SALLY IN HER FUR COAT
[Illustration: SALLY IN HER FUR COAT WAS RACING THROUGH THE GARDEN
(_page 1_)]
SALLY IN HER
FUR COAT
By
ELIZA ORNE WHITE
AUTHOR OF ‘BROTHERS IN FUR,’ ETC.
WITH ILLUSTRATIONS FROM SCISSOR-CUTS BY
LISL HUMMEL
[Illustration]
BOSTON AND NEW YORK
HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY
The Riverside Press Cambridge
1929
COPYRIGHT, 1929, BY ELIZA ORNE WHITE
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED INCLUDING THE RIGHT TO REPRODUCE
THIS BOOK OR PARTS THEREOF IN ANY FORM
The Riverside Press
CAMBRIDGE · MASSACHUSETTS
PRINTED IN THE U.S.A.
TO
ELIZABETH F. DUNDASS
AND
MARGARET COLTER
True friends of all in coats of fur,
Beloved by every cat and kitten,
Welcomed with many a heart-felt purr,
Here, gratefully your names are written.
The world is wide and full of wondrous things
For all God’s creatures, whether great or small,
For those who soar aloft on spreading wings,
Or those who, earth-bound, never fear a fall.
But surely kittens have a joyous time,
With ears attuned to every tiny sound,
And with the power the loftiest tree to climb,
And eyes that see all creatures on the ground.
The patter of the rain upon the leaves,
The ants that swiftly build their tiny house,
The wind that’s but a gentle summer breeze,
The stealthy tread of an alluring mouse--
All this is joy; how could one wish to be
A man or woman with closed ears and eyes
To all the treasures of the land and sea,
And to the glory of the earth and skies?
And even a child, though nearer to the ground,
Is often heedless of this wondrous earth,
Where such enthralling histories are found.
Who would not be a kitten full of mirth?
CONTENTS
I. THE ORPHANS 1
Two orphan kittens without their mother,
In piteous plight were they,
A furry sister and her brother
In coats of tiger gray.
II. THE COLD NIGHT 10
If in May the nights are cold,
When Nature should be thriving,
Young kittens but a few weeks old
Think winter is arriving.
III. THE CAPTURE 19
Is it best to be captured, or still to be free?
To have food and a fire, or one’s liberty?
To be free has its charms, but when hungry and cold,
To be captured is not at all bad, we are told.
IV. THE KITTENS AND MISS WINIFRED 27
Politeness is a pleasant trait.
If we are rude to kittens small,
We lose their love and win their hate,
Their friendship is not ours at all.
V. THE FRIENDLY HOUSE 33
A house is such a pleasant place
When friends are kind
And understand our furry race,
Our heart and mind.
VI. SALLY AND THE CLOCK 41
All mantelpieces should be wide
So cats can walk there side by side.
There should be trees in every room
For exercise in storm and gloom.
VII. THE CATNIP MOUSE 46
If I were asked what I would like
To beautify my house,
I’d say without a moment’s thought,
Give me a catnip mouse.
VIII. THE FIRST SNOWSTORM 52
I love the frostwork on the panes,
The snowfall on the trees.
I like the time when winter reigns,
And lakes and rivers freeze.
IX. BUSY SALLY 61
Long naps by day, I like that best,
When the great sun is hot and bright.
That seems the time to take a rest,
After a long and strenuous night.
X. MOODS 69
Perhaps the lady in her silk,
And coat of costly fur,
Would sometimes like my bowl of milk,
If she could have my purr.
XI. PETER 78
Old Peter I have put to flight
On more than one occasion.
He says for country he will fight,
I call it an invasion.
XII. SALLY AND THE LOUD SPEAKER 87
Speak gently, it is better far;
Soft answers are the best,
And low replies. Loud speakers are
A nuisance to the rest.
XIII. SALLY BRACES UP 95
The New Year is a glorious date
For resolutions splendid,
And dreams of valor far more great
Than in the year that’s ended.
XIV. SALLY AND SPOT 102
A tree is such a pleasant place
I’ll stay here through the night
If Spot continues at its base.
That villain I won’t fight.
XV. THE FAMILY TREE 112
I long to have a family tree
And show to all my true descent.
But Oxford says a family tree
Is not a tree for kittens meant.
To know his father is enough
For he was made of valiant stuff.
XVI. THE TRAVELING CAT 120
A traveler comes who’s seen the world,
The harbor and the sea.
He’s seen the spreading sails unfurled,
And all life’s mystery.
XVII. OXFORD GOES ON A JOURNEY 127
Proud scion of a noble race am I;
The blood of hunters courses through my veins.
Variety I crave before I die;
I fear not furious gales, nor autumn rains.
XVIII. SALLY HAS HER WISH 139
If I cannot have a mother, a mother I will be
With some darling, furry children of my own.
The furriest, purriest kittens, the most harum-scarum kittens,
The liveliest, gayest kittens ever known.
XIX. SALLY IS YOUNG WITH HER CHILDREN 147
We love to run, we love to climb,
In fact we have a royal time.
Kings cannot quite so happy be,
For kings, we hear, are not so free.
[Illustration]
SALLY IN HER FUR COAT
∵
CHAPTER I
THE ORPHANS
Sally in her fur coat was racing through the garden and flying through
the Wild Wood, as if an enemy were in hot pursuit. She was a very young
kitten and small of her age. Her pursuer was not an enemy, but her
twin brother, Oxford Gray, Junior. But although they were born on the
same day, Oxford Gray, Junior, was much fatter than Sally, and he had
shorter legs, so he could never catch up with his little sister. After
a time, he grew tired of the chase, but, being Sally’s brother and
protector, he did not like to own it, so he said:
‘Sally, I am sure all this running about must be bad for you. Come and
lie down under that giant hemlock and we’ll have a good rest.’
‘I am not in the least tired,’ said Sally, and off she scampered again.
By this time Oxford Gray, Junior, was fairly panting.
‘I am sure this mad dash will use you up,’ he said, for he did not like
to own that he was tired.
It finally dawned on Sally that this might be the case, but, being
wise beyond her weeks, she did not speak of this, but came over and
joined her brother under the shade of the giant hemlock in the Wild
Wood. There were many of these hemlocks as well as oak trees. They
were all about as high as a man’s shoulders, but they seemed immense
to the kittens. They were sometimes spoken of by people as underbrush,
but people are often stupid about many matters, as every cat knows. Of
course all this conversation was carried on in kitten language, not in
actual words.
The two kittens curled up under the shade of the giant hemlock in the
Wild Wood, and put their paws about each other’s necks. They were
tiger kittens and looked so much alike that when they were apart, it
was hard to tell which was Sally and which was Oxford Gray, Junior.
When they were together, one saw that Oxford Gray, Junior, was larger,
and that he had more of a white shirt-front than his sister, and he
had a pink nose which she envied, for hers was just a tiger nose. One
also noticed a great difference in their expressions, for Sally had
a sad little face, while Oxford Gray, Junior, looked prosperous and
thoroughly contented with himself. At times it almost seemed as if he
smiled.
‘We are two very unfortunate kittens,’ said Sally; ‘it is sad to be
orphans.’
‘We’ve got to make the best of it,’ said Oxford Gray, Junior. ‘Other
kittens have been orphans before us and others will be orphans after
us. Sally, you must brace up.’
‘When I think of my brave father and of my darling mother, so cozy and
so kind, and of how they mysteriously disappeared, I can’t brace up,’
said Sally. ‘I am sure we are going to starve.’
‘Not while I have my good right paw,’ said Oxford Gray, Junior. ‘I will
get food for you.’
‘You? How? What will you get?’
‘I will catch a mouse,’ said Oxford Gray, Junior, magnificently. ‘Our
father was a mighty hunter.’
‘But you are hardly larger than a mouse yourself,’ said Sally. ‘Father
said so.’
‘That was a very long time ago,’ said her brother. ‘I have grown since
then, and there must be many baby mice just as there are small kittens.
I will be on the lookout for a very young mouse, Sally.’
‘I am sure we shall starve before you can catch a mouse,’ said Sally,
‘for there don’t seem to be any around. We can’t live on flies, and
they are very hard to catch.’
If Sally had been a little girl, she would have cried bitterly, but,
being a kitten, she was more self-controlled.
‘Where are we going to get our next meal?’ she persisted.
‘It will somehow come,’ said Oxford Gray, Junior, who was an optimist.
He sometimes provoked Sally very much, for she was sure she saw things
as they really were.
‘We got some milk other days at that little house,’ he said.
‘Yes, but it is closed to-day,’ she reminded him.
‘Other houses will be open,’ said Oxford Gray, Junior. He glanced up as
he spoke and looked first at one of the two houses that were near the
Wild Wood and then at the other. One house was very attractive, lying
low in the valley with a pretty garden and a giant rhododendron tree
on either side of the front door. The buds were swelling and beginning
to show a hint of crimson. ‘We’ll try to get food at that house,’ said
Oxford Gray, Junior.
‘Don’t you remember what father told us about that house?’ said Sally.
‘He said it had the secret mark that is only known to cats, that says,
“No cats need apply here for food. This is a no-good house.”’
‘Yes, I remember now,’ said her brother, ‘but father said the other
house was all right. That has a secret mark that says, “Welcome, Cats.”’
‘We are not cats,’ said Sally. ‘We are such small kittens I am afraid
no one will see us; father called us “kittenettes,”’ and at the memory
of her father, Sally once more looked very sad.
‘What’s the use of worrying?’ said Oxford Gray, Junior. ‘Something
always has turned up and something always will.’
‘That is rather an ugly house, I think,’ said Sally, as she looked at
the gray house on the hill that said, in its secret language, ‘Welcome,
Cats.’ ‘It seems all pointed roofs and it hasn’t such a pretty garden
as the other house.’
‘I don’t care about its looks,’ said her brother. ‘Don’t you remember
how mother once said, “Handsome is that handsome does,” when you wished
you were an Angora with long yellow fur?’
‘Yes, I remember,’ said Sally, ‘but I wish I were a yellow Angora just
the same. I’d like to be a handsome kitten.’
‘I don’t care at all how I look,’ said Oxford Gray, Junior. ‘I’d rather
be myself. If you were a yellow Angora with long fur, you would not
have me for your twin. How would you like to lose me, Sally?’
At this terrible suggestion, Sally put her paws all the more firmly
around her brother’s neck.
‘You are the whole world to me, Oxford Gray, Junior,’ she said;
‘grandmother, and father and mother and brother, too. The others have
all disappeared, and you are all I have left. It is sad to be orphans,’
she wailed again, in her thought-transference language; ‘but if one has
to be an orphan, it is better to be twins.’
Now Sally and Oxford Gray, Junior, had been so busy about their own
concerns that they had not noticed that a lady came to the bow window
of the house that said ‘Welcome, Cats,’ in its secret language, and
that her eyes rested on the brother and sister in their fur coats,
and so it was a great surprise when they saw her come down the piazza
steps. They were frightened and scampered off as fast as they could go.
The lady put a large blue-and-white dinner plate down on the grass and,
looking around her as if searching for the kittens, she went back into
the house.
‘Poor darlings,’ she said, and there were tears in her eyes; ‘poor
kittens to have lost their mother when they were so young!’
A faint odor of fish greeted the kittens.
‘I do believe there is fish on that plate,’ said Oxford Gray, Junior.
‘Let us go and see.’
When they reached the plate, they saw it had on it a large piece of
mackerel cut in mouthfuls that would just suit them and some potato and
green vegetable about the color of grass. Perhaps it was cooked grass.
They had never seen it before. It had a most satisfying smell. Then the
hungry kittens leaned over the blue-and-white plate, one on one side
and one on the other, and they hungrily ate the delicious fish. Sally
ate daintily and slowly, but Oxford Gray, Junior, gobbled his portion
down very fast and then ate what was left of Sally’s share.
Sally hit him with her paw. There were things that even the gentle
Sally could not stand.
‘That isn’t fair,’ she said.
‘I need more to keep me alive than you do,’ said Oxford Gray, Junior.
‘If I am going to hunt for food for the pair of us, I have to be well
fed.’
‘Do you think you could catch fish?’ Sally asked. ‘I like fish even
better than mouse.’
‘Father was a mighty hunter, but I never heard that he was a
fisherman,’ said her brother. ‘I am afraid I shall have to stick to
hunting. But we are all right for to-day, Sally. Always trust to me.
Did not I tell you something would turn up?’
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