morning, that I looked like “Meow,” and it dawned upon me why I was
given that name. And having become acquainted with grandpa I was glad
to be named after an animal that had given him so much pleasure, and I
was more determined than ever to be a good and useful cat. That’s why
I never beg when I sit at the table, and very often when mistress has
finished I jump from my chair up to her shoulder and kiss her cheek.
Sometimes I can hardly wait till she gets through.
But I am very sorry that Meow left grandpa in such a hasty manner, and
no doubt the good old man thought she was a poor homeless cat until he
heard of her death. I would not be afraid at any place to which Guy or
mistress might take me, as long as they were with me.
Having heard the history of Meow, my namesake, Aunt Minnie wanted to
know what had become of Old Blackie.
“Old Blackie,” said mistress, “came to a very sad end. During my
absence I had my milkman leave milk for her every day, and my butcher
brought her meat regularly; I also left a dozen cans of salmon so that
Blackie and her kittens could have one every week. After we had been
gone about two months, the little girl wrote that Blackie had died, and
that she had found homes for all the kittens but one, which she would
like to keep herself. Upon my return home I learned that Blackie’s
death was due to gangrene poisoning, caused by eating salmon that had
been left in the can after opening.”
“This is a very sad ending to a most interesting story,” said Aunt
Minnie; and I thought so too. I think we cats ought all to feel
very grateful to Old Blackie, because it was she that got mistress
interested in cats again, after she had been so long a time without
any, and in this I am sure Blackie did all cats a great service.
XVI
MY GREAT SORROW
One evening when we cats had had our usual frolic in the library and
bedtime was drawing near, I went to the door, as usual, and gave
mistress the look which told her that I wanted to go out. She opened
the door in the kindest manner, and as it was a beautiful moonlight
night I mounted the fence and went over to Jack’s house, for I had
something very important to tell him. I had heard Guy tell mistress
that very evening not to let us stay out much evenings, because he had
been told that it was the fashion in schools and colleges to dissect
cats, so they can see how we are put together. He said that one of the
boys had told him that they just go out nights and get any cats they
can catch, or that will come to them; and that the majority of cats
gathered up in this way are somebody’s pets because they are so much
more tame than others, and more easily caught.
When I told this to Jack, it made him very indignant. “The idea of
such an outrage perpetrated on us poor unsuspecting cats,” said he.
“Where is the Humane Agent? Why don’t he arrest the thieves?”
I told Jack that from what I had heard, one might steal all the cats
in Christendom, except the highly favored Angoras and Persians, and he
could not be arrested, because the law does not protect cats.
When Jack heard this he could hardly contain himself for anger, and
he invited me to go over to his yard and sit on the bench with him,
where we could talk the matter over quietly. But just then his mistress
called him, and being a very obedient cat, he went right into the
house. I went over toward my poplar tree, and as I neared my house I
heard my mistress calling me also. But it was such a pleasant evening,
the moonlight was so beautiful and the stars shone so brightly, I
really could not bear the thought of going in. Even the whetting of the
carving knife did not tempt me, and I did not heed my dear mistress’
call. It seems as though I could hear even now that tender voice
falling softly on the night air: “Come, Meow, come,” before she finally
closed the door. How dearly I paid for my disobedience, I will tell
you.
After staying up in the poplar tree awhile, I concluded to go in,
but the doors were all shut, and the house was dark. I called at
the kitchen door, but nobody heard me, so I crawled into a soap box
in which I found an old blanket, put there for me, no doubt, by my
thoughtful mistress. But for some reason or other I could not get
that dreadful dissecting story off my mind, and while I sat in my box
thinking about it, I saw an old black cat,--not Jack--come along on the
fence ledge and descend into my yard. I jumped up immediately and asked
him what business he had prowling around in my yard at that time of
night.
“I am looking for you,” said he, “and I want you to go with me to visit
a friend down by the railroad.”
On the whole the cat had quite a distinguished appearance, and I must
say I felt somewhat flattered by his attention. Besides that, he was so
polite and kind, and I so lonely. Well, to make a long story short, I
accepted his invitation.
My companion said we must hurry, as it was a long distance, so we
started on our journey at once. We walked to the end of Poplar Avenue,
farther than I had walked before in all my life; then we crossed
several railroad tracks, and for a short distance we went on the top of
a fence inclosing a beautiful yard with trees and shrubs and flowers.
Quite a distance from the fence stood a large white mansion, and there
my companion alighted and bade me follow him.
“Here is where my friend lives,” said he, “and his name is Cæsar
Augustus Napoleon, so you can imagine he is no ordinary cat.”
I felt very proud to think I should soon meet such a distinguished cat,
but we had not gone many steps when a very loud bark frightened me, and
I saw an enormous bulldog come toward us. I retraced my steps to the
fence, and ran away as fast as I could. But I must have gone the wrong
way, for I could not find the railroad tracks which we had crossed.
When I had gone far enough to be out of the dog’s reach, I rested for
a few minutes, and bethought me what to do. A short distance from the
fence was another beautiful mansion, and it looked so inviting in the
clear moonlight, I went over on the porch and sat upon the door-mat.
There was no dog around to frighten me, so I rested quietly, and was
just about ready to doze off into a nap when my black companion came
along, limping on three legs, his head bleeding, and one of his eyes
completely closed. He had traced me to the porch, and came up and sat
down beside me, but said nothing--goodness me, what could he say?--and
as I was very tired, I soon fell asleep. When I awoke he had gone, and
I felt I was very fortunate to be rid of him, for was he not the cause
of all my trouble?
Sad and strange thoughts passed through my mind on that unhappy
morning, and I could only hope that the “Kind Providence” that I had so
often heard mistress tell about, would be good enough to help even a
poor little homeless cat like me.
I stayed on the porch all night, lonely, and shivering with cold. I,
who had always been used to sleeping on a nice soft pad or cushion even
in the house, there on that cold night had to sleep outdoors on a straw
mat. But we must expect sorrow and shame for disobedience. After all
my greatest sorrow was caused by the thought of how dreadfully my dear
mistress would feel in the morning at not finding me.
If only the dear children who read this story would take warning from
my sad experience, and never disobey their parents, I could feel that
some good had come out of my great sorrow.
XVII
THE KIND PROVIDENCE
When it was morning, a man came out of the stable door back of the
mansion and began sweeping the walks. I started to go away when he came
near me, but he called to me in such a kind way, I lingered, though
half afraid, for a few moments.
Instead of sweeping the porch where I was sitting, he passed by, only
sweeping the steps, talking gently to me as he went along. I could tell
by the tone of his voice that he was a kind-hearted man, and when he
returned, I followed him into the stable.
There I saw four beautiful horses, each in a clean large stall, and
they all looked so happy and self-respecting. One was much darker than
the others, and I wondered whether possibly he was the “Black Beauty”
I had heard so much about. The man then began to brush and comb the
horses, talking to them, and whistling and singing part of the time.
When he had finished, he gave them their breakfast of oats and hay.
During all this time I sat contentedly in a corner under the manger,
quite forgetful of the unhappy night I had passed.
After a while a boy, about Guy’s age and with just such blond, bushy
hair, came into the stable, followed by an enormous white and yellow
St. Bernard. I was terribly frightened when I saw the dog, but I didn’t
let him know it; it isn’t a cat’s way, you know. In a jiffy my back
went up, and my tail took on the shape of a jug handle. But the dog
didn’t pay a bit of attention to me. He lay down calmly and quietly,
and in such a dignified manner. I said to myself “here is a real
gentleman.” Gradually I moved a little closer to him, and lay down
also. The boy then came over to where I was and said: “Why, kitty, what
is your name?”
I said “Meow.”
But he evidently did not understand me, for after a while he said,
“Come, Tommie, and see my sister,” and he took me up in his arms and
carried me into the house.
There I found a beautiful young lady by the name of Miss Dorothy. She
had laughing blue eyes and long golden hair, which hung down her back
in a graceful braid, tied at the end with a blue ribbon. There was also
Mr. Banks her father, and Miss Beggs, the housekeeper. Arthur--that’s
the boy’s name--set me down by the side of his sister, and told her
where he had found me.
I am very thankful to the kind Providence that put it into his heart to
love animals and to show kindness to a poor little homeless cat like me.
Miss Dorothy took me to the bathroom, where she sponged off my coat and
wiped it dry with a towel. Then she gave me a good combing, and tied a
fresh ribbon around my neck, for the one that I had on was all soiled
and ragged. She did not like the name Tommie, so she called me Tootsie,
a name which I trust I never dishonored, during the short time I bore
it. Miss Dorothy also put a soft silken cushion at the foot of her bed,
and that was my “corner” during all the time I stayed with her.
But my new ribbon came very near causing me serious trouble. Miss
Dorothy had tied it so loosely that it was quite uncomfortable. I tried
to slip it over my head, and in so doing my lower jaw became caught in
it, and I was unable to close my mouth. The worst of it all was, my
jaw was caught in such a way that I could not make an outcry or give
any alarm. I just tumbled over and over myself in my frantic effort to
get the troublesome thing off, and Miss Dorothy looked on, evidently
thinking I was playing. Finally I just sank down, exhausted, and then
she noticed my trouble, and with the scissors quickly cut the ribbon.
After that she tied it more carefully.
I happened to be in the dining-room one day when they were arranging
the dinner-table, and as four chairs were placed when there were but
three persons to sit down, I concluded that the fourth was for me; so
I jumped up next to Miss Dorothy. She seemed very much pleased, and
welcomed me with a pat on my back; but Mr. Banks frowned, and said
I must not be allowed such liberties. At this Miss Beggs offered to
take me out of the room, but Miss Dorothy begged so hard for me to
be allowed to stay, Mr. Banks finally consented, saying that if I
continued to behave as well as I had so far, he would not object.
“She is no common cat,” said Arthur; “she acts as if she were
accustomed to sitting at the table.”
Miss Dorothy gave me a loving look and said, “You are a treasure,
Toots.”
Before the meal was quite finished, “Dr. Fogg” was announced, and Miss
Dorothy arose from the table saying that she was expecting him for
dinner.
Miss Beggs then took me up-stairs, but after dinner I went down to
the library, and spent a very pleasant evening with Dr. Fogg and Miss
Dorothy.
I had given myself such a vigorous scrubbing while up-stairs that my
fur was stuck together in little tufts all over my body; but Miss
Dorothy picked me up and smoothed it all out, and put a pretty fresh
ribbon around my neck.
Then Dr. Fogg took me for a while, and after he had looked me all over
he said I was a good healthy cat.
“How can you tell?” said Miss Dorothy.
“Because her nostrils are cold and moist,” was the reply. “A sick
or famished cat has dry, hot nostrils. This cat also has many good
points,” added the doctor: “short nose, short thick tail, short round
ears and soft silken fur.”
“You are a lover of cats, I take it, or you would not be so well versed
in cat-lore,” said Miss Dorothy, with evident pleasure.
“You would think so if you could see my Remus,” replied the doctor,
the while gently stroking my back. “I wouldn’t part with him for a
fortune. Better than any medicine to a restless overworked mind is a
sleek healthy cat for a bed-fellow, for the electricity with which his
fur is charged will induce sleep when all other means fail.”
“How perfectly wonderful,” said Miss Dorothy. “I must get one for papa.
Where did you get Remus?”
“Remus,” said the doctor, “was one of a pair of black kittens that
belonged to old Black Betty at the college. Betty had the mange several
times, but the students always cured her by rubbing her sores with a
mixture of lard and sulphur, which she would immediately lick off.
During her last attack, however, she seemed to have a presentiment that
her hour had come. One morning, while my father was lecturing to the
students, Betty brought in one of her kittens, laid it at his feet,
looked up into his face and mewed. Then she went and fetched the other,
and repeated the same action, after which she returned to her basket,
and ten minutes later the janitor found her dead. Father regarded those
kittens as a sacred trust, and insisted that both be kept in our
house; so sister appropriated one, and I the other; and this is how I
came into possession of Remus.”
When the doctor began to talk about the things that they did at the
college, I expected to hear quite a different story. I am glad now
to know that they do some other things for cats in colleges besides
dissecting them.
“By the way,” said Miss Dorothy, “I read in to-day’s paper that in some
place where diphtheria is raging, all the cats have been killed because
it is supposed that they spread the disease. And in another place where
the smallpox has broken out, the health officer proposes that it is
necessary to kill off all the stray and homeless cats and dogs before
the disease can be stamped out. What do you think of that?”
“Nonsense,” said the doctor. “Everything that lives, from a fly to
an elephant, is liable to carry germs, and one of the most prolific
conductors of germs is the rat; so you see that even the persecuted
alley cat has a reason for her existence. Indeed, the congested
districts of a large city would be uninhabitable, and we would see the
scenes of the famous mouse tower enacted over again, were it not for
the services of this much maligned and misunderstood creature.”
“It seems to me,” said Miss Dorothy, “if there were anything in this
theory about cats and dogs spreading smallpox, for instance, they would
themselves be subject to the disease. But whoever heard of a cat or dog
dying of smallpox, or even being afflicted with it?”
“I am sure I never did,” replied the doctor.
As for me, the things to which I had been listening filled me with
astonishment and indignation, and I retired to my corner on Miss
Dorothy’s bed to think matters over. Would that there were more such
kind-hearted people to speak for the defenseless as Miss Dorothy and
the doctor.
But I must return to my story. Bernie, the dog, was a noble, dignified
animal, and not the least bit jealous of the attention that was being
paid to me. Often when I was out in the yard, he would invite me to lie
beside him in the sunshine, and when I did so he would put his head
down close to mine and look into my eyes, just as if he wanted to tell
me something real nice. His coat was always clean and fluffy, because
he had a bath regularly once a week, and his “corner” was in the rear
hall, where he had a white fur rug for his resting-place. But he spent
most of his time outside with Arthur and the coachman.
During the first day or two at Miss Dorothy’s I really suffered hunger,
although I was in the midst of plenty, for the cook never thought of
giving me a morsel of anything. She would throw the nicest tidbits of
meat and fish that came from the table right into the garbage can, and
let me hunt for food the best way I could. Of course, I was not used
to eating out of garbage cans, and really, I’d starve rather than do
such a vulgar thing. After a few days of such scanty fare as I could
get by catching flies and grasshoppers, I jumped up on the pantry table
one morning to see if I couldn’t find something more substantial, and
what should I see there but a great big fish. I grabbed him by the tail
and jumped down, but the fish got to the floor before I did. I then
took hold of him and pulled him over to the cellar door, and was just
starting down the stairs to take him to a quiet place, where I could
have my feast undisturbed, when the cook came in.
“Faith an’ I knowed all the time ye was a thief,” said she, jerking my
treasure away from me; and then she called Miss Dorothy in to see what
her new pet was up to. Miss Dorothy took me up in her arms, but did not
say one unpleasant word to me. She knew that no respectable cat would
steal, unless actually driven to it. She asked the cook when I was last
fed, and upon learning that no one had paid any attention to me in the
way of food, she told Miss Beggs to see that I was properly cared for
at every meal thereafter, and after that I fared better. Miss Beggs
would gather up the choicest little remnants of meat or chicken or fish
on the plates, and mix them with a little mashed potato or rice in such
a way that it made the daintiest meal for me.
So you see the kind Providence did take care of me, even though I am
only a cat.
XVIII
A WELCOME VISITOR
Miss Dorothy had many lovely neighbors, but the one I liked best of all
was Mrs. Stevens. One day when the two ladies were visiting, I happened
to be in the room, and Miss Dorothy told Mrs. Stevens how I had come
to her a homeless little stranger. Mrs. Stevens said that her children
had been wanting a little kitty for a long time, but that she had never
allowed them to have one till Mrs. Cotton persuaded her to do so.
When I heard the name of Mrs. Cotton, I was so overjoyed, I jumped on
the floor and turned several somersaults, and Mrs. Stevens laughed
heartily at my antics.
One day while napping on my cushion, I was awakened by a familiar voice
in Miss Dorothy’s room. It was a lady, and she asked Miss Dorothy if
she could take charge of the Band of Mercy for a while, as Miss Wallace
the leader, had been called away.
Of course having heard the story of Beautiful Joe, I know all about the
Band of Mercy. It is a place where little boys and girls sing and speak
lovely pieces. Here is one I heard Guy read to his mother from “Dumb
Animals:”
Three little kittens, so downy and soft,
Were cuddled up by the fire,
And two little children were sleeping aloft,
As cozy as heart could desire;
Dreaming of something ever so nice,
Dolls and sugar-plums, rats and mice.
The night wore on, and the mistress said,
“I’m sleepy, I must confess,
And as kitties and babies are safe in bed,
I’ll go to bed too, I guess.”
She went up-stairs, just a story higher,
While the kittens slept by the kitchen fire.
“What noise can that be?” the mistress said.
“Meow! meow!” “I’m afraid
A poor kitty-cat’s fallen out of bed!
The nice little nest I made!”
“Meow! meow!” “Dear me! dear me!
I wonder what can the matter be!”
The mistress paused on an upper stair,
For, what did she see below?
But three little kittens, with frightened air,
Standing up in a row!
With six little paws on the step above,
And no mother cat to caress or love!
Through the kitchen door came a cloud of smoke!
The mistress, in great alarm,
To a sense of danger straightway awoke:
Her babies might come to harm.
On the kitchen hearth, to her great amaze,
Was a basket of shavings beginning to blaze.
The three little kittens were hugged and kissed,
And promised many a mouse;
While their names were put upon honor’s list,
For hadn’t they saved a house?
And two little children were gathered tight
To their mother’s heart ere she slept that night.
The mention of the Band of Mercy brought to my mind little Willie
Cotton, and instantly it dawned upon me that the strange lady was
Willie’s mother. Mrs. Cotton carried a bunch of delicious sweet
violets, as usual.
“I will be most happy to do anything I can for Miss Wallace,” said Miss
Dorothy, “and if you think I am able to lead the Band, it will give me
great pleasure to do so.”
While Miss Dorothy was speaking I got up from my cushion, and jumped
into her lap, but Mrs. Cotton did not seem to notice me at all; she was
so interested in the Band of Mercy. Then, although I knew it was very
rude to do so, I jumped over on Mrs. Cotton’s lap. I felt that I must
in some way attract her attention. Mrs. Cotton petted me a little,
so I climbed up to her face and kissed her nose. At this Mrs. Cotton
seemed to take alarm. Perhaps she thought I was on the way up to her
hat again; but I wasn’t, for the birdies had all flown away.
“What an affectionate little creature,” said she, holding me firmly in
her lap. “Where did you get this cat?”
“She came to us a couple of weeks ago,” said Miss Dorothy, “and made
herself so thoroughly agreeable that I have had her as my constant
companion ever since.”
Mrs. Cotton looked at me more closely and said, “She looks like a cat
that my neighbor, Mrs. Paxton has lost, and she has been very unhappy
over it; only a few days ago she said she still hoped to find her
again.”
Miss Dorothy looked very sad. “Is there any way by which you could
prove that this is Mrs. Paxton’s cat?” said she, “for, if she is, I
want to return her.”
Mrs. Cotton put her hand to her forehead evidently trying to recall my
name, when I cried out “meow.”
“Oh, ‘Meow’! that was the cat’s name. Meow! Meow!”
At the sound of my name I could hardly contain myself. I kissed Mrs.
Cotton’s cheek many times, and then, seeing Miss Dorothy looked sad, I
went over and kissed her too.
“I believe you are right,” said Miss Dorothy, “and if Tootsie belongs
to Mrs. Paxton, she shall have her back. I named her after Miss
Willard’s cat because she seemed so well-bred and so dignified.”
“Mrs. Paxton will be delighted to see you,” said Mrs. Cotton, “for I
feel quite sure that this is her cat.”
“We shall all be very sorry to give her up,” said Miss Dorothy, as she
accompanied Mrs. Cotton to the door.
At the dinner-table Miss Dorothy told her father and Arthur what Mrs.
Cotton had told her.
“There is only one thing to do, daughter,” said Mr. Banks.
“Yes,” said Miss Dorothy, “I am going to take her over to-day.”
Then I knew that that would be my last day at Miss Dorothy’s, and
wishing to give my dear mistress all the pleasure I could, I
immediately set to washing myself and smoothing my fur.
To be sure I felt sad to leave my new friends who had been so very kind
to me, still I was overjoyed thinking of the happiness it would give my
mistress to find me again.
XIX
A JOYFUL REUNION
Soon after dinner that same day the carriage drove up to the side
entrance, and Miss Dorothy wrapped me in a small blanket and took me
away with her.
She held me on her lap all the way and said loving words, telling me
how she would miss me if I belonged to the other lady. My head was out
of the blanket so I could see where we were going.
After a short drive on a beautiful avenue we turned down a quiet side
street, and there, to my great delight, I saw the long row of poplar
trees so dear to me. They seemed like so many old friends, standing
there to welcome me home. Another familiar sight was Eddie riding his
velocipede, and when next I saw Jack seated on his window-sill, I knew
that we must be getting close to Number 127.
Presently the carriage stopped and Miss Dorothy alighted, leaving me on
the seat in care of the good, kind coachman. In a few minutes, which
seemed hours to me, Miss Dorothy returned to fetch me into the house.
My dear mistress met me at the door, and the moment she saw me she
said, “Meow, why did you leave me?” at the same time taking me out of
Miss Dorothy’s arms. I climbed up to her face and covered her cheeks
with kisses.
Poor Miss Dorothy watched me very closely, but after such a greeting
she could have no doubt that I was the lost Meow.
“I am sorry to take her from you,” said mistress, “for you must have
become attached to her if you have had her all this time.”
“Yes,” said Miss Dorothy, “she has been a most agreeable companion; I
shall miss her sorely.”