As you may imagine, I did not get any sleep that night, not even so much
as a cat's nap, as people say, though how cat's naps differ from men's
and women's naps, I don't know. I shivered all night, and it hurt me
terribly whenever I moved. Early in the morning your grandfather came
downstairs, and when he saw how I looked, he swore again, that same
oath: we all know very well what it means when he swears in that way: it
means that he is going to do all he can for you, and is so sorry, that
he is afraid of seeming too sorry. Don't you remember when you had that
big double tooth pulled out, and he gave you five dollars, how he swore
then? Well, he took me up in his arms, and carried me into the
dining-room; it was quite cool; there was a nice wood fire on the
hearth, and Mary was setting the table for breakfast. He said to her in
a very gruff voice, "Here you, Mary, you go up into the garret and
bring down the cradle."
Sick as I was, I could not help laughing at the sight of her face. It
was enough to make any cat laugh.
"You don't ever mean to say, sir, as you're going to put that cat into
the cradle."
"You do as I tell you," said he, in that most awful tone of his, which
always makes you so afraid. I felt afraid myself, though all the time he
was stroking my head, and saying, "Poor pussy, there, poor pussy, lie
still." In a few minutes Mary came down with the cradle, and set it
down by the fire with such a bang that I wondered it did not break. You
know she always bangs things when she is cross, but I never could see
what good it does. Then your grandfather made up a nice bed in the
cradle, out of Charlie's winter blanket and an old pillow, and laid me
down in it, all rolled up as I was in your petticoat. When your mother
came into the room she laughed almost as hard as she did when she saw me
in the soft-soap barrel, and said, "Why, father, you are rather old to
play cat's cradle!" The old gentleman laughed at this, till the tears
ran down his red cheeks. "Well," he said, "I tell you one thing; the
game will last me till that poor cat gets well again." Then he went
upstairs, and brought down a bottle of something very soft and slippery,
like lard, and put it on my eyes, and it made them feel much better.
After that he gave me some milk into which he had put some of his very
best brandy: that was pretty hard to get down, but I understood enough
of what they had said, to be sure that if I did not take something of
the kind I should never get well. After breakfast I tried to walk, but
my right paw was entirely useless. At first they thought it was broken,
but finally decided that it was only sprained, and must be bandaged. The
bandages were wet with something which smelled so badly it made me feel
very sick, for the first day or two. Cats' noses are much more sensitive
to smells than people's are; but I grew used to it, and it did my poor
lame paw so much good that I would have borne it if it had smelled twice
as badly. For three days I had to lie all the time in the cradle: if
your grandfather caught me out of it, he would swear at me, and put me
back again. Every morning he put the soft white stuff on my eyes, and
changed the bandages on my leg. And, oh, my dear Helen, such good things
as I had to eat! I had almost the same things for my dinner that the
rest of them did: it must be a splendid thing to be a man or a woman! I
do not think I shall ever again be contented to eat in the shed, and
have only the old pieces which nobody wants.
Two things troubled me very much while I was confined to the cradle: one
was that everybody who came in to see your mother laughed as if they
never could stop, at the first sight of me; and the other was that I
heard poor Caesar mewing all around the house, and calling me with all
his might; and I knew he thought I was dead. I tried hard to make your
kind mother notice his crying, for I knew she would be willing to let
him come in and see me, but I could not make her understand. I suppose
she thought it was only some common strolling cat who was hungry. I have
always noticed that people do not observe any difference between one
cat's voice and another's; now they really are just as different as
human voices. Caesar has one of the finest, deepest-toned voices I
ever heard. One day, after I got well enough to be in the kitchen, he
slipped in, between the legs of the butcher's boy who was bringing in
some meat; but before I had time to say one word to him, Mary flew at
him with the broom, and drove him out. However, he saw that I was alive,
and that was something. I am afraid it will be some days yet before I
can see him again, for they do not let me go out at all, and the
bandages are not taken off my leg. The cradle is carried upstairs, and I
sleep on Charlie's blanket behind the stove. I heard your mother say
to-day that she really believed the cat had the rheumatism. I do not
know what that is, but I think I have got it: it hurts me all over when
I walk, and I feel as if I looked like Bill Jacobs's old cat, who, they
say, is older than the oldest man in town; but of course that must be a
slander.
The thing I am most concerned about is my fur; it is coming off in
spots: there is a bare spot on the back of my neck, on the place by
which they lifted me up out of the soap barrel, half as large as your
hand; and whenever I wash myself, I get my mouth full of hairs, which
is very disagreeable. I heard your grandfather say to-day, that he
believed he would try Mrs. Somebody's Hair Restorer on the cat, at which
everybody laughed so that ran out of the room as fast as I could go, and
then they laughed still harder. I will write you again in a day or two,
and tell you how I am getting on. I hope you will come home soon.
Your affectionate Pussy.
[Illustration: "Then your grandfather made up a nice bed in the
cradle, and laid me down in it."--Page 76.]
[Illustration: "One day he slipped in between the legs of the
butcher boy, but before I had time to say a word to him, Mary flew
at him with the broom."--Page 81.]