You may be interested in hearing of the crafty trick of a black Persian.
Prin is a magnificent animal, but withal a most dainty one, showing
distinct disapproval of any meat not cooked in the especial way he
likes, viz., roast. The cook, of whom he is very fond, determined to
break this bad habit. Stewed or boiled meat was accordingly put ready
for him, but, as he had often done before, he turned from it in disgust.
However, this time no fish or roast was substituted. For three days the
saucer of meat was untouched, and no other food given. But on the fourth
morning the cook was much rejoiced at finding the saucer empty. Prin ran
to meet her, and the good woman told her mistress how extra affectionate
that repentant cat was that morning. He did enjoy his dinner of roast
that day (no doubt served with a double amount of gravy). It was not
till the pot-board under the dresser was cleaned on Saturday that his
artfulness was brought to light. There, in one of the stewpans back of
the others, was the contents of the saucer of stewed meat. There was no
other animal about the place, and the other two servants were as much
astonished as the cook at the clever trick played on them by this
terribly spoiled pet of the house. But the cook was mortified at the
thought of that saucer of roast beef. I know this story to be true, and
I have known the cat for the last nine or ten years. It lives at
Clapham.
I will close this catalogue of feline attractions with two conundrums:
Why does a cat cross the road? Because it wants to get to the other
side. What is that which never was and never will be? A mouse’s nest in
a cat’s ear.