My Dear Helen:
There is one thing that cats don't like any better than men and women
do, and that is to make fools of themselves. But a precious fool I made
of myself when I wrote you that long letter about Mary's moving out all
the furniture, and taking the house down. It is very mortifying to have
to tell you how it all turned out, but I know you love me enough to be
sorry that I should have had such a terrible fright for nothing.
It went on from bad to worse for three more days after I wrote you. Your
mother did not come home; and the awful Irishwoman was here all the
time. I did not dare to go near the house, and I do assure you I nearly
starved: I used to lie under the rose-bushes, and watch as well as I
could what was going on: now and then I caught a rat in the barn, but
that sort of hearty food never has agreed with me since I came to live
with you, and became accustomed to a lighter diet. By the third day I
felt too weak and sick to stir: so I lay still all day on the straw in
Charlie's stall; and I really thought, between the hunger and the
anxiety, that I should die. About noon I heard Mary say in the shed, "I
do believe that everlasting cat has taken herself off: it's a good
riddance anyhow, but I should like to know what has become of the plaguy
thing!"
I trembled all over, for if she had come into the barn I know one kick
from her heavy foot would have killed me, and I was quite too weak to
run away. Towards night I heard your dear mother's voice calling, "Poor
pussy, why, poor pussy, where are you?"
I assure you, my dear Helen, people are very much mistaken who say, as I
have often overheard them, that cats have no feeling. If they could only
know how I felt at that moment, they would change their minds. I was
almost too glad to make a sound. It seemed to me that my feet were
fastened to the floor, and that I never could get to her. She took me up
in her arms, and carried me through the kitchen into the sitting-room.
Mary was frying cakes in the kitchen, and as your mother passed by the
stove she said in her sweet voice, "You see I've found poor pussy,
Mary." "Humph," said Mary, "I never thought but that she'd be found fast
enough when she wanted to be!" I knew that this was a lie, because I had
heard what she said in the shed. I do wish I knew what makes her hate me
so: I only wish she knew how I hate her. I really think I shall gnaw her
stockings and shoes some night. It would not be any more than fair; and
she would never suspect me, there are so many mice in her room, for I
never touch one that I think belongs in her closet.
The sitting-room was all in most beautiful order,--a smooth white
something, like the side of a basket, over the whole floor, a beautiful
paper curtain, pink and white, over the fire-place, and white muslin
curtains at the windows. I stood perfectly still in the middle of the
room for some time. I was too surprised to stir. Oh, how I wished that I
could speak, and tell your dear mother all that had happened, and how
the room had looked three days before. Presently she said, "Poor pussy,
I know you are almost starved, aren't you?" and I said "Yes," as plainly
as I could mew it. Then she brought me a big soup-plate full of thick
cream, and some of the most delicious cold hash I ever tasted; and after
I had eaten it all, she took me in her lap, and said, "Poor pussy, we
miss little Helen, don't we?" and she held me in her lap till bed-time.
Then she let me sleep on the foot of her bed: it was one of the happiest
nights of my life. In the middle of the night I was up for a while, and
caught the smallest mouse I ever saw out of the nest. Such little ones
are very tender.
In the morning I had my breakfast with her in the dining-room, which
looks just as nice as the sitting-room. After breakfast Mrs. Hitchcock
came in, and your mother said: "Only think, how fortunate I am; Mary did
all the house-cleaning while I was away. Every room is in perfect order;
all the woollen clothes are put away for the summer. Poor pussy, here,
was frightened out of the house, and I suppose we should all have been
if we had been at home."
Can you imagine how ashamed I felt? I ran under the table and did not
come out again until after Mrs. Hitchcock had gone. But now comes
the saddest part of my story. Soon after this, as I was looking out of
the window, I saw the fattest, most tempting robin on the ground under
the cherry-tree: the windows did not look as if they had any glass in
them, and I took it for granted that it had all been taken out and put
away upstairs, with the andirons and the carpets, for next winter. I
knew that there was no time to be lost if I meant to catch that robin,
so I ran with all my might and tried to jump through. Oh, my dear Helen,
I do not believe you ever had such a bump: I fell back nearly into the
middle of the room; and it seemed to me that I turned completely over at
least six times. The blood streamed out of my nose, and I cut my right
ear very badly against one of the castors of the table. I could not see
nor hear any thing for some minutes. When I came to myself, I found your
dear mother holding me, and wiping my face with her own nice
handkerchief wet in cold water. My right fore-paw was badly bruised, and
that troubles me very much about washing my face, and about writing. But
the worst of all is the condition of my nose. Everybody laughs who sees
me, and I do not blame them; it is twice as large as it used to be, and
I begin to be seriously afraid it will never return to its old shape.
This will be a dreadful affliction: for who does not know that the nose
is the chief beauty of a cat's face? I have got very tired of hearing
the story of my fall told to all the people who come in. They laugh as
if they would kill themselves at it, especially when I do not manage to
get under the table before they look to see how my nose is.
Except for this I should have written to you before, and would write
more now, but my paw aches badly, and one of my eyes is nearly closed
from the swelling of my nose: so I must say good-by.
Your affectionate Pussy.
P. S. I told you about Caesar, did I not, in my last letter? Of course I
do not venture out of the house in my present plight, so I have not seen
him except from the window.
[Illustration: "Can you imagine how ashamed I felt? I ran under the
table and did not come out again until after Mrs. Hitchcock had
gone."--Page 54.]
[Illustration: "I knew that there was no time to be lost if I meant
to catch that robin, so I ran with all my might and tried to jump
through."--Page 55.]