I rested awhile and felt a little better. No bones were broken. I could
walk slowly, and as mother's provision store was not far away, I decided
to take the risk of finding a cellar window open there. So, painfully
limping along back streets and resting in dark corners, I arrived at my
destination at midnight, and found that a window had been left open. It
was a brave task to jump down but better than staying out all night, so I
set my teeth and leaped softly in. I was greeted with a snarl and hiss
which sounded like a bunch of fire-crackers going off, and there was
mother on guard, standing with arched back in front of a box of newly-born
kittens in a dark corner. I crept toward her and with a cry of delight she
recognized me. I told my pitiful story while she gently led me to another
corner and bade me lie down on some carpeting, near which stood a saucer
of milk. She lapped my wounds and comforted me with kind words. She said
she was afraid at first that I was a bad quarrelsome cat, and that it
almost broke her heart. Judging from remarks that she dropped and as she
had such sad eyes and sighed so often, I am sadly afraid that father
himself was not exactly a Sunday-school model. I was stiff and sore the
next day and stayed in my corner. Mother brought part of her dinner to me,
but I could not bear to take the food from a nursing mother. The cries of
the kittens wore on my nerves to such an extent that I wondered if I could
ever settle down to a domestic life.
As soon as I felt able to go out into the world I did so, for I knew that
it made extra work for mother to have me there. I therefore took my
departure, deciding that I should not go back to the school (for after all
it was a dull place). It is needless to state that I thanked mother for
her kindness. Notwithstanding my first experience, I was anxious to see
life so set out with a brave heart, but without friends and no prospects
of a place to lay my head. Fortunately as it was summer and the nights
were warm, one could sleep out quite comfortably. I did not look quite up
to the mark, but knew that time alone would cover the bald places, and
restore my former agility. In the daytime I did not venture forth, but
slept most of the time in a quiet nook in a back yard where the people had
gone away for the summer. At night I came out, and a few uncovered garbage
pails helped me wonderfully, although it hurt my pride to eat this sort of
food. I was young and healthy, however, and enjoyed the free life in the
open air.
I made a few good friends, some of whom I have kept to this day. I
remember that I learned to shun boys, for they were apt to throw stones.
How they can be so cruel I cannot understand. If they realized how the
stones cut and sting, they would never use them for missiles and us for
targets. I nursed a wound on my hip bone for weeks, which was very painful
and was caused by a boy hitting me with a sharp stone. What satisfaction
can it be to them? Harming a defenseless animal can surely give none, but
it always seems a great temptation to them to do so. Once I saw a group of
small boys stoning a kitten which they had tied to a raft. I was glad when
a big policeman caught them at it. Dogs and boys were the only drawback to
what was otherwise a perfect life, and a lazily lounging about one; first
a feast and then a famine.
No matter how intense were the pangs of hunger, I followed mother's advice
and never ate sparrows or any other birds.
About this time I made the acquaintance of a cat who lived in a theatre
and one night he invited me to go behind the scenes with him. My eyes were
opened that night. Strange looking girls in stranger looking costumes came
upon the stage and attempted to dance and sing. The like of this I had
never seen before (nor, I hope, will I ever again). When their gowns were
not too short, they were much too loud for my taste, but, nevertheless, it
seems that people sit for hours watching them rave, dance, and scream.
These peculiar people were kind to me, though, for I ambled about with
considerable interest. One young female called out, "Larry, pipe the new
cat!"
Now I had seen Mr. Carver smoke a pipe and sometimes he would pick me up
and playfully blow rings of smoke in my face and laugh at me so I scurried
away for fear I should have to take one of those nasty things in my mouth.
As I was leaving the theatre one man called out to me to "beat it," and,
as I could not understand their language, which was not in the text books
at school, I made good my escape with the kindly help of an old shoe,
which accompanied me part way. "That is no place for a self-respecting
cat," I thought, so went out into the night. I was a homeless wanderer,
but managed to find a quiet corner in a dark alley and soon went to sleep.
I awoke much refreshed, but very hungry as my friend of the theatre had
neglected to treat me to anything more substantial than a chance to look
on. Oh, how I longed for a drink of milk or water! I was sorely tempted
and fell. On a door-step a short distance away was a jar of milk. It was a
moment's work to tip it over and remove the paper top with a sharp claw. I
lapped my fill and left some in the bottle for the family. That theft was
bad enough, but I fell still lower. One day I was very hungry, and
happened long just as some masons had ceased working, in order to eat
their lunches. One of the men took the cover from his dinner pail and,
leaving it open on the ground, walked away for a few minutes. I darted
quickly to the pail and, to my delight, saw a large slice of corned beef.
It was quick work to snatch it and run away, and how good it tasted! I ate
it so fast that I remember I suffered afterwards from indigestion,--or
perhaps it was a bad conscience.