As I said to John, I can bear anger and sarcasm--but contempt, not. Binny
and Joe are our cats, and the most pampered of pets. Every day, when our
meals were served, there was spread upon the carpet a newspaper, on which
Binny and Joe would trample, clamouring, until a plate containing their
substantial portion was laid down: after which we were free to proceed with
our own meal.
Then came the paralysing shock of Lord DEVONPORT'S ration announcement, in
which no mention is made of cats. Binny and Joe looked at one another in
consternation over their porridge as I read aloud his statement from the
newspaper at breakfast.
When I came in to luncheon I had a letter in my hand and accidentally
dropped the envelope. Paper of any kind upon the carpet is associated in
Binny's mind with the advent of food. Straightway he thudded from his
arm-chair and sat down upon the envelope. You will notice that I speak
above of Binny and Joe. I do so instinctively, because, though Binny is
only half Joe's age of one year, somehow he always occurs everywhere before
Joe. Joe was lying on the same arm-chair, and the same idea struck him too;
but Binny got there first and continued sitting on the envelope, until, for
very shame, I asked Ann, the maid, to spread a newspaper and try them with
potato and gravy. They looked at it and then at me, and then, without
tasting, walked off and began their usual after-luncheon ablutions of
mouth, face and paws. But, as I have said, I can endure sarcasm.
The next day, just before luncheon, a mass of sparrow feathers was found on
the hall-mat. The second day there were feathers of a blackbird. And the
third day, when I came down to breakfast, I found a few thrush feathers
carelessly left under the breakfast-room table. I began to search my mind,
anxiously wondering whether any of my near neighbours kept chickens.
But the matter was settled that night. When the dinner-gong sounded, Binny
and Joe rose from their arm-chair, looked at the vegetarian dishes now
adorning a board which had been wont to send up savoury meaty steams (fish
in these parts has become a rarity almost unprocurable, and we had
exhausted our allowance of meat at luncheon, which we had taken at a
restaurant), and then, with noses in the air and tails erect, stalked
haughtily to the drawing-room, and there remained until dinner was
finished.
So now the butcher leaves two pennorth of lights at my door regularly. He
assures me that Lord DEVONPORT won't mind as it is not strictly human food.
* * * * *
[Illustration: THE INVADERS.
"I SUPPOSE OLD HINDENBURG KNOWS WHAT HE'S ABOUT?"
"ANYHOW, EVERY STEP TAKES US NEARER THE FATHERLAND."]
* * * * *