Part 7

Presently the carriage stopped and Miss Dorothy alighted, leaving me on the seat in care of the good, kind coachman. In a few minutes, which seemed hours to me, Miss Dorothy returned to fetch me into the house. My dear mistress met me at the door, and the moment she saw me she said, “Meow, why did you leave me?” at the same time taking me out of Miss Dorothy’s arms. I climbed up to her face and covered her cheeks with kisses.

Poor Miss Dorothy watched me very closely, but after such a greeting she could have no doubt that I was the lost Meow.

“I am sorry to take her from you,” said mistress, “for you must have become attached to her if you have had her all this time.”

“Yes,” said Miss Dorothy, “she has been a most agreeable companion; I shall miss her sorely.”

Then the ladies chatted for a few minutes, Miss Dorothy telling mistress how I was found by her coachman, and mistress telling her when I disappeared; and as the two dates were only one day apart, both rejoiced that I had been fortunate enough to find a new home so soon.

“I will see that you get one in her place,” said mistress, trying to console poor Miss Dorothy, as she arose to go; and I went on the window-sill to see the carriage roll away.

The next thing I did was to look around for my companions, Budge and Toddy. On entering the library I saw upon the table a vase of beautiful flowers, and Budge and Toddy up there walking around the vase, admiring the flowers, and smelling them. I went up to them but they did not seem to remember me, and acted rather uppish--I mean with their backs. But after a while they recognized me as their former playmate, and their backs went down. Of course they wanted to know all about my absence, and they told me of all the searching that had been done, and how mistress would go out in the yard day after day and call for me.

“Even Dennis was hunting for you all over the neighborhood,” said Toddy.

“And Jack came over every day,” said Budge, “to inquire whether you had returned.”

When it got to be time for the children to come from school, I went to the window to watch for Guy. But after all the children had passed by, and he did not come, I went to his room.

There I found a strange lady dressed in blue, and wearing a white cap and apron, and somebody was lying in Guy’s bed. I jumped up on the bed, as I had often done, and saw that it was Guy; but he looked so pale and thin, and to my great surprise, he took no notice of me. The house was very still, and everybody spoke in a whisper; I could not understand what it all meant.

During the afternoon a very tall gentleman called, with a hand bag. They called him “Doctor.” I heard him talk to the strange lady about “temperature” and “quinine” and “hot compress” and other things that I had never heard of before.

At supper-time Dennis came in and I went up to him and looked into his eyes. He put his nose down close to mine and gave a soft low growl; perhaps he was scolding me for having stayed away so long. Early the next morning I scampered over to Jack’s house. I found him seated on the ledge of the fence, intently watching the ash box, but as soon as he saw me he came to meet me.

“Where have you been?” said he, joyfully, as he rubbed his side up against me in the most friendly fashion. “I never expected to see you again, for I was afraid some of those dreadful college boys had got hold of you.”

At this moment Jack’s mistress came out into the yard, and when she saw me she too seemed delighted, and to fitly celebrate my return, she brought out the song box and made it play “The Cat Came Back.”

Of course, I had to give Jack an account of how I happened to disappear so suddenly, and when I told him about my black companion and that woeful night he expressed great surprise.

“That explains Nig’s absence,” said he. “His people, the Mortons, have missed him for several weeks. I don’t blame him for leaving, because they made him stay outdoors on the coldest nights; and they gave him his food in an old tin pan big enough to water a horse with; and his usual fare was plain boiled potatoes, or oat meal mush.”

I told Jack the condition Nig was in when I last saw him, but he said that was nothing unusual for Nig, and that he had often seen him with both eyes closed after a night’s outing.

It was many weeks before Guy went to school again, and as soon as he was able to be up, the nurse permitted me to stay in his room all the time; so I spent many pleasant days with him. He told me about a big Maltese cat that came to the house just before he was taken ill, and how they took her in and fed her as long as she stayed, because they wanted to do by her as they hoped some one was doing by me. I hope the kind Providence helped her to find her home again.

As soon as Guy was strong enough, the nurse taught him how to knit, and he was trying to make a pair of slippers to surprise his mother on her birthday. Oh! the fun I used to have playing with that ball of yarn. Often when it was wound around me, Guy would have to straighten it out before he could go on with his knitting. But once it came near costing me my life. The nurse was out on an errand at the time and Guy had dozed off to sleep, so I concluded to go down-stairs and get a little fresh air. But when I had gone half-way down the stairs something began pulling me back. Harder and harder I jerked, and harder and harder it pulled, till it finally broke and I got away. The yarn was wound around my neck so many times, it seemed like a rope, and I was gasping for breath at the foot of the stairs, when the nurse came in. She quickly cut it with the scissors, or I fear I should never have lived to tell the story of my happy home-coming.

XX

A NEW HOME

As soon as Guy was well again, he and mistress began to pack boxes and trunks, as if getting ready for another journey; and sure enough, one pleasant day as I sat on the window-sill, a big moving van drove up in front of our house.

As soon as mistress saw it she took us cats up to the attic, where we stayed the rest of the day. We looked out of the window, and saw one thing after another carried out of the house, and really we wondered with some misgivings as to what was happening to our dear home; even our basket had been put into the wagon. As we sat thinking these sad thoughts, and wondering what was going to be done with us, Guy came in with a big covered willow basket. He placed us inside of it, closed the cover, fastened it, and took us down-stairs and handed us to the driver. Then he too mounted the wagon, seating himself in front with the driver. I was so glad to see him go with us, and he kept our basket close by his side so that I could see him through the cracks in the basket, and could hear his voice. The rumbling of the wheels was not very pleasant to listen to, and Budge and Toddy were terribly frightened; you see they had never traveled, as I had, and didn’t know what it all meant.

But our journey was very short. We stopped in front of a little white house with vine-covered verandas, where Guy jumped down and took us in, and mistress was there to welcome us. She took us at once up to the attic, and when we emerged from the basket, what should we find but our pads spread out in the sun with a saucer of milk by the side of them. There we stayed until morning, but we did not sleep very much; why? There were too many cozy nooks and corners to explore, and besides that, Toddy said he saw a mouse poke her head above a little hole, and we all watched the hole with him. But I am half afraid the mouse must have seen us, for she took care not to return.

In the morning Guy called us down-stairs and showed us all around the premises, and we were delighted to find such a large green yard with shrubs and trees. In front of the house were three big maples, where we could climb up in case of danger from big dogs.

When we entered the house, we found our dear basket and cushions in a cozy corner of the library, and it just seemed as though 127 Poplar Avenue had been carried down bodily in the moving van. Off mistress’ room was a delightful veranda and it was just the nicest place for us cats, because it used to make the dogs so furious to see us where they could not chase us. Mistress put one of our pads on the veranda, and in very warm weather we stayed out there all night. Budge used to go to sleep on the railing, and it was a common thing to hear his cry down below in the early morning. But the tumble didn’t seem to do him any harm.

On the very next day after we had moved, I was sitting on the window-sill in Guy’s room, looking down into the yard. On top of the board fence separating our yard from our neighbor’s was a big yellow cat, and below on the lawn stood a small white and yellow dog whom they called “Jip.”

“Those are some of our new neighbors,” said mistress, “and we will see if we can get on good terms with them.”

With that she raised the window, and threw out some raw beef. The cat jumped off the fence, and she and the dog both ran for the meat. Mistress threw down several more pieces, and when it ceased to come dropping down, both looked up very wistfully.

About this time another cat appeared, a weak, sickly little creature, looking timorous, and very unhappy. I felt sure that mistress’ heart would be touched at sight of her. The cat and dog had eaten all the meat, so mistress gave some to Guy to take to the little kitty. But she was afraid of him and would not come near, although she seemed very hungry. So Guy took a piece of the meat and threw it to the kitty, at a little distance, and she devoured it most greedily. Then he threw another piece not quite so far, and she came and got that. By throwing each piece a shorter distance, the kitty at last came close enough to Guy to take it out of his hand.

While Guy was feeding the kitty he inquired of a little boy in the next yard if he knew to whom the dog and cats belonged.

“The yellow ones belong to us,” said the boy, “and the little kitty has no home at all; she belonged to the people that moved away.”

[Illustration: THE TWO WERE HOLDING A FRIENDLY TALK IN THE GARDEN]

At this mistress went quickly down the stairs, and when I next saw her, she had captured the timorous creature, and the two were holding a friendly chat in the garden. After that Guy made the little waif a comfortable bed in the basement, and mistress gave her the name of “Daisy,” while Guy named the yellow cat “Buttercup.”

Maple Road down our way was richly blessed with children in those days, so much so that the boys called it “Youngsters’ Boulevard.” And they were all such dear children.

On our right was Charlie Watt, and on our left were the Moody children, Marie, Anita, Madeline and Charlie. On the opposite side of the street were Florence and Lee Harrison, and a little way down the street were our friends Don and Winifred, whose pictures we had often seen above the bookcase.

Often when mistress went over to Winifred’s house, Toddy and I followed her, and we used to play with Winifred and Katy--her dolly. Budge is too bashful to go out in company, so he usually stayed under the porch till we returned. I guess this is why Guy called him the “Home Guard.”

Very often Winifred came to visit us. But she never ran after us nor mauled us around as children are so apt to do. She would sit down on our cushion and wait till we went and sat by her side. This is why we all like her so well. If all children would do this, it would be much more pleasant for us to live with them.

I cannot tell you how much I would like to see Jack and Dennis, but since I have found so many lovely friends in our new home, I don’t miss them as much as I did at first.

XXI

OUR WINGED FRIENDS

We soon discovered that cats and dogs were not our only new neighbors on Maple Road, for one morning early we noticed a pair of robins flitting around the upper piazza. It was plain that they had come to stay for a while at least, for they were building a nest among the vines, and they had it nearly completed. The nest was about half-way between the two posts. If it had only been at the post, we cats could have seen what was inside of it.

Two little red-breasted robins were flying back and forth, fetching all sorts of things in their beaks; straw and strings and moss and grass, which they twined around in the most curious fashion. One would step inside and pat it down with his breast, while the other went after more stuff. At one time one of them brought a black rag, which they both looked at, and chattered over a great deal, but evidently concluded not to use for they dropped it on the ground. Then, in her endeavor to help the robins mistress carried out a loose wad of cut worsted and placed it near the nest, but they did not make use of that either. Evidently they knew what they needed better than anybody else, in the building of their little home.

A day or two after the nest was finished, Guy stepped on a chair and looked inside, and found one little blue egg in it. After this mistress and Guy were very careful not to go on the piazza while the robins were in the nest, for fear they would be frightened, and would desert their eggs.

About three days later Guy looked again into the nest, and saw two eggs in it; and a week later when he looked again, there were four.

After the four eggs were laid, one of the robins stayed on the nest nearly all the time, the other one coming many times during the day, always bringing his mate something to eat. Mistress named them Robert and Rena.

We cats wanted to go out on the piazza the worst way during those days, but the door was always shut.

Sometimes when both robins were away, mistress or Guy would go on the piazza and scatter bread crumbs, but the naughty little sparrows would come and take them away from the robins.

It was very hard for me to be a good cat in those days, especially when mistress would be standing inside the screen door, and Robert on the flower box answering her call. She would say “Pretty Robbie” and he would say, “Take care”--I suppose he meant by that she should take care not to let any harm come to his little mate. But just as soon as mistress opened the door, he would fly on the neighboring roof and scold very hard till she shut the door again.

Sometimes when I sat on the window-sill behind the glass pane, Robert would come just as close to me as he could, talking bird-talk to me. I think he said: “You can’t catch me,” for he seemed to think the screen or the window-pane made the porch railing a very safe place for him.

Robert and Rena seemed to have it all understood between them how their housekeeping was to be managed. Robert continued very faithfully to bring food to Rena, and occasionally she would fly out for a little exercise, Robert staying in the nest till she returned.

After a time we began to hear very queer sounds coming from the piazza, and a great commotion seemed to be going on in the little nest. Tiny beaks could be seen, reaching above the edge, and Papa Robert seemed to be busier than ever. He would bring so much food at a time that the worms and insects could be seen dangling on each side of his beak. Sometimes he gave it to Rena, and she would chew it up and drop a portion into each little beak while he went off for more; and sometimes he would feed the little ones himself.

They say that accidents happen even in the best regulated households, so it’s not surprising that they came near having one in Robert’s family. I was sitting on the window-sill, and Rena was standing on the flower box chatting with mistress who stood just inside the door. The screen door happened to be unfastened and Toddy forced it open without mistress noticing it. So swiftly did he dart upon the flower box, that he nearly toppled over, and poor Rena just barely escaped his claws.

As soon as Rena reached a safe distance in the maple tree, she turned to Toddy and gave him a dreadful scolding. “You ugly cat,” said she, “aren’t you ashamed to think of robbing my poor little babies of their mother? You are more cruel than the horrid huntermen who shoot poor birds with their guns; because they wouldn’t think of coming in babytime.” Toddy was evidently very much ashamed, for he sneaked into the house and went straight to his basket, and didn’t show his face again that day.

If I had had Toddy’s chance of getting out onto the porch, I should have done quite differently. I would have climbed up on the wire netting and the vines to the nest where the little birdies were, because they couldn’t fly away. Oh, what a feast that would have been--four birds, one after the other. It sets my teeth on edge to think of it.

One afternoon, when both the robins happened to be away, mistress went on the piazza to await their return.

Rena came first, and perched on the neighboring housetop, chatting with mistress, although I think it sounded more as if she were scolding. Gradually she came nearer the piazza, and finally perched on the vines opposite the nest. But although her poor little babies cried most piteously, she would not go near them. But when mistress went into the house, hardly had she shut the door, when Rena flew to the nest and began feeding her babies.

That evening a gentleman called upon Aunt Minnie, who was visiting us, and Mistress told him about the queer conduct of Rena.

“That’s easily explained,” said the gentleman: “Robins are noted for concealing their young, although they will build their nests in the most frequented places. If you will take notice after the young are hatched, there will not be a sign of the shells lying around, neither will you find any in the nest after they leave, for they carry them all away.”

“Do you think they will come again next year?” inquired mistress.

“They may if left to themselves, and their nest not tampered with in the meantime,” said the gentleman.

It was not many days before it became evident that the birdies were outgrowing their little home. Before their wings were well covered with feathers, they could be seen stretching them at full length, and fluttering over the nest, and one day when both Robert and Rena were out, Guy teased his mother to let him look into the nest. Mistress consented, so he took a chair out unto the piazza; but unfortunately the screen door slipped from his grasp and closed with a very loud noise. This so frightened the birdies that a regular struggle began in the little nest, and one was forced out over the side. The poor thing spread his little bare wings and tried to fly, but it was a desperate effort, and after fluttering aimlessly about, he finally landed on Buttercup’s porch. Both mistress and Guy went down in great haste to get him, but the little truant would not be caught, and his wings seemed to be gaining strength with every second of exercise. He fluttered across the street, and hovered around on the lawn, till finally Mr. Harrison picked him up and put him in a tree, and there Robert and Rena found him and took care of him. I watched him from the window-sill, and I couldn’t help having some thoughts that are hardly proper for a good cat.

By the time mistress returned to the piazza, every one of the robins had left the nest, and we cats saw them no more.

Mistress gave many anxious sighs during that afternoon, and Guy tried to comfort her as best he could. “If God takes care of the sparrows,” said he, “don’t you suppose He will also take care of the robins?”

Mistress did not speak for some moments, then she said: “Well, my boy, some day you will be leaving your home just as the birdies left theirs to-day, and dangers will surround you. Then my dear, may you lean hard on the Book wherein you read that God takes care of the sparrows.”

I am very glad I have had a chance to get acquainted with the robins, and I hope next spring they will come to us again.

XXII

NEW NEIGHBORS

In the rear of our yard there was a very tall fence post with a flat top, and on it I loved to sit in the sun and watch the chickens in the adjoining yard.

Near the chicken-coop was a kennel wherein lived Napoleon, a black shepherd dog, whom they called “Nap” for short. When I first knew Nap he was chained almost constantly, and often for days at a time he was without food or water. His howls and cries were pitiful, and all the neighbors talked about what an outrage it was to treat a dog so mean. One day our mistress called Nap’s mistress over to the fence and engaged her in a friendly talk, and after a while she asked why Nap was always chained. The lady said it was because her husband considered him a very valuable dog, and did not wish to lose him.

“Have you ever tried to bind him to his home with love and affection?” said mistress. “I have found in my experience with animals that it will forge a chain far stronger than iron.”