When Araminta said that I must speak to the man next door about his
black cat, I was greatly perturbed. It appeared that the animal had
acquired the habit of spending the night in our house, and that Harriet
didn't like it. I said that black cats brought good luck, and, anyhow,
by night all cats were grey. Araminta replied that this one was as black
as a bilberry and took fish. Walking out into the garden I began to
meditate deeply.
Perhaps you do not immediately grasp what a terrible and dangerous thing
it was that Araminta had requested me to do. Between next door
neighbours in the area of Greater London there subsist relations of an
infinite delicacy. They resemble the bloom upon a peach. They combine a
sense of mutual confidence and esteem with absolute determination not to
let it get any further. Mr. Trumpington (Harriet vouched for his name)
and myself were certainly acquainted. In a sense you may even say we
were friends. If I happened to be murdered or assaulted by a footpad
there was not the smallest reason to suppose that Mr. Trumpington would
refrain from giving the police every assistance in identifying the
criminal. Similarly, if Mr. Trumpington's house caught fire, it was
certain that I should be one of the first to offer him the loan of our
garden syringe.
As things were, what happened was this. Twice or thrice a week we nodded
pleasantly to each other over the wall that divided our demesnes,
through the interstices of our respective hollyhocks; once, only once,
in a mad burst of irresponsible gaiety, Mr. Trumpington had gone so far
as to murmur, "Good aft-" to me, and I had responded effusively,
"-ernoon."
And now all this atmosphere of quiet sociableness was about to be
destroyed through the paltry misdemeanours of a subfuse cat. For I had
not the smallest doubt as to what would happen. Mr. Trumpington was a
mild amiable-looking man. There was not the faintest prospect of his
flying into a rage. He would not say, "What right have you to interfere
with the private affairs of another man's domesticated fauna?" He would
not ask me why I had inveigled his beautiful black cat on to my
poisonous premises. No, we should talk together reasonably, amicably,
and as man to man. Mr. Trumpington would promise to do all he could to
give his cat pleasant, cheerful evenings at home, and I should agree
that it was very hard to prevent a young cat from wanting to see a bit
of life. "Cats," we should say, nodding our heads wisely, "will be
cats."
And then from cats we should pass on to dogs, to sport, to politics, to
business, to heaven knows what. And the next day we should be compelled
to pick up our conversation where we had dropped it. We should discuss
our gardens and our family affairs. Things would go from bad to worse.
All our privacy and peace would disappear. We might almost as well break
down the wall that divided us at once. Possibly (thought of horror) his
wife would call on Araminta....
Still pondering ruefully, I turned round at the bottom of the garden
path, and behold, sitting on the party-wall between Mr. Trumpington's
garden and mine, was the debateable cat. An impulse of murderous rage
possessed me. I took an old golf-ball from my pocket and hurled it as
hard as I could at the potential destroyer of my peace. The black cat
was no sportsman. It dodged, and disappeared hastily on the Trumpington
side. At the same moment from behind a large clump of hollyhocks I heard
the sudden cry of a strong man in pain, followed by a stilled oath. I
squatted down instantly behind a thick rosebush; then, rising to peer
cautiously, I saw a most painful sight. I saw the horrible
transformation which may be caused in the features of an ordinary and
amiable man by an access of sudden rage and the impact of a brambled
golf-ball on the end of the nose. I squatted again.
"Confound the infernal fool! Who did that?" said the face of Mr.
Trumpington, looking through the hollyhock peepholes, the buds of which
rapidly began to turn from a lightish pink to deep rose.
It is always a more dignified policy to ignore a man in a temper, so it
was not until about ten minutes had elapsed, and silence reigned, that I
crawled painfully away into safety.
About five minutes later a note was brought round by hand from next
door. It ran as follows:--
"Mr. Trumpington will feel greatly obliged if Mr. Brown will prevent his
black cat from constantly straying upon his, Mr. Trumpington's,
flower-beds. He also requests that when Mr. Brown wishes to persecute
his black cat he should not do so when the animal is sitting on Mr.
Trumpington's wall, as this practice is attended with considerable risk
to Mr. Trumpington's life and limbs."