps, though, he will think cats beneath his notice."

Forepaugh said she had often thought she wished she could see him and tell him about their sufferings. She said, "I always respected that cat after that night when we walked home by moonlight, after taking care of those cats; and when she sat down on a stone, saying, 'I must rest, for I feel faint; I have had no food for some hours, for I knew that fish would be only enough for them,' I said, 'You shall have some of my supper,' and I got her some pieces of meat and gave her all my milk, and went to bed happy, though I was rather empty."

After this I did have a real friendship for Forepaugh, and I told her if ever I could, I would try to interest this good man in our race. I had not then thought I should ever write a book, but now is my chance, and somehow I do feel he will help us.

The cynical cat never would make friends with me, but I did admire her, and I feel how small my life is compared with hers. Here am I, petted and living in plenty, and I can only be grateful and try to be a comfort to my dear friend.

Forepaugh told us that at one of the great shore houses they had a cat called Prometheus.

"Oh," said our cynic, "how I wish we could get at his liver; we should never want for food."

I pondered over that speech, and one day I heard my mistress telling her little niece, who was reading mythology, the story of Prometheus, "who was bound to a rock, vultures feeding upon his ever growing liver." It was very funny for a country bred cat to be versed in mythology. I suppose, however, she heard it, as I often do things my mistress and her friend talk about, and the liver made her remember it.

I was heartily glad to return to Boston, and I made up my mind I would let cats and all the animals I could reach know that they had not met the true philanthropists, but the shams that take up every new cause and dishonor it. For there are many earnest, true philanthropists who spend money and publish nice tracts in behalf of animals, and thus, in a measure, the tracts "do feed" animals; for they open the eyes of those who perhaps have never thought of the matter earnestly.

I determined, after my visit to Beverly, to write this book to help my unfortunate race.

VII

CAT MEMORIES

Our new room, a very large alcove, was pleasant and comfortable. The people who owned the house were school-teachers, refined, and the atmosphere was congenial to us all. I loved to watch my friend's busy fingers and follow Miss Milly's pen, as she wrote for hours at her desk. I loved to walk over the fresh writing and flirt my tail over the ink-bottle. That would make her stop and scold me, then pet me till I was willing she should return to her work. The eyes of affection are sharp. I saw with pain that they were obliged often to lie down, after a long spell of work, but they never complained.

Mrs. Knight came often to see us, but I did not see Stacy for a long time. He was busy with his studies at Harvard, but he sent me kind messages, and I knew he loved me. Our boys were not with us, and I had no young company; but then, I was happy for I could see and hear from our young friends frequently.

I always greeted dear Mrs. Knight with delight. She had a camel's hair shawl she used to roll me in, when we lived in her house, and I loved to claw it and pull the wool out of it. I wondered she did not wear it, but then, I suppose, it was old fashioned. She told me that her cat Solomon was very fond of it, and she allowed him to sleep on the lounge with that shawl under him.

I felt a little jealous of Solomon, but I doubt if they ever love another cat as well as they love me. They said Solomon had no associates, though they lived on the swell avenue.

The cats belonging there were only tolerated one-half the year. The cats that were not boarded out were left to become tramps. Of course these cats were very immoral, and they did not think it would improve Solomon to be friendly with them. I did smile when Mrs. Knight said, "Daisy is such a perfect cat, we hold him up as a model for Solomon."

I wondered how Sol would like that, for he told me he did not like being kept in. He guessed he could take care of his morals; the society cats could not hurt him.

One day he proved himself not so wise as his name would indicate. He fell out of the third story window. When they gathered around him, thinking he would have to be chloroformed, he got up, shook himself, and lived.

He told me very sad tales of the cats living in that vicinity. "Would you not think," he said, "that in these palatial houses there would be room for one cat?"

I said I should think they would want two or three. He shook his wise head, saying, "Oh, no. If they see a cat that pleases them, some superannuated spinster will gush over her, making her a pet for a little while. But let poor Pussy fall ill, or get one flea on her, and out she goes into outer darkness."

"Oh," I said, "don't speak like that! my two dear friends are 'maiden ladies,' and no one can be kinder to animals than they are. The sick and unfortunate always appeal to their sympathy, and not in vain. I remember Miss Eleanor washing every day a poor neglected black cat whose eye a rat had bitten. It was not a pleasant piece of work, I can tell you, and she tended that eye so faithfully that it got well. They would go hungry to give food to a poor animal that needed it."

"Well, well, it may be so," said Sol, impressed by my indignant protest; "but I have heard that old bachelors and old maids are always the hardest on animals."

I indignantly denied this. "It is married people who dislike each other and cannot get free, who have horrid children--they are the hard ones. They do not want the care of their children themselves, and expect animals to offer themselves to be tortured by these wretched children. And if they defend themselves, refusing to have their eyes poked out with sticks, tin pails tied to their tails, and lighted matches held to their noses, and bite or scratch, then they are denounced as vile, and are given bad characters that will follow them through life."

I had spoken with real feeling, and I could see that Sol believed me.

"You are right, I suppose," he said. "We are both of us fortunate cats; 'our lives have fallen in pleasant places.'"

Poor Sol! He was so wise he had to quote Scripture, even if he did not understand it; and in this he was no worse than human beings. Do half of them know the meaning of the passages of Scripture they quote so confidently?

"We," he continued in a sentimental tone, "cannot realize how hard it is to be outcasts. These closed-up houses and boarded-up doors are gloomy enough during the summer months. At dusk the skeleton forms that steal out, too feeble to mew, start at every sound, fearing the stones and jeers they are sure to meet from the stray ragamuffin children who roam about this deserted region. Their hearts are broken,--for cats have hearts, and loving ones too,--and it is hard for them to believe that those who have sometimes noticed them have left them alone. I do not know," he continued, "where we are going, but I do not believe we were made in vain, and I think these heartless people will find in the hereafter that the animals they have abused will be avenged."

"All I desire," said I, "is to be with my two dear friends." And to this Solomon said, "Amen."

I like Sol very much. He is a very well educated cat and looks upon life in a serious manner. He has grown quite large and appreciates his good home. I think he is a Christian Endeavorer, and will do all he can for homeless cats. I remember his wise words; and when dear Mrs. Knight brings me some of his catmint, I enjoy it for itself, because I love it, and in memory of his friendship. One can remember his friends even if he does not meet them often. Perhaps if we were to see each other every day, we should disagree.

VIII

AN ACCIDENT

We had a very nice home in the country offered us, which we were very glad to take advantage of. The people who owned the place, going to the seashore, preferred to have their house occupied rather than shut up, doing no one any good.

It was very pleasant there, and we had a very delightful time, though the accident which nearly cost me my life, and from which I shall never recover, happened there.

It was the day before the Fourth of July. Miss Milly had been to Boston to the funeral of our beloved Doctor. Miss Eleanor being too unwell to go, we kept each other company, and sad enough we were.

When Miss Milly returned, she was thoroughly worn out with grief at the loss of her dear friend and Doctor. It was a great loss to me, for I had been his special pet. During our dear Mrs. Rice's sickness I watched for his daily visit and knew his ring always. He would say: "Well, Daisy, how is your health to-day? Put out your tongue." Which, with Miss Milly's help, I would do. Then he would take my paw and feel my pulse in the most sober manner.

How nice it was! I would not give up this memory for a great deal of money. I could tell by his face just how our dear invalid was, and when he told them his skill was in vain, and that he could not save her, I saw the tears in his eyes as he took me in his arms. He was a perfect gentleman, and we all loved him and respected his great knowledge and skill.

We were sitting on the piazza talking about him, when I saw something move over under the trees. Supposing it might be a squirrel, I went to interview him, thinking that if I could kill something I should feel better. My mistresses were so preoccupied that when they went in to tea they never noticed that I had not followed them.

Finding no squirrel, I sat down under a pine tree, thinking about the beautiful flowers and the music Miss Milly had told us about, at the church funeral of our friend, and mourning that I should never see our dear Doctor again, and wondering what Miss Milly would do without him, when a rush, and a bark, and before I could face around a fierce bulldog buried his teeth in my shoulder. I fought for my life, though I felt the odds were against me. But let him kill me; I would die game. I did claw his eyes, blinding him and giving me chance to escape.

I crawled over the grass, then through the fence, into the neighboring estate, and hid myself in the bushes and deep grass. Then I lost consciousness. At times I realized my pain, and my brain was clear, for all my past life passed before me.

How beautiful seemed my dear home and friends, that I should never see again! Then the old childish days, when I had frolicked with my poor mother, came to me so vividly I could smell the sweet clover where we played; and then the dreadful pain and faintness made me realize the end was near.

I said, "I shall see our dear Doctor, and he will say, 'Why, Daisy! Have you followed me so soon?'" It was all dreamy; another fainting spell had come on, and it was nearly morning before I was again conscious. Then I thought, "I must try to see my dear mistresses once more, even if to die in sight of their windows." I was half crazed when I thought of their sorrow.

With the greatest effort I raised myself up, and it was nearly an hour before I reached the tree, the scene of yesterday's disaster. Inch by inch I crawled along, with all the courage I could command. If cats have nine lives, I lost eight of mine on that journey. I could not see; my eyes were closed up by cobwebs, from the bushes I had crawled under when I hid myself. I felt my way along, and when the tree was reached fell down exhausted.

Soon I heard a soft step, and Miss Eleanor gathered me up in her arms, trembling with fear that she should hurt me. She cried out with pain when she saw my bloody side, with the skin and fur hanging down nearly a quarter of a yard. She folded her apron, and held me in that, as I could be moved easily in that way; and I never winced, though the least jar hurt me, closing my eyes, and feeling I could die in peace. She carried me upstairs to Miss Milly's bedside.

Poor Miss Milly! She had not closed her eyes till toward morning, when she fell into a doze. She opened her eyes when Miss Eleanor spoke, and screamed with pleasure when she caught sight of me. She held out her arms; but Miss Eleanor said, "Do not move him." Then, when she opened her apron, and Miss Milly saw my torn and bloody side, she cried as if her heart would break, saying, "He will die! What shall we do?"

"Dress yourself quickly, and we will see what can be done. One comfort: he will be with us, and will have our care, even if we must lose him."

They folded a blanket, laid it on a wide lounge, then covered it with a clean sheet folded thick, and laid me on it. Then Miss Milly soaked off the cobwebs from my eyes with warm water and a soft cloth, and I could just see a little; but it was like a view of heaven to see their dear faces once more.

I tried to lap some warm milk, for the fever had made me thirsty. The effort was too much, and I fell back, faint and dizzy. When this attack passed off, I took a few drops of water from a spoon, and Miss Milly sat for an hour patiently, giving me drop by drop, till my parched tongue and throat were relieved.

She sponged around the wound, soaking the clotted blood from my fur so tenderly that I suffered very little.

My heart was so full of thankfulness that I would not murmur at my pains. And I do not think it was such a great virtue, though the suffering was fearful, for I think animals bear pain always with more fortitude than human beings.

Miss Eleanor went into Boston as soon as possible. Mrs. Knight was very much distressed, and at once went with her to see the great doctor for animals, Dr. Watts. He said he could not leave his office the Fourth of July. He said he thought my shoulder bone was bent, and as I was so old, he should advise bathing, without trying to have it operated upon. He gave them a liniment, saying he did not think I would ever get over it.

Miss Milly said he evidently thought me an old cat, and that I had better die than live and suffer. "He shall not die," she added, "if we can save him."

The liniment was just fearful, Miss Milly held my head in her arms, covering my eyes and nose; for it was very strong, and drew tears from their eyes. Miss Eleanor applied it slowly. I winced and moaned, but tried hard to restrain myself, for I knew they were suffering with me. And I was anxious to bear it; for somehow I had faith in Dr. Watts, and I believed it would help me.

Never had a patient better care. They made me catmint tea, and rubbed it on their hands so I could smell of it, and never left me alone. They kept the sheet smooth under me, for I could not turn over. It was like heaven to me, and after I had slept a little while, I opened my eyes, and seeing Miss Milly bending over me, I purred and put out my tongue to lick her hand. She kissed me with delight, and both of them caressed me, saying, "He will live, and no matter how much trouble he is, we will be only too glad to do for him."

It was very true. From that day I got better slowly. I could turn over, and the hanging skin and fur fell off; and they kept soft greasy handkerchiefs on the wound till it closed over and healed. In two weeks the fur began to grow, and soon I had as lovely a coat as before my accident.

Just one week did I keep good, because I could not help myself. Then, one day, they went down to dinner, leaving me asleep on the lounge.

I said to myself when I awoke, "This has lasted long enough; I will not be an invalid longer." I crawled down and surprised them. They gathered me up, and carried me back, saying: "You will not get well so soon if you behave like this. We will close the door when we leave the room after this, for we see that you are not to be trusted."

It did put me back, but my one desire was to get about, and I was soon able to. My shoulder was stiff, and it was a good six weeks before I could walk about with comfort. I limped a little, but my mistress laughed over it, saying it was an aristocratic limp--like some old gentleman leaning on his gold-headed cane.

It was due to the love and care of these dear friends that my life was saved--another debt added to the long list of favors I received from them. I hope my little book will be successful and prove how much I loved and appreciated them.

I have never been strong since my accident. There were internal injuries, and I often have an inward fever and great pain. I keep it to myself when I can, for if they find my breath feverish and my paws hot, they are very anxious and dose me with aconite and sometimes oil. Aconite I can take, but I do just hate oil. I act like a bad boy when it is given to me.

My misfortune had one bright side; it gave us nice neighbors. Very congenial ones they were.

When my mistress left me, to go in to tea that afternoon, they thought I had followed them, and had not missed me. Two tramp children shouted at the window, "Missus, your cat's killed! We seed a dog kill him."

They ran out to question the children, but could get no satisfaction. Then they called, "Daisy, Daisy!" all around the house and grounds; for they could not believe I was lost. The children must be mistaken.

There were some young people playing tennis on the Anchorage grounds,--the Admiral's place opposite,--and they came over when they saw Miss Eleanor and Miss Milly, and said they had seen the attack. They said the loud barking of a dog and a scream from the girl who was wheeling a baby carriage called their attention. They thought Daisy was killed; they saw him move, but could not tell in what direction; they said they did not believe it could be far off, as he must have received his death wound. The dog was a fierce bulldog, and belonged to the girl who had screamed. She had wheeled the carriage off quickly and called the dog, who was howling and bleeding from the encounter. They said, had they only been able to get a pistol, they would have shot the dog at once; but no one dare interfere with an enraged bull dog. And they had no time, for it all passed so quickly.

They came over and very kindly helped in the search, going down cellar, looking in the cold air box, and over the grounds. Where I could have taken myself so quickly, they could not understand. After their dinner they searched again--without success, however.

The Admiral's charming daughter, with her friend from a neighboring place, was very kind, calling the next day, trying to comfort my distracted friends.

It was after twelve o'clock before they went into the house; then they could not rest, walking out on the piazza, or sitting in the bay-window, and starting at every sound or shadow. Miss Milly said if they could only give me Christian burial, she could bear it better. It was a night never to be forgotten by them, and they loved me more, if possible, for what they had suffered when they thought they had lost me.

The young ladies I was soon quite intimate with. They brought ice-cream and jelly to me, and beautiful flowers. Of course we understood it was a delicate attention offered through me; in fact, it was using me as a "cat's paw." We had nice times sitting in the porch or on the piazza. They were so bright and chatty, talking about books they had read. I could not read books, but I could sit on them and look wise, and I never was known to scratch one.

In the next house were two pet cats. One was Maltese, the other black, with white breast and paws. They were very large and dignified. There was one singular feature about them: both had double thumbs. After I became acquainted with them I asked them why they did not join a circus or museum. Oh, my! how mad they were, for they were very proud and exclusive; and at first were very shy of associating with me till they saw what nice company we had. They said they thought we must be poor, for we kept no servant.

I told them we were poor, but we did not judge people by their money; that I guessed that so far as brains and culture and good breeding were concerned, my mistresses could beat the neighborhood, if we did not keep help. Then I pushed open the screen door and banged it in their faces. I was so very mad I never looked at them for a long time, and kept on the piazza at the other side of the house.

I did forgive them, however, but it was after their pride had a fall. The family, went away for some weeks, and the house was closed. They left the small door in the barn open, and a heap of straw, with a blanket over it, for them to sleep on. They engaged the man who cared for the places around to provide them with milk and food; and he was very faithful to them.

How we did pity them! I held up my head and walked away when I saw them, and Miss Eleanor said she did not think I could be so hard-hearted; but I could not stand it when I heard a piteous mew and saw a sad face looking at me, and I at once threw all resentment to the winds and went out with them.

After this they were in our house all the time. As soon as it was light, over they would come, and wait till we came down to breakfast. They went home reluctantly at night, and Miss Eleanor was so good to them she went with them and poked up the straw and shut them in for the night. Miss Milly would say to her: "Did you tell them a bear story? And did they say their prayers?" Miss Eleanor would laugh, and say: "I did pity the poor lonely things; they looked like the babes in the wood when I covered the old blanket over them. Only I thought they had a good, nice auntie instead of a wicked uncle." For, as you will see, I had been told all these stories, or the boys had, and I listened to them.

These cats were very nice to me. They would run up the trees and on top of the bay-window to amuse me; for I could not run or climb very well, though the next year, when we were out there, I could run with them very easily. We had such nice dinners together; for I enjoyed sharing my good things with them, and they were very nice about eating. They did not snort and growl as some cats do, or pick for the best. My mistress used to put down one large platter, and would give each of them the end, while I had the middle. Each shared alike.

We had a great deal of company. I enjoyed them all, particularly the artists. I had an eye for color, though I could not make a telescope of my paw and put it over my eye, exclaiming: "What perspective! What color! What technique!" But I could open both eyes and see if the pictures were true to nature.

Many offers were made by the artists to paint my picture; but my mistress refused them, saying: "Should I lose my Daisy, I could not bear to see a picture of her. I should always carry one in my heart, and would need no other."

Our pleasant home we left the last of September, just when the autumn foliage was in a blaze of color, giving us a delightful picture to remember through the winter. We carried home some pine-cones for our grate, and bright leaves to put in our vases--a very pleasant reminder of our summer home.

We made a pine pillow. I say _we_ because I pulled out the pine as fast as they picked it. At last they were obliged to put me in the closet. I climbed on the shelf and knocked down boxes till, in self-defence, they released me.

But the pine pillow was finished, and I had many good naps on it, remembering those with whom I had played under the pines.

IX

CAT TALES

I had always felt desirous of hearing the history of Topsy. My mother lived one year in the house with her, on good, if not friendly, terms. Her disappearance was a subject I pondered over quite often. Naturally, having taken her place in Miss Milly's affections, I wondered about her.

One day my curiosity was gratified. A friend, very fond of cats, who had known Topsy very well, called. Miss Milly told her this interesting story.

Topsy was a Salem cat, and no one could doubt her being a real witch cat. She was nervous, always on the jump, and "such a smart temper!" Miss Milly said: "I had always been very fond of black cats, but it so happened, though we had cats of all colors, we had never a black one, till the arrival of Topsy. You know," she laughed, "I have always been very proud of calling myself a Salem witch. I have a mole on my left shoulder, and now that the black cat had arrived, I felt that I had all the requirements needful to make a veritable 'Salem witch.' I believe there is some superstition about a black cow, also; but one could not go about leading a black cow quite as well as a cat, and I felt satisfied that would entitle me to the name."

This is the way Topsy came to my mistress: One summer evening a friend drove up to the door with a basket of flowers. Miss Milly was pleased with them, but when under the flowers a little fluffy ball revealed itself, and when the little ball had brilliant yellow eyes, she was delighted. She smoothed its soft fur, saying: "What a lovely kitten! Is it for me?"

As she asked the question, the kitten gave one spring and landed on her shoulder, where she secured her position by sticking her sharp claws into Miss Milly's shoulder. At every attempt to dislodge her, she asserted herself with tooth and nail; having undoubtedly a claw hold, she would never resign.

This was Topsy's first claim on my mistress, and she made a slave of her ever after. All the family were pleased with Topsy. The advent of a coal-black cat into a family was looked upon as a very fortunate occurrence. Such cats have always been singled out from all others as associated with good luck. If one is driven from the house, it is thought to bring disaster.

In northern Europe the idea of prosperity is so associated with a black cat that the owner of a new house often sends a black cat there, before he takes possession, in order to secure good luck. The Egyptians called the cat "Pasht" (their name for the moon) because her eyes were bright in the dark. Of course I heard this from my mistress, and it is probably more interesting to me than to my readers. Miss Milly said Topsy had round yellow eyes, big enough to entitle her to the name of "Pasht."

She was so like Mrs. Stowe's Topsy in "Uncle Tom's Cabin" that no other name could be so appropriate. If standing on her head and fighting every thing that moved, even a leaf, could make her like Topsy, she deserved the name. She was full of life and electricity. If any one smoothed her fur the wrong way, in the dark, sparks would fly, and a snap like a fire-cracker would follow.

We have a picture of her taken with the two boys. Karl has a great sleepy creature called Daisy because he was white and black and had green eyes. He is, as usual, asleep on the boy's knees. Will holds Topsy, and his face wears a distressed expression, for she is tearing and clawing him, trying to escape.

Daisy belonged to Miss Eleanor. She brought him home one evening from a friend's. She put him in a closet over night, Karl slept in his aunt's bed, and just before morning she got Daisy and hid him at the foot of the bed.

When Karl awoke he teased for a story. Aunt Nellie bewitched the children with her original tales of animals. She began the oft-told story of the little pig family, when Karl said,--

"Hark! I hear breathing."

"Nonsense," said Aunt Nellie; "perhaps it is the little pink pig."

Pretty soon, however, the kitten had grown warm and comfortable, and ventured on a louder purr than he had given before. Karl started up saying:--

"Oh, stop! Aunt Nellie, I do bleevs it is a kitty."

There was no longer chance for concealment, and the kitten was produced, to the boy's great delight. When Willie came in from his mother's room to ask for his story, the same fun was repeated.

The children were very much pleased with him, and named him Daisy. Their aunties remonstrated at one of his sex being called Daisy; but when the children asked in an aggrieved manner, "Are there no boy daisies?" as they were not able to answer the question in a satisfactory manner, he was allowed to bear the name of Daisy. (There is no doubt that since then they have decided that boys have as good a right to be called Daisies as girls, for my mistress called me Daisy, and I like it.)

Three years after Daisy came to them he disappeared, and they mourned long for him, particularly because they thought a neighbor who disliked cats had killed him.

Topsy quarrelled with him and drove him about, but Daisy was sweet tempered and bore it so quietly that Topsy despised him. She did not love any cat unless she could fight with him. Topsy had a great many kittens. Like many human mothers, she was not fond of taking care of her children. She was very peremptory, cuffing them right and left at the least provocation. She was a cat "Mrs. Jellyby," the Borrioboola-gha mission being more to her taste than her home. She did not care to chaperon sons and daughters into society, and she cast them adrift as soon as possible. One kitten was always kept for her, and she never seemed to miss the others. When she was ready to wean that one, it was provided with a good home, without the least interest on her part. The family were very fond of kittens, but dared not get interested in them, for they could only keep two at one time.

She had one beautiful little black one, and Miss Eleanor became so fond of her that she decided to keep her for her own. She deserves another chapter.

X

LITTLE PEARL

Little Pearl was coal-black, with one little white star under her chin. She was the only one of all Topsy's kittens that was black. Topsy did show more affection for her than for any of the others. She had bright yellow eyes like her mother's, and her fur was soft and glossy as silk. She was very sweet tempered, and never would strike back, as her brothers and sisters had done when their mother washed them, cuffing them if they dared move.

Miss Eleanor was devoted to little Pearl, but all her care could not keep her. She died from some internal disease when she was about four months old. She was a perfect skeleton, and her mother nursed her out of pity because she could not take much food.

One evening Miss Milly returned home from a visit, and on going to Miss Eleanor's room saw something in the middle of the floor covered with an apron. Miss Eleanor sat by the window, in great affliction. She lifted the apron, and there lay little Pearl, looking just like a lovely piece of sculpture.

Miss Eleanor said: "I had her in my lap, when Topsy came in, and as she seemed to be amiable, I laid little Pearl by the side of her. Topsy began to lick her fur, and then she allowed her to nurse. But it was only a feeble effort; her little lips fell away from her mother's breast, and with one soft sigh little Pearl's short life ended."

Topsy looked at her for one moment, then, with a piteous mew, she rushed out of the room and never returned till Miss Milly found her, and, taking her in her arms, comforted her.

They took a strong pasteboard box and laid in some wool and a soft handkerchief, and little Pearl looked lovely on the soft white bed. They put geraniums and white flowers around her; for she had played often in the fragrant beds they plucked them from. Then the box was closed up and put in a back room till morning. They made Topsy keep an unwilling vigil to keep away rats.

In the morning they engaged three children belonging to a poor family living near them to dig a grave. They came armed with shovels and spades enough to dig many miles. Miss Milly said she worked harder as overseer than she would at digging the grave alone. They were willing to work, but ignorant of the way.

It was a very pathetic sight,--a dark cloudy day, the sun obscured, the wind rustling through the trees, and even the flowers drooped their heads; Miss Eleanor, with the box in her arms, and Miss Milly with the improvised grave-diggers standing by the open grave.

Miss Milly held Topsy in her arms; but it was hard work, she made such frantic efforts to free herself. At last she did escape, and ran up the apple tree, and out on the branch that hung over the open grave. Here she looked down on them, while they laid away her dear little kitten.

After the grave-diggers had raked the earth over the spot, and received their money and departed, Miss Eleanor and Miss Milly put fresh flowers around it and a large pot containing a nice geranium in the middle.