Part 9

In telling this incident I hope I shall not set any one to thinking that kittens would make suitable ornaments instead of the poor unhappy birds that do such melancholy duty on some ladies’ hats.

Thus for many weeks I devoted myself so constantly to my little ones that mistress called me “the good little mother.”

XXV

BREAKING HOME TIES

It was with the greatest pleasure that I gave myself to the care of my babies; and oh, with what pride I watched their progress from day to day, and how very happy I felt when at my call they would cease their playing and come and rest on my bosom. But, sad to tell, to every mother there comes a cruel and relentless day, when her darlings are taken from her. When that day has come and she mourns in her loneliness and sorrow, her only comfort then is the thought that she has so trained her little ones that they will be a pleasure and a joy to the people with whom they live. I know that this is what my dear mother endeavored to do for me, and the same I tried to do for mine.

My kitties were about three months old, when one day Miss Dorothy called. Mistress called her “Mrs. Fogg,” but to me she will ever be only my dear Miss Dorothy.

She had a bunch of delicious English violets at her waist, and as she held me on her lap I became so intoxicated with their fragrance that unwittingly I bit off a few of them. When Miss Dorothy discovered that I liked them she gave me the whole bunch, and, oh! what a feast! They were the first I had had since Aunt Minnie visited us; and by the way I must tell you about that. We cats are very glad when Aunt Minnie comes, because then somebody always sends such beautiful flowers to the house. The last time they happened to be English violets, and, of course, we went up to the vase to look at them and to smell of them. Such beautiful violets! Their fragrance filled the entire room.

After dinner when Guy and Aunt Minnie came into the library, I heard her say “What’s the matter with these violets? Nothing is left of them but the bare stems.”

“I’ll be jiggered,” said Guy. “I don’t know where you’ll find them unless it’s inside of those cats.” Just then the door bell rang and Aunt Minnie’s friend came in. When they told him about the sad fate of the violets he laughed heartily, and said they would stop and get some more on the way to the concert. So I fear that the violets were not intended for our dinner.

But to return to Miss Dorothy; it was a beautiful day, and mistress brought her into the garden where my kittens were gathered around their big saucer. As each one finished he sat down and gave himself a good washing. Then they gave a quite noteworthy performance of acrobatic skill on the gym: some taking possession of the horizontal bar, while others scaled the walls, or ran a race on the edge.

I think I was the only one in the entire company that was not perfectly happy that afternoon, for I half-suspected what Miss Dorothy had come for. She carried a very suspicious looking basket with a cover on it; and sure enough, when she prepared to take leave, mistress picked up my two little tigers and carried them into the house, and in a few minutes I heard the carriage roll away. That was the last I saw of my little tigers. Oh, how my heart ached; and yet I knew perfectly well what a happy home they would have. What must a mother’s feelings be who has to see her babies taken away from her without this blessed assurance?

It was not long after Miss Dorothy’s visit, when late one evening I missed Topsy, and Jasper one of the Maltese. After searching for them in every place I could think of, I finally gave up in despair; but on the following morning I heard a very familiar sound coming from the next yard. I mounted the fence, and looking over there I saw my kittens basking in the sunshine on a big rug in Mrs. Moody’s yard. My first thought was to go and fetch them back; but the fence was very high, and the kittens were quite heavy; I had to give it up. There was one thing that worried me: Mrs. Moody’s dog Jip is a very saucy fellow; I did not know how he would treat my babies, and I kept a pretty close watch on him. But one day I saw him lying on the rug with Topsy between his paws, and Jasper on his shoulders, and after that I could no longer entertain any unkind thoughts of Jip.

A few days after this, Teddy called with his little sister Dorothy, a sweet little girl with beautiful flaxen curls. They played with my kittens for a long time, telling each other which they liked best; and as they had brought a big covered basket with them I rather surmised what they had come for. In fact I have learned to heartily dislike people who go around carrying covered baskets. But I knew that I could not keep my babies much longer, so I just tried to be brave, and resigned to my fate. Teddy said he liked the black one, but Dorothy preferred the Maltese.

“What are you going to call them, Teddy?” said mistress.

“I shall call them Punch and Judy, or some names that fit together like that,” answered Teddy.

“But how will it be next summer, when you go to the Lake Shore?”

“We will have some one take care of them while we are gone,” said Dorothy.

This satisfied mistress, and she told them they could have the kittens.

Then I went out to see if I couldn’t find another mousie for them, and after long waiting at a neighboring ash pile I finally captured one, and I hastened to bring my babies this last offering. But when I reached the garden I found my basket empty, and the old comfortable that had been our rallying place, deserted. The dreaded hour had come; I was a broken-hearted mother, bereft of all my little ones. I cared nothing more for the mousie so I let it go. Of course, I cried, and searched every nook and corner on the premises before giving up my last hope. When at last I entered the house, mistress took me up very tenderly and spoke comforting words to me, and that night for the first time in many weeks I slept again at the foot of her bed.

XXVI

A FRIENDLY CHAT

Budge has a habit of sitting on all fours with his paws curled under, his tail drawn tightly around his body, and his eyes half closed; and whenever Guy sees him in that position he says “behold the Sphinx.”

One summer evening when we three were out on the piazza, I asked Budge what his thoughts were on such occasions. “Generally about dogs,” said he. “I have been trying for a long time to think what dogs are good for anyhow, and as I can’t think of a single thing, I wonder why there should be any dogs in the world at all.”

I told Budge he must not judge all dogs by these saucy curs that come into our yard to eat up our dinner and bark at us. Said I: “Have you never heard of Owney, the Postal dog, that has traveled all over this country, bringing joy and good cheer to the hearts of the poor toiling men that work on the cars? Or of Mose, that lived for many years in an engine-house, and attended every fire, cheering on the horses and the men, and no doubt helping to save many lives? Or of Barri, the noble St. Bernard, that saved the lives of more than forty travelers who were buried beneath the snow? Or, have you forgotten our dear friend Dennis, that used to protect us from the attacks of fierce dogs when we were small kittens on Poplar Avenue?”

“I never heard of Mose or Owney or Barri,” said Budge. “I wish you would tell us more about them.”

“Well,” said I, “those were high-minded and noble animals, and useful in their day and generation.”

“That’s just what I want to be too,” said Budge.

“And so do I,” said Toddy. “But aren’t there any noble and useful cats in the world?”

“Yes,” said I: “I can mention the names of cats as well as dogs for your example: Toots Willard, for instance, who contributed over $20.00 towards the temperance cause from the sale of his photographs, and who writes letters to the Union Signal, urging and encouraging his comrades to support the good work; Meow, my namesake, who was such a joy and comfort to grandpa for seven years; and Blackie and Jack, the famous rat-catchers.”

“Now that you mention it,” said Budge, “I am reminded that there are many useful and valuable cats who have not even a name to be remembered by. Only a few days ago a lady who works in a commission house, told our mistress that they have fourteen cats in their place, and that indeed without them they could not carry on their business, for the rats and mice would ruin everything if the cats didn’t drive them away.” Here Toddy took the word:

“This reminds me,” said he, “of a story I once heard about a man who owned a warehouse, and who had four sons. In the warehouse lived a big Maltese cat named Jimmie, whose favorite resting-place was on top of the bookkeeper’s desk, where he was wont to take his daily nap. In course of time the father died, and the four sons divided the warehouse between them. They also divided the cat so that each one knew which quarter of Jimmie belonged to him. One day soon after the division the cat was bitten in the right foreleg by a rat he had caught, and as that quarter of the cat belonged to Paul, the youngest son, he bandaged it and saturated the bandage with coal oil to take out the pain. That day when Jimmie was napping on the desk as usual, the bookkeeper laid down a lighted cigar which rolled over toward Jimmie and ignited the bandage. In an instant the poor creature was enveloped in flames, and in his terrible anguish and fright he ran up and down the warehouse, so that it was set on fire, causing great damage. When all was over the brothers had a meeting, and the three agreed that as Paul’s quarter of the cat had done the damage, he ought to pay them for their loss. This Paul refused to do, and as they could not agree, the four brothers then went before a judge; and how do you suppose the judge settled it? He said it was Jimmie’s three well legs that had enabled him to run around the warehouse and scatter the fire, and not his sore one at all. And so instead of Paul paying his brothers for their loss, they had to pay Paul for his. As for poor Jimmie, he died at his post of duty a victim to man’s heedlessness.”

Another brave cat did service on the Battleship Texas in Santiago Bay, and I heard mistress read one evening how he stayed on the deck with the soldiers while the Spanish bullets went whizzing around him, and when every dog had gone whining and howling down to the bottom of the ship.

On the same occasion mistress read another piece which she cut out, saying it would be a good thing for my story. It said:

“The largest student lodging house in Ithaca burned last night. Mrs. Stilwell, the boarding-house mistress, stated this morning that she believes her life and the lives of all the occupants were saved by a favorite cat which went mewing up and down the halls. She awoke and spoke in a quieting tone to the pet, but it would not remain quiet and came into her room and pulled with its claws on the bedclothes until she got up.”

Said I “All this only goes to prove that no matter where you put a cat, whether on land or sea, amid peril or safety, if given a fair chance he will always fearlessly and honestly do his part.”

“Yes,” said Budge, taking on his sphinx-like attitude, “and what a pity these last mentioned heroes didn’t have names, so their memory could be honored and cherished by future generations of cats. But I am thankful we have such a wise cat as you for a companion, and I for one shall try and be a better and more useful cat hereafter.”

“I have already begun,” said Toddy: “don’t you remember, Budge, the other day when you did something very naughty in mistress’ room, I called you to me on the window-sill and covered myself over you so mistress could not find you? And when she came in, she was so touched by my effort to shield you from disgrace, that she did not punish you?”

“Yes,” said Budge, “and I helped you whip Pug, when he came into Mrs. Watt’s yard?”

“You have both made a very good beginning,” said I, “and if you keep on you will both leave a good example for other cats to be proud of, just as we take pride in these we have talked about.”

And now, although we are never even mentioned in the books of the proud and highly favored Angoras, still I will return good for evil and relate here an incident which I heard mistress read in a newspaper, of the valor of an Angora.

“I shook the paw of a remarkable Angora cat at the veterinary hospital the other day. He was there to recover from an attack of influenza, and looked thin and gaunt, although his yellow tail was as erect and as bushy as ever. It seems this feline is devoted to a little poodle that is his constant companion. Twice the poodle’s life has been endangered by big dogs, and in each instance this otherwise gentle cat has flown upon the foe and killed him. One would scarcely believe this gracious yellow creature was the slayer of two fierce bulldogs, but such is his record.”

XXVII

ANOTHER HOME

One day soon after Brownie’s death Dorothy and Teddy came over with Judy, their little Maltese kitty, all nicely cuddled up in a covered basket, and asked mistress if she would keep her till they returned from the Lake Shore.

“You know we promised to have some one take care of the kittens during our vacation,” said Dorothy, “and we couldn’t think of anybody that would do it better than you.”

Mistress seemed very much pleased at this. She praised the children for remembering their promise so well and told them that Judy might stay. Then she added, “But who is going to take care of Punch?”

“We intend to take him along,” said Teddy; “we would take Judy too, but mamma thinks two cats will be too much trouble.”

“Oh, no,” said mistress, “you must either take both, or leave both. If they are separated so long they will become estranged, and then they will no longer live together peaceably.”

“Then you will have to keep Punch, too,” said Dorothy.

“Rather than have them separated, I will do so,” said mistress, “but you must bring their basket and cushions, so they will have some familiar objects to attract them to this place.”

So Teddy went home and fetched Punch and the cat furniture, and while he was gone I had a little chat with Judy. She did not remember me at first, and acted quite saucy for a while. But when I told her that I was her mother, and how I had nursed her and Punch, and raised them to be the handsome cats they were, she snuggled up to me and said, “Oh, yes; now I remember: you used to wash us, and bring us mousies to play with; and I remember also the beautiful lullaby you used to sing to us:

Rockaby, hushaby, Pussy, my dear, The dogs are all chained and there’s nothing to fear!

“Oh, how we did want our dear mother that first night in our new home! We just cried and cried till we finally dropped asleep.”

When Teddy returned, mistress fixed up a cozy corner for our little summer boarders, as she called Punch and Judy, in the kitchen.

That same evening the landlord called on mistress, and I heard him talk in a very upbraiding way about so many cats on his premises; and finally he said in a lofty and scornful tone: “You must either get rid of them, or leave the house.”

On the very next evening the trunks and boxes were brought down from the attic, and mistress and Guy started to packing as if they were going on another journey.

One morning a few days later we cats were all taken to the attic, where we stayed for a long time.

I was just raising another family, and I wondered what was going to be done with me. But soon after lunch time mistress came with a large covered wicker basket into which she put me with my kittens on a nice soft pad. Peeping through the cracks of the basket I could see her put Toddy, Punch and Judy into the laundry bag, and when we were all fixed up Guy came to fetch us down-stairs. There I discovered the moving van, all loaded, and Guy, who is very strong, mounted the wagon with us. Budge had the honor of riding a-wheel with mistress, tied securely into the Switzerland bag.

And now methinks I hear some of you say “but what became of poor sickly Daisy, and homeless Bunny?” I am happy to tell you that before we left our old home both were cared for; Daisy with her little kitty went to the beautiful and happy land where sickness never comes, and where there is a home for every cat; and Bunny and her kittens were all provided with good homes through the kindness of their friends Don and Teddy.

It was a very short ride on the moving van to our new home, and when we halted it was in front of a beautiful white cottage with a spacious vine-covered porch. Mistress met us at the door, and we were taken into a quiet room where we found some salmon already prepared for us on our own plate. Budge was there, too, acting rather shy, and going around smelling of everything with his mouth wide open. But presently Guy brought our pads and cushions from off the wagon and fixed up a comfortable place for me and my babies first, and then for the other cats.

For a time it was very noisy down below, and Punch and Judy were terribly afraid; but after a while Guy came up and took us outdoors and showed us all around. The moving van had gone, and mistress was putting the things in order. Looking across the back fence I saw a big corn-field, and some vacant lots, so I knew we should not lack for play-room; and indeed we soon found that the corn-field was an admirable place for a game of hide-and-go-seek.

When we returned into the house mistress had fitted up three nice comfortable corners for us in the kitchen, one for Punch and Judy, one for Budge and Toddy, and a nice big one for me and my babies. In the library there was a window-seat just like the one we had had on Poplar Avenue.

On the same day a young lady came whom mistress called Bettie. We thought at first she was a visitor, because she was so kind and gentle to us cats. But we soon learned that she was the housekeeper.

I have heard it said that the reason so many people leave their cats behind when they move into another house is because they believe it brings bad luck to move one.

It don’t seem to be so with our mistress; for each time she has moved so far as I know she has taken with her to the new house from three to seven cats, and each time it has been to a finer and bigger house than she had before. And now we even have a housekeeper. I should think it is more likely to be the other way: bad luck comes to people who cruelly desert helpless and dependent creatures and leave them unprovided for.

On the other hand, the notion prevails among some people, as I have heard, that it is good luck to have a cat follow you. Of course, it may be presuming too much for a cat to give her opinion so freely; but it seems to me that this good luck will only come to people who will take a kind interest in a poor stray, and who will try to find out where she belongs, or else procure another home for her.

Our new house was on Elmwood Place, and we found to our great delight that our next door neighbors were Miss Wallace, and her little Nellie that she told us about that day on the boat. Nellie is a white cat, but why this should make her think she is any better than we colored cats, I cannot understand. She would sit for hours on her window-sill, and hump her back and hiss every time one of us came in sight; so we very soon concluded that as for Nellie we wouldn’t waste any time trying to be neighborly.

[Illustration: “TODDY, MRS. SMITH’S PARTICULAR FRIEND”]

Our neighbor on the other side is a little King Charles spaniel “Bosie,” which is short for Bo-Peep. If we happened to be out when he took his exercise he would nearly bark himself hoarse. But we soon gave him to understand that he was not big enough to scare us.

Across the street at Mrs. Smith’s lived “Patsy,” a water spaniel, who always came over at meal-time. If he had not been sold and taken away I dare say mistress would have been obliged to change the location of our dinner plate, for Patsy’s nose would almost cover the entire dish, and when he had eaten all he wanted there never was a mouthful left. Still we were sorry to lose Patsy, for he was more like dear old Dennis than any dog I have ever seen.

After Patsy went away, Toddy became Mrs. Smith’s particular friend. He told me he liked it over there because of the beautiful porch, with its plants and rugs and cushions; and also because Mrs. Smith was always there; whereas our own house seemed to be deserted all day long.