awakened by being squeezed so hard that it is a wonder my body has not
ever since been flat instead of round; and as for making an outcry,
it was utterly impossible. But thanks to the kind Providence, in an
instant I felt the pressure released. Just then I heard mistress say
something about the trunk being too full, and before I got myself out
of the folds of the robe, her kind hands were upon me. As she pulled me
out of my hiding-place, she said, “For mercy sakes! cats! did you want
to go to Boston, too?” Then without another word she quickly locked the
trunk, for the expressman stood ready to take it away. So you see how
near we came to going to Boston with Guy.
After Guy had gone, some of mistress’ friends advised her to break up
housekeeping and to board.
“Just think how much cheaper it would be for you,” said Mrs. Cotton one
day; “and with no housekeeping to bother with, how much more leisure
time you would have.”
“I don’t know how I would employ my leisure more profitably,” said
mistress, “than in maintaining the dear home on which my boy’s
tenderest thoughts are centred, and around which cluster those sacred
memories that form the very ground-work of a wholesome and rugged life.
The very first letter he wrote me started out: ‘I am seated by my
window as the sun is setting over my dear western home.’ Now, would he
have such fond thoughts of his home, and would he be likely to connect
it with the beautiful spectacle of the setting sun, were it reduced to
a room in a boarding-house?”
“Again you have convinced me that your way of thinking is right,” said
Mrs. Cotton.
And so now, although Guy is no longer with us, we are still in our dear
home on Elmwood Place.
When the pleasant weather came again, mistress began to make ready, as
usual, for her summer outing. Of course, we did not expect her to take
us along this time, because we had heard that she was going way off to
her “dear Switzerland,” as she always calls it; and judging from what
they say, Switzerland must be even farther off than Denver. But we knew
that Bettie would be at home with us, so we were content.
Just before mistress went on her long journey, a lovely young lady came
to help her get ready, and the very first day they got to talking about
us cats.
“You ought to get acquainted with Mrs. Bolton,” said Miss Cummings,
“for she is just as great a friend of cats as you are and her home is a
perfect haven for strays.”
“I am very glad to hear it,” said mistress. “Do please tell me about
her cats.”
“Yes,” said Miss Cummings, “Mrs. Bolton has fitted up a little shed at
the rear of her house, which is filled up in cold weather with loose
straw. Into this place stray or homeless cats and dogs crawl through a
small opening and find shelter. Moreover they are fed and made to feel
welcome. I have known her to have so many of these transient boarders
there that it takes several pounds of meat a day to supply them; and
as soon as they look sleek and plump Mrs. Bolton generally finds good
homes for them.”
“What you say is encouraging,” said mistress, “because I am often
criticised, and told that I would do better to lavish my attentions on
some neglected child, than on cats. But children have a hundred friends
where cats have none.”
“That’s just what I have heard Mrs. Bolton say,” replied Miss Cummings.
“And furthermore I have found,” said mistress, “that my interest in
cats has increased my love for human beings, and indeed for all living
creatures.”
But to return to the journey. When mistress went away to Switzerland
three lovely young ladies came to live at our house, and Bettie kept
house for them. Toddy was living with Mrs. Smith and Budge and I
stayed at home. But if you should ask me how we spent the long summer,
I should have to tell you that we passed a good share of it sitting
on the front porch railing, where mistress had placed a shelf behind
the vines for our accommodation. There we sat day after day, looking
longingly up the street; each wanting to be the first to tell the
others the happy news of mistress’ return. At last the robins had sung
their good-bye songs, and the grasshoppers had taken their departure.
The leaves were beginning to fall but we did not find any pleasure in
chasing them, as we had other years. Our days were passed wearily and
sadly, till one morning the joyful news came that mistress had arrived
in New York. Oh! how it thrilled us with delight. Budge ran across the
street to tell Toddy, and we all went to work to sleek ourselves up so
as to look our very prettiest. I had at this time three little kittens
just ten days old, and they had that very morning opened their eyes.
They, too, had to come in for their share of grooming.
The next morning after breakfast a carriage drove up to the curb,
and in it was our mistress. Toddy recognized her from way across the
street, and came over mewing a hearty welcome. Budge gave vent to his
feelings by means of the graceful curves and spirals of his tail, and
as for me, I welcomed her with a succession of winks.
As soon as mistress had greeted us all, she inquired after my kittens
just as if she knew all about them, and, of course, I showed them to
her with great delight and pride.
“Poor, dear Meow,” said she, “you tried to have a pleasant surprise for
my home-coming, didn’t you?”
I winked assent, and then she proceeded to name my babies. The dainty
little gray with white breast, she called Lady Jane Grey; the tiger
Patsy, and the black one Hiddigeigei, after a famous black cat that
lived many years ago in a beautiful castle on the Rhine, and in a
German book[3] you can read what an honorable and useful cat he was.
When mistress took a second look at Toddy she seemed visibly affected
by the sad plight he was in, for he had been in failing health all
summer. His once beautiful body was flabby and wasted, and the once
bushy tail stringy, and almost bare. For several days Toddy received
mistress’ most lavish attention; then all of a sudden he disappeared,
and not one of us had any idea whither he had gone, till one evening
Mrs. Smith came over and inquired for him.
“I took him to the hospital,” said mistress, “but it was too late to
save him; and he has gone to the other side of Jordan.” Mrs. Smith said
she was very sorry to miss him, but that, after all, she thought that
was the best place for him.
So now, of course, although I don’t know where Jordan is, still I am
satisfied it must be a very good place for cats, if Mrs. Smith and
mistress think so; and perhaps I ought to have made the title of this
chapter read “Three Far Journeys” instead of two.
About the time mistress returned from Switzerland a lady and a
gentleman came to live across the street from us, and they brought with
them a white cat. Of course, after the way Nellie had treated us we
were in no great hurry to make the acquaintance of Snowdrop, as they
called him; but we used to watch him from our shelf on the porch as
he would have his ups and downs with Goldie, and we soon discovered
that he was very much like the rest of us in his daily conduct. True,
there were times when he would sit on his mistress’ sewing-table by the
front chamber window, and groom and primp himself just like Nellie, and
try to look pretty; but the very same day perhaps he would be rolling
in the gutter as if he thought a dust bath the very best thing to
improve his appearance. Then also he was a great fellow to explore the
neighborhood, and after he had nosed around in every nook and corner
on his own side of the street he came to our side one afternoon and
went over into the corn-field. Budge and I followed him, and after the
formal greetings common to cats, we lay down in a sunny corner and
had an interchange of views.
[Illustration: SNOWDROP]
“It seems to me you have a pretty lonesome time of it, alone all day,”
said Snowdrop, sprawling himself out on the sun-warmed earth as he
spoke.
We told him that we had become used to being alone during the day, and
what a kind mistress we had, and how we regretted her long absence.
Then he told us what a long journey he made with his mistress all the
way from a great city called Chicago to his present home.
“Are Chicago cats all white like you?” said Budge.
“No, indeed,” replied Snowdrop, “my very best friend and constant
companion in Chicago was a black cat named Topsy. She hadn’t a white
hair on her whole body; and she was the mother of two kittens, one all
black with white slippers, and the other all white with black tips on
her ears and tail. And beside her I knew many other cats just like
these around here. So you see that Chicago cats are no different from
those in other cities.”
When I asked Snowdrop how he came to leave Chicago and make such a long
journey, he said:
“You see it was this way. One day a fine gentleman came to our house,
and then there was a great feast with flowers and music and many
beautiful ladies. But my mistress was the most beautiful of them all,
for she was dressed all in white. Topsy and I were there too, all
decked out with beautiful ribbons. But right in the midst of it this
young gentleman took my mistress and me away. I was put in a large
covered basket; but I did not mind it, so long as my dear mistress
was with me. I slept all night in a chair beside her bed, and in the
morning early I was again put into my basket. The next time when it was
opened I stepped out of it in my present beautiful home. If only Topsy
was here, my happiness would be complete.”
I told Snowdrop to come over and visit us whenever he felt homesick for
Topsy, and he thanked me very kindly. But just at that moment he heard
his mistress’ call, and like an obedient cat, he arose and went home.
Budge and I promised ourselves many delightful times with Snowdrop;
but, sad to relate, that was the last we ever saw of him. We never knew
what had become of him till one day Goldie told us that he saw a man
pull Snowdrop off the porch-rail in front of his house, and walk away
with him.
Of course, his mistress was heart-broken when she discovered that her
pet had disappeared; and when, after every effort to find him, she
finally gave him up for lost, she came over and selected my little
Patsy to take Snowdrop’s place as soon as he should be old enough. But
I do hope that before that time comes, Patsy’s new mistress will put
up a shelf for him on her porch, high enough like ours, so passers-by
cannot reach him, and behind the vines, so he can see without being
seen.
Now I have told you about four far journeys instead of two.
XXX
THE BURGLAR MAN
Not very long after mistress’ return one evening just after dark a big
burglar man came into our house. I knew he was a burglar because he
crawled in through the window, and he went into all the rooms. Budge
was terribly afraid of him and hid himself under the ice-chest; but
Toddy and I followed him up-stairs to see what he would do. First
he pulled down all the shades, then lighted a little lamp which he
carried, and opened the closets and drawers, and mistress’ trunk.
He was just about to do up some of mistress’ most beautiful dresses
into a bundle, when I heard the sound of three very loud whistles on
the outside. At this the man instantly dropped everything and rushed
down-stairs; and just as he was running out of the back door, Bettie
came in at the side.
I did so wish I was big enough to grab him like Beautiful Joe did old
Jenkins, and hold unto him till she could catch him. But being only a
cat, of course, I could not do it. Still, if he had touched my kittens
I believe I should have summoned up all the tiger within me in my
efforts to defend them.
During the evening many of our neighbors came to the house to see what
the burglar had done, and from what they said I guess there is no
telling what he would have taken if the whistle hadn’t sounded just
when it did. For all I know he might have taken my babies too. At any
rate, I concluded to put them where he couldn’t find them, if he ever
came again.
Among the neighbors that called that evening was the gentleman that had
brought Snowdrop from Chicago. The moment he saw my basket he inquired
for Patsy, and mistress took him out and handed him over to his future
master.
“Feline stock is bound to rise,” said he, as he fondly petted Patsy;
“it is becoming the fashion now to have real cats in schools and
kindergartens, instead of mere pictures of them.”
“Yes,” said mistress, “the many-sided usefulness of the cat is
gradually becoming recognized. I had a vivid picture of her future
possibilities when on a visit to a hospital for insane, where I saw
sullen and turbulent men and women subdued and softened by the winsome
ways of a kitten; and the feelings that its presence seemed to awaken
within them seemed to me to point out a new way to ‘minister to a mind
diseased.’”
The gentleman finally put Patsy back into my basket and I felt quite
relieved, for I had begun to fear from the way he praised and petted
him that he was going to take him away.
That night I hunted for a good hiding-place and before morning I had my
darlings all safely tucked away in the basement behind the kindling.
It was no small task to carry each one down the stairs, for they were
now several weeks old; but you know a mother will endure almost any
hardship for the sake of her babies.
The poor little things had their rest so broken, that when mistress and
Bettie came down they were still sound asleep, and I went up-stairs to
get my breakfast at the usual time.
As soon as mistress missed my kittens she and Bettie began hunting for
them in every nook and corner, and they looked behind the kindling pile
several times; but I had put them in a hollow space away back among the
kindling where they could not be seen. After a long search they gave
it up, hoping they would come to light by evening, and my poor babies
lay all that day on the bare stone floor.
I soon discovered that I had made a mistake, for before night their
eyes were all watery, and they were sneezing a regular concert, so that
when mistress returned in the evening it did not take her long to find
them.
She brought them up-stairs and wrapped them in a flannel cloth.
Then she fixed our basket with a nice warm blanket, and set it in a
sheltered corner behind the cook-stove, and there she installed my
babies in their new quarters. For many days every morning and evening
she would take a basin of warm water, and with a soft cloth wash out
their eyes; for the discharge would make such a thick coating as to
close them up completely in a few hours. As the kittens were too small
to be fed medicine with a spoon, mistress had to devise some new way
of giving it to them. She dipped their paws repeatedly into a mixture
called catnip tea, and, of course, they would lick it off.
But even with this ingenious invention it was some weeks before my
kittens recovered from the ill effects of that unhappy day on the
basement floor. I was very sorry to have caused my dear mistress so
much trouble, and my poor babies so much suffering, but I did it to
keep the horrid burglar man from finding them.
A few days after the burglar man had visited us, a handsome water
spaniel came to the house and begged for admittance, and mistress very
gladly took him in. I think the kind Providence sent him to protect us,
for from that time we have never been bothered with burglars.
The dog was named Dennis, because he was the very image of our old-time
friend on Poplar Avenue. He and I became good friends at once, but
Budge resented his presence so bitterly that for many weeks they could
not be allowed in the same room; and it was only by very slow degrees,
as Budge saw that Dennis would not molest him, that he came to tolerate
him.
When my little kittens had become old enough to run about outdoors,
Dennis was very helpful. He would lie near the curb in front of the
house, and if one ventured out from the side of the house, he would
promptly drive him into the back yard. He was also fond of tantalizing
us at meal-time, when his meat was thrown out on the grass for him.
He would stand off, pretending he did not care for it, and just as
quick as one of us would attempt to go and take it, he would come with
a bound and a growl, and snatch it away from us, then drop it a little
further off, and repeat the operation.
Dennis was in the habit of absenting himself from us every week for a
day or two. Once he was absent several days, and upon his return wore
a beautiful collar, which, however, was missing when he returned from
his next trip. I suppose some folks thought they had found a nice dog,
and presented him with a collar; but finding him so inconstant, they
deprived him of it the next time he came around.
I must not forget to tell you of the very practical and effective way
that mistress has of teaching kittens to know and respond to their
names. As you probably know, she always gives a kitten a name as soon
as it is born. Then, whenever she picks up one, she keeps repeating its
name over and over as she pets it. She also occasionally takes one away
from the rest, up to her room or into the library, and there, whether
engaged in reading or writing, she looks up every little while and
talks to it, always calling it by name.
And right here let me tell you, a cat with a respectable name feels a
sense of dignity and self-respect that is impossible to one only known
by the general name of “kitty.” Moreover, it gives him a chance to
exercise promptness and obedience, qualities which are sure to endear
an animal to his master, because, when he hears his name called, he can
get right up and run, knowing that it means him and not some other cat.
By the way, Bettie has left us, but it was for her good that she went,
and, of course, we would not be so selfish as to be sorry about it,
although we miss her sorely. Ever since Bettie came, mistress gave her
lessons almost every evening, and Bettie studied very industriously
every spare minute. Now she has gone to work in an office and is living
in a boarding-house.
“You are very foolish when you have a good housekeeper, to put such
high-faluting notions into her head,” said Mrs. Cotton, upon hearing
where Bettie had gone. “You might have had her for years, if you had
just left her alone.”
“That’s true,” said mistress. “But the pleasure of helping one
who is striving to better her condition fully repays for a little
inconvenience.”
“You had her a year,” said Mrs. Cotton, “so you did better than most
people do, after all. These girls are always on the move.”
“It’s because most people look upon them as a mere convenience,” said
mistress, “instead of as fellow-beings with longings for happiness
and advancement like ourselves. Let housewives set before their help
a higher ideal and they will set in motion within them forces which
will root out the ever-present longing for shifting about from place to
place.”
Mrs. Cotton acted as if she did not quite agree with what mistress
said. She looked at her watch and said it was time for her to go; but
before leaving she came over to the bookcase where I had been sitting
and gave me a few gentle strokes.
XXXI
A FRIEND IN NEED
Just before Bettie went away, mistress brought home one evening two
little tiger kittens with white breasts and faces, but very thin and
haggard looking, and so distrustful. I heard her tell Mrs. Wallace that
she had brought them home to try and find homes for them.
“But I couldn’t recommend these kittens to anybody before I knew
something of their habits,” said mistress, “for if they turned out to
be troublesome it would hurt the reputation of our own kittens, and so
that is why I brought them home.” Mistress named them Billee and Taffy,
and started at once to put them through the usual course of training to
fit them for nice homes.
Taffy was a very quiet little fellow, but Billee was quite sociable.
On the day after his arrival I had occasion to do him a little favor,
and in expressing his thanks to me he grew quite talkative, and told me
something of his former life. Said he: “I was born in a stable that
stood in the rear of some stores, and we never had a mistress like you
have. Our master was very kind to his horse Jessie, and he seemed to
enjoy having us cats around after we got old enough to play. But the
old stable was so infested with fleas, we never had a moment’s peace;
and my poor mother became thin and gaunt trying to keep herself and us
looking respectable. That bath last night, I dreaded it at first; but
when I saw those fleas floating around in the suds I thought I ought
to be able to stand it for their sakes. If my mother could have a bath
like that and a brushing, and then lie down peacefully on our clean
soft pad, it would be bliss unheard of to her. But she will never leave
that dirty old stable so long as she and Jessie can share it together,
and indeed I don’t think she could have a more devoted friend; for many
a cold night did we sleep in Jessie’s stall cuddled close up to her
warm, sleek body. Near our stable was a big hotel where our mother got
daily many choice bits of meat and fish, and this is how she made her
living and raised her kittens; and I tell you it was pretty hard work
for her to carry enough food for so many hungry little mouths.”
“How many were there of you?” said I.
“Six,” said Billee, “beside our dear mother, who always gave us the
best she had of everything.”
On the very same evening that mistress brought the little kittens home,
curiously enough we had another new arrival, a Maltese cat with white
markings. She came up the sidewalk in front of our house crying as if
in great distress. Mistress invited her into the house to have some
supper, but it was evident that hunger was not the cause of her crying,
for she did not touch a morsel of food. When mistress examined her more
closely, she found to her horror that the poor thing’s breasts were
greatly swollen, and that evidently, some one had robbed her of her
kittens. Then mistress picked up the two little new kittens, and laid
them on the pad by the old cat; and instantly the little things began
to nurse her, and were soon purring a happy song of thankfulness. The
“stepmother,” as mistress called the strange cat, washed each kitten in
true mother fashion, and for several days enjoyed real mother bliss.
All this was very nice for the “stepmother,” but it proved disastrous
to the kittens, for both took sick and died. After that mistress rubbed
the old cat’s breasts daily with spirits of camphor, and in a few days
she seemed to be all right.
I asked the “stepmother” one day how she came to leave home at such a
critical time, and she unburdened to me a tale of cruelty and abuse
that is almost beyond belief. She said that there being no other place
provided, her kittens were born in the laundry basket, and that on the
next morning when they were discovered, the lady ruthlessly dumped
them out on the bare stone floor and ordered her son to come and drown
them. “So my poor babies were dropped into a bucket of cold water right
before my eyes,” said she, “and I was powerless to save them.”
“Pray, who are these people,” said I, “that treated you in this manner?”
“Their name is Morton,” said she, “and Will was the one that did the
deed; but he is not to blame. I remember years ago when he was a
most tender-hearted little fellow, and full of sympathy toward the
suffering. I shall never forget one bitter cold day when a kitten
followed him home from school and he carried it into the house and
begged to be allowed to keep it. His mother let it remain till Will’s
bedtime arrived, when she compelled him to put it outdoors, where it
cried bitterly for hours; and the next morning it was found on the
doorstep, frozen to death. And now that same mother wonders why her son
is so hard-hearted and brutal toward her.”
“I’ve heard of the Mortons before,” said I, “and I don’t blame you for
leaving them. But you are in good hands now--don’t fear.”
So the “stepmother” remained with us a few days longer, and then she
was taken by mistress to a beautiful home, where they wanted a cat to
live in the stable with the coachman.