MY mother was the best of cats. She washed us kittens all over every
morning, and at odd times during the day she would wash little bits of
us, say an ear, or a paw, or a tail-tip, and she was very anxious about
our education. I am afraid I gave her a great deal of trouble, for I was
rather stout and heavy, and did not take a very active or graceful part
in the exercises which she thought good for us.
Our gymnasium was the kitchen hearth-rug. There was always a good fire
in the grate, and it seemed to me so much better to go to sleep in
front of it than to run round after my own tail, or even my mother's,
though, of course, that was a great honour.
As for running after the reel of cotton when the cook dropped it, or
playing with the tassel of the blind-cord, or pretending that there were
mice inside the paper bag which I knew to be empty, I confess that I had
no heart or imagination for these diversions.
"Of course, you know best, mother," I used to say; "but it does seem to
me a dreadful waste of time. We might be much better employed."
"How better employed?" asked my mother severely.
"Why," I answered, "in eating or sleeping."
At first my mother used to box my ears, and insist on my learning such
little accomplishments as she thought necessary for my station in life.
"You see," she would say, "all this playing with tails and reels and
balls of worsted is a preparation for the real business of life."
"What is that?" asked my sister.
"Mouse-catching," said my mother very earnestly.
"There are no mice here," I said, stretching myself.
"No, but you will not always be here; and if you practise the little
tricks I show you now with the ball of worsted and the tips of our
tails, then, when the great hour comes, and a career is open to you, and
you see before you the glorious prize--the MOUSE--you will be quick
enough and clever enough to satisfy the highest needs of your nature."
"And supposing we don't play with our tails and the balls of worsted?" I
said.
"Then," said my mother bitterly, "you may as well lie down for the mice
to, run over you."
Thus at first she used to try to show me how foolish it was to think of
nothing but eating and sleeping; but after a while she turned all her
attention to teaching my brother and sister, and they were apt pupils.
They despised nothing small enough to be moved by their paws, which
could give them an opportunity of practising. They did not mind making
themselves ridiculous--a thing which has been always impossible with me.
I have seen Tabby, my sister, in the garden, playing with dead leaves,
as excited and pleased as though they had been the birds which she
foolishly pretended that they were.
I thought her very silly then, but I lived to wish that I had taken half
as much trouble with my lessons as she did with hers. My mother was very
pleased with her, especially after she caught the starlings. This was a
piece of cleverness which my sister invented and carried through
entirely out of her own head. She made friends with one of the cows at
the farm near us, and used to go into the cowhouse and jump on the cow's
back. Then when the cow was sent out into the field to get her grassy
breakfast, my sister used to go with her, riding on her back.
Now birds are always very much on the look-out for cats, and, if they
can help it, never allow one of us to come within half-a-dozen yards of
them without taking to those silly wings of theirs. I never could see
why birds should have wings--so unnecessary.
But birds are not afraid of cows, for cows are very poor sportsmen, and
never care to kill and eat anything.
Now the back of a cow is the last place where you would think of looking
for a cat; so when the starlings saw the cow coming, they didn't think
it worth while to use their wings, and when the cow was quite close to
the birds--beautiful, fat, delightful birds--- my sister used to pick
out with her eye the fattest starling, and then leap suddenly from the
cow's back on to her prey. She never missed.
"I have never known," said my poor mother with tears of pride in her
green eyes--"I have never known a cat do anything so clever."
"It's all your doing, mother dear," said my sister prettily; "if you
hadn't taught me so well when I was little, I should never have thought
of it." And they kissed each other affectionately.