Jap Malee was as disreputable a little Cockney bantam as ever sold
cheap Canary-birds in a cellar. He was extremely poor, and the negro
lived with him because the 'Henglish-man' was willing to share bed and
board, and otherwise admit a perfect equality that few Americans
conceded. Jap was perfectly honest according to his lights, but he
hadn't any lights; and it was well known that his chief revenue was
derived from storing and restoring stolen Dogs and Cats. The half-dozen
Canaries were mere blinds. Yet Jap believed in himself. "Hi tell you,
Sammy, me boy, you'll see me with 'orses of my own yet," he would say,
when some trifling success inflated his dirty little chest. He was not
without ambition, in a weak, flabby, once-in-a-while way, and he
sometimes wished to be known as a fancier. Indeed, he had once gone the
wild length of offering a Cat for exhibition at the Knickerbocker High
Society Cat and Pet Show, with three not over-clear objects: first, to
gratify his ambition; second, to secure the exhibitor's free pass; and,
third, "well, you kneow, one 'as to kneow the valuable Cats, you kneow,
when one goes a-catting." But this was a society show, the exhibitor
had to be introduced, and his miserable alleged half-Persian was
scornfully rejected. The 'Lost and Found' columns of the papers were
the only ones of interest to Jap, but he had noticed and saved a
clipping about 'breeding for fur.' This was stuck on the wall of his
den, and under its influence he set about what seemed a cruel
experiment with the Slum Cat. First, he soaked her dirty fur with stuff
to kill the two or three kinds of creepers she wore; and, when it had
done its work, he washed her thoroughly in soap and warm water, in
spite of her teeth, claws, and yowls. Kitty was savagely indignant, but
a warm and happy glow spread over her as she dried off in a cage near
the stove, and her fur began to fluff out with wonderful softness and
whiteness. Jap and his assistant were much pleased with the result, and
Kitty ought to have been. But this was preparatory: now for the
experiment. "Nothing is so good for growing fur as plenty of oily food
and continued exposure to cold weather," said the clipping. Winter was
at hand, and Jap Malee put Kitty's cage out in the yard, protected only
from the rain and the direct wind, and fed her with all the oil-cake
and fish-heads she could eat. In a week a change began to show. She was
rapidly getting fat and sleek--she had nothing to do but get fat and
dress her fur. Her cage was kept clean, and nature responded to the
chill weather and the oily food by making Kitty's coat thicker and
glossier every day, so that by midwinter she was an unusually beautiful
Cat in the fullest and finest of fur, with markings that were at least
a rarity. Jap was much pleased with the result of the experiment, and
as a very little success had a wonderful effect on him, he began to
dream of the paths of glory. Why not send the Slum Cat to the show now
coming on? The failure of the year before made him more careful as to
details. "'T won't do, ye kneow, Sammy, to henter 'er as a tramp Cat,
ye kneow," he observed to his help; "but it kin be arranged to suit the
Knickerbockers. Nothink like a good noime, ye kneow. Ye see now it had
orter be 'Royal' somethink or other--nothink goes with the
Knickerbockers like 'Royal' anythink. Now 'Royal Dick,' or 'Royal Sam,'
'ow's that? But 'owld on; them's Tom names. Oi say, Sammy, wot's the
noime of that island where ye wuz born?"
"Analostan Island, sah, was my native vicinity, sah."
"Oi say, now, that's good, ye kneow. 'Royal Analostan,' by Jove! The
onliest pedigreed 'Royal Analostan' in the 'ole sheow, ye kneow. Ain't
that foine?" and they mingled their cackles.
"But we'll 'ave to 'ave a pedigree, ye kneow." So a very long fake
pedigree on the recognized lines was prepared. One dark afternoon Sam,
in a borrowed silk hat, delivered the Cat and the pedigree at the show
door. The darkey did the honors. He had been a Sixth Avenue barber, and
he could put on more pomp and lofty hauteur in five minutes than Jap
Malee could have displayed in a lifetime, and this, doubtless, was one
reason for the respectful reception awarded the Royal Analostan at the
Cat Show.
Jap was very proud to be an exhibitor; but he had all a Cockney's
reverence for the upper class, and when on the opening day he went to
the door, he was overpowered to see the array of carriages and silk
hats. The gate-man looked at him sharply, but passed him on his ticket,
doubtless taking him for stable-boy to some exhibitor. The hall had
velvet carpets before the long rows of cages. Jap, in his small
cunning, was sneaking down the side rows, glancing at the Cats of all
kinds, noting the blue ribbons and the reds, peering about but not
daring to ask for his own exhibit, inly trembling to think what the
gorgeous gathering of fashion would say if they discovered the trick he
was playing on them. He had passed all around the outer aisles and seen
many prize-winners, but no sign of Slum Kitty. The inner aisles were
more crowded. He picked his way down them, but still no Kitty, and he
decided that it was a mistake; the judges had rejected the Cat later.
Never mind; he had his exhibitor's ticket, and now knew where several
valuable Persians and Angoras were to be found.
In the middle of the centre aisle were the high-class Cats. A great
throng was there. The passage was roped, and two policemen were in
place to keep the crowd moving. Jap wriggled in among them; he was too
short to see over, and though the richly gowned folks shrunk from his
shabby old clothes, he could not get near; but he gathered from the
remarks that the gem of the show was there.
"Oh, isn't she a beauty!" said one tall woman.
"What distinction!" was the reply.
"One cannot mistake the air that comes only from ages of the most
refined surroundings."
"How I should like to own that superb creature!"
"Such dignity--such repose!"
"She has an authentic pedigree nearly back to the Pharaohs, I hear";
and poor, dirty little Jap marvelled at his own cheek in sending his
Slum Cat into such company.
"Excuse me, madame." The director of the show now appeared, edging his
way through the crowd. "The artist of the 'sporting Element' is here,
under orders to sketch the 'pearl of the show' for immediate use. May I
ask you to stand a little aside? That's it; thank you.
"Oh, Mr. Director, cannot you persuade him to sell that beautiful
creature?"
"Hm, I don't know," was the reply. "I understand he is a man of ample
means and not at all approachable; but I'll try, I'll try, madame. He
was quite unwilling to exhibit his treasure at all, so I understand
from his butler. Here, you, keep out of the way," growled the director,
as the shabby little man eagerly pushed between the artist and the
blue-blooded Cat. But the disreputable one wanted to know where
valuable Cats were to be found. He came near enough to get a glimpse of
the cage, and there read a placard which announced that "The blue
ribbon and gold medal of the Knickerbocker High Society Cat and Pet
Show" had been awarded to the "thoroughbred, pedigreed Royal Analostan,
imported and exhibited by J. Malee, Esq., the well-known fancier. (Not
for sale.)" Jap caught his breath and stared again. Yes, surely; there,
high in a gilded cage, on velvet cushions, with four policemen for
guards, her fur bright black and pale gray, her bluish eyes slightly
closed, was his Slum Kitty, looking the picture of a Cat bored to death
with a lot of fuss that she likes as little as she understands it.