‘onernng HELEN M1. WINSLOW | it i eu \ if ? . TEPPEEL i ] 1 5 f) Wi THE | Wi ] F teea |? ' h cybiiy./ibe. 7 ol ] i [t i hageds iy C New York State Callege of Agriculture At Cornell University Dthaca, N. Y. Library owe University Library QL 795.C2W Tai ome others, Cornell University Library The original of this book is in the Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924002898793 Julia Marlowe and her Cat. Concerning Cats & g ¥ My Own and Some Others Helen M. Winslow Editor of‘'The Club Woman’”’ Bee # By Boston g Lothrop, Lee & Shepard Co. C& = COPYRIGHT, 1900, q Le} g 5 BY LOTHROP PUBLISHING Cc 2 W 1 COMPANY. First thousand June 20 1900 Third thousand June 30 1900 Fifth thousand October 15 1900 @ R b b g 6b Eighth Thousand December 11 1900 Ninth Thousand November 28 1907 Nortoood ress J. 8. Cushing Co. — Berwick & Smith Co. Norwood, Mass., U.8.A. Co the “PRETTY LADY” WHO NEVER BETRAYED A SECRET, BROKE A PROMISE, OR PROVED AN UNFAITHFUL FRIEND; WHO HAD ALL THE VIRTUES AND NONE OF THE FAILINGS OF HER SEX XI Wedicate this Volume CHAPTER I. CONCERNING THE PRETTY LaDy 5 r II. CONCERNING MY OTHER CATS . . is III. CONCERNING OTHER PEOPLE’S CATS IV. CONCERNING STILL OTHER PEOPLE’S CATS V. CONCERNING SOME Historic CaTs . VI. CONCERNING CATS IN ENGLAND VII. ConcEeRNING CaT CLUBS AND CaT SHOWS VIII. CONCERNING HIGH-BRED CATS IN AMERICA IX. CONCERNING CATS IN POETRY . X. CONCERNING CAT ARTISTS a XI. CONCERNING CAT HOSPITALS AND REFUGES XII. CONCERNING THE ORIGIN OF CATS XIII. CONCERNING VARIETIES OF CATS XIV. CONCERNING CAT LANGUAGE . 3 XV. CONCERNING KITTENS XVI. CONCERNING CERTAIN CAT CHARACTERISTICS . XVII. CONCERNING GENERAL TREATMENT OF CaTSs . APPENDIX CONCERNING THE DISEASES OF CATS’. . A CONTENTS 271 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS FACING PAGE Julia Marlowe and her Cat. - « Frontispiece 1. Pompanita; 2. Jane; 3. The Pretty Lady; 4. Thomas Erastus: important members of the author's family . . x. Lady Junia; 2. Silverton; 3. The Silverton Quartette, all ‘ton the Silverton Kennels, South Weymouth, Mass.: owned by Mrs. Florence Dyer . . - 8 © «© «@ Ella Wheeler Wilcox and her favorite cat, Banjo a 2 White Cat owned by Mrs. Leland Norton, Drexel Kennels, ehicge - Mary E. Wilkins’s Cats: 1. Augustus; 2. Punch and Judy . 1. Babylon: owned by Edmund Clarence Stedman; 2. Mischief; 3. Black Prince; 4. King Richard of the Lion Heart: all owned by Mrs. Louise Chandler Moulton. . * 1. A group of white kittens; 2. Little Furzo, a the ‘Silverton ‘Ken. nels at South Weymouth, Mass.; 3. Blanco: Miss Kate L. Gage, Brewster, N.Y.; 4. Lunch-time at Drexel Kennels, Chicago é 1. The Mutilator, Vew York Sun office cat; z. Muff: formerly owned by Miss Mary E. Booth, of Harper's Bazaar; 3. Jas the famous Quincy House catof Boston . . 1. Paris: owned by Mrs. W. E. Colburn, Chicago; 2. Paris looking in a Mirror; 3. Lord Argent and Prince Colburn, from the “ Locke- haven Cattery,” Chicago: Prince Colburn now owned by Miss Cora Wallace, East Brady, Pa. é . rand 3. Ajax: owned by D. W. Stevens, Westfield, Mass.; 2 Siew: owned by George A. Rawson, Newton, Mass. ° 1. Cherie; 2. Lord Humm; 3. Beauty Belle: all owned by “Miss Lucy C. Johnstone, 5323 Madison Avenue, Chicago . . 1. Topso of Dingley: owned by Miss Leake, Reading, England; 2, Blue Boy: owned by Madame E. Portier, Pall Mall, London . x. King Max: owned by Mrs. E. R. Taylor, Medford, Mass.; 2. rs owned by Miss Nella B. Wheatley, Chicago... 1. Mrs, Clinton Locke, with her imported Persian, Wendell ; 2. Mrs, Locke's Wendella; 3. The Lockehaven Quartette . 1. Miss Merrylegs; 2. Bumble Bee: both owned by Mrs, M. Fisk Greene, Chicago . < 1. Mustapha: owned by Dr. R. Ss. Huidekoper, New York; zs Napo- leon the Great: owned by Mrs. Charles Weed, Woodhaven, N. Y. 16 76 150 List of Illustrations FACING PAGE x. Siam: owned by Mrs, Clinton Locke; 2. Chom: owned by Mrs. Cronise, of San Francisco; 3. Tricksey, Australian cat: owned by Dr. H. L. Hammond, Killingly, Chee oe 1. Swampscott: owned by Mrs. Fred Everett Smith, Chicago; 2. King Ormuz: owned by Mrs. B. Cumberland, Dunain, Port Hope, Canada; 3. Rex: owned by Mrs. Fred Everett Smith, Chicago . Tom Brown, Jr.; Titus; Sweetheart: owned by Mrs. Fabius M. Clarke, of New York . * * Kitty's Birthday. Painting by N. Ww. Bickford, of New York ‘6 ° 1. Rosalys: imported by Mrs. Clinton Locke: owned by Miss Lucy Nichols, Waterbury, Ct.; 2. Toddy, Rex, Snowball, and Loma: owned by Mrs. A. L, Hoag, of San Francisco; 3. Roscal: owned by Miss Lucy E. Nichols, Waterbury,Ct. . . 1. Genuine Russian cat: owned by Mrs. Frederick Monroe, ‘Riverside, Ill.; 2. Toby: owned by Mrs, Elbert W. Shirk, Indianapolis; 3. Teddy Roosevelt: owned by Mrs, L. Kemp, Huron, S. Dak.; 4. Silver Dick; owned by Mrs. Porter L. Evans, East St. Louis, Ill. . . . . 1. New Mexican hairless cats: owned by T. i Shinick, Albuquerque, N.M.; 2. Blue-eyed white Manx cat Pan: owned by Miss Hester Cochran, Wimborne, England. é is a Champion Crystal: owned by C. H. Jones, Palmyra, N. “ " 1. Black Magic: Oasis Kennels, Newport, R.I.; 2. Prince Colburn: owned by Miss Cora Wallace, East Brady, Pa.; 3. Toots: the famous cat of Miss Frances Willard, now owned by Mrs. Leland Norton, Chicago * ‘ Ten Angora Kittens: bred by George A. Rawson, Newton, Mass, ‘ 1. King of the Silvers: owned by Mrs. Helena A. Mix, Old Fort, Akin, N. Y.; 2. Lord Ruffles: owned by Miss Cora Wallace, East Brady, Pa. ‘ 1. Lord Gwynne: owned by Mrs. Clinton Locke; 2. ‘Bartimeus and True Blue; owned by Mrs. Josiah Cratty, Oak Park, Ill... . x. Goozie; 2. Champion Crystal: both owned by C. H. Jones, Pal- myra, N. Y.; 3. iis owned by Mrs. E. S. Barker, lianas on-Hudson a . 1. Maternity chambers across ‘south end of Oasis Kennels, Newport, R.I, 2. First floor of Oasis Kennels, Newport, R. I., General Quarters . 2. Caprice: owned by Mrs. Ww. E. “Colburn, Chicago; 2. Lochinvar: owned by Mrs, Mary B. Thurston, Oasis Kennels, Newport, R. I. 158 164 174 182 192 Concerning Cats Concerning Cats CHAPTER I CONCERNING THE “ PRETTY LADY” HE was such a Pretty Lady, and gentle withal; so S quiet and eminently ladylike in her behavior, and yet dignified and haughtily reserved as a duchess. Still it is better, under certain circumstances, to be a cat than to be a duchess. And no duchess of the realm ever had more faithful retainers or half so abject subjects. Do not tell me that cats never love people; that only places have real hold upon their affections. The Pretty Lady was contented wherever I, her most humble slave, went with her. She migrated with me from boarding-house to sea-shore cottage; then to regular housekeeping ; up to the mountains for a summer, and back home, a long day’s journey on the railway ; and her attitude was always ‘“‘ Where- soever thou goest I will go, and thy people shall be my people.” I have known, and loved, and studied many cats, but my knowledge of her alone would convince me 9 Concerning Cats that cats love people—in their dignified, reserved way, and when they feel that their love is not wasted ; that they reason, and that they seldom act from im- pulse. I do not remember that I was born with an inordi- nate fondness for cats; or that I cried for them as an infant. I do not know, even, that my childhood was marked by an overweening pride in them; this, perhaps, was because my cruel parents established a decree, rigid and unbending as the laws of the Medes and Persians, that we must never have more than one catata time. Although this very law may argue that predilection, at an early age, for harboring everything feline which came in my way, which has since become at once a source of comfort and distraction. After a succession of feline dynasties, the kings and queens of which were handsome, ugly, sleek, forlorn, black, white, deaf, spotted, and otherwise marked, I remember fastening my affections securely upon one kitten who grew up to be the ugliest, gaunt- est, and dingiest specimen I ever have seen. In the days of his kittenhood I christened him “Tassie” after his mother; but as time sped on, and the name hardly comported with masculine dignity, this was changed to Tacitus, as more befitting his sex. He had a habit of dodging in and out of the front door, which was heavy, and which sometimes swung to- gether before he was well out of it. As a conse- quence, a caudal appendage with two broken joints i fo) Concerning the “ Pretty Lady” was one of his distinguishing features. Besides a broken tail, he had ears which bore the marks of many a hard-fought battle, and an expression which for general “lone and lorn”-ness would have dis- couraged even Mrs. Gummidge. But I loved him, and judging from the disconsolate and long-continued wailing with which he filled the house whenever I was away, my affection was not unrequited. But my real thraldom did not begin until I took the Pretty Lady’s mother. We had not been a week in our first house before a handsomely striped tabby, with eyes like beautiful emeralds, who had been the pet and pride of the next-door neighbor for five years, came over and domiciled herself. In due course of time she proudly presented us with five kittens. Edu- cated in the belief that one cat was all that was com- patible with respectability, I had four immediately disposed of, keeping the prettiest one, which grew up into the beautiful, fascinating, and seductive maltese “Pretty Lady,” with white trimmings to her coat. The mother of Pretty Lady used to catch two mice at a time, and bringing them in together, lay one at my feet and say as plainly as cat language can say, “There, you eat that one, and I'll eat this,” and then seem much surprised and disgusted that I had not devoured mine when she had finished her meal. We were occupying a furnished house for the sum- mer, however, and as we were to board through the winter, I took only the kitten back to town, thinking il Concerning Cats the mother would return to her former home, just over the fence. But no. For two weeks she refused all food and would not once enter the other house. Then I went out for her, and hearing my voice she came in and sat down before me, literally scolding me for a quarter of an hour. I shall be laughed at, but actual tears stood in her lovely green eyes and ran down her aristocratic nose, attesting her grief and accusing me, louder than her wailing, of perfidy. I could not keep her. She would not return to her old home. I finally compromised by carrying her in a covered basket a mile and a half and bestow- ing her upon a friend who loves cats nearly as well as I. But although she was petted, and praised, and fed on the choicest of delicacies, she would not be resigned. After six weeks of mourning, she disap- peared, and never was heard of more. Whether she sought a new and more constant mistress, or whether, in her grief at my shameless abandonment of her, she went to some lonely pier and threw herself off the dock, will never be known. But her reproachful gaze and tearful emerald eyes haunted me all winter. Many a restless night did I have to reproach myself for abandoning a creature who so truly loved me; and in many a dream did she return to heap shame and ignominy upon my repentant head. This experience determined me to cherish her daughter, whom, rather, I cherished as her son, until there were three little new-born kittens, which in a 12 Concerning the * Pretty Lady” moment of ignorance I “disposed of” at once. Nat- urally, the young mother fell exceedingly ill. In the most pathetic way she dragged herself after me, moaning and beseeching for help. Finally, I suc- cumbed, went to a neighbor’s where several superflu- ous kittens had arrived the night before, and begged one. It was a little black fellow, cold and half dead; but the Pretty Lady was beside herself with joy when I bestowed it upon her. For two days she would not leave the box where I established their headquarters, and for months she refused to wean it, or to look upon it as less than absolutely perfect. I may say that the Pretty Lady lived to be nine years old, and had, during that brief period, no less than ninety-three kittens, besides two adopted ones ; but never did she bestow upon any of her own offspring that wealth of pride and affection which was show- ered upon black Bobbie. When the first child of her adoption was two weeks old, I was ill one morning, and did not appear at break- fast. It had always been her custom to wait for my coming down in the morning, evidently considering it a not unimportant part of her duty to see me well launched for the day. Usually she sat at the head of the stairs and waited patiently until she heard me moving about. Sometimes she came in and sat ona chair at the head of my bed, or gently touched my face with her nose or paw. Although she knew she was at liberty to sleep in my room, she seldom did so, 13 Concerning Cats except when she had an infant on her hands. At first she invariably kept him in a lower drawer of my bureau. When he was large enough, she removed him to the foot of the bed, where for a week or two her maternal solicitude and sociable habits of noctur- nal conversation with her progeny interfered seri- ously with my night’s rest. If my friends used to notice a wild and haggard appearance of unrest about me at certain periods of the year, the reason stands here confessed. I was ill when black. Bobbie was two weeks old. The Pretty Lady waited until breakfast was over, and as I did not appear, came up and jumped on the bed, where she manifested some curiosity as to my lack of active interest in the world’s affairs, “Now, pussy,” I said, putting out my hand and stroking her back, “I’m sick this morning. When you were sick, I went and got you a kitten. Can’t you get me one?” This was all. My sister came in then and spoke to me, and the Pretty Lady left us at once; but in less than two minutes she came back with her cher- ished kitten in her mouth. Depositing him in my neck, she stood and looked at me, as much as to say :— “There, you can take him awhile. He cured me ‘and I won’t be selfish; I will share him with you.” I was ill for three days, and all that time the kitten was kept with me. When his mother wanted him, 14 Concerning the “ Pretty Lady” she kept him on the foot of the bed, where she nursed, and lapped, and scrubbed him until it seemed as if she must wear even his stolid nerves completely out. But whenever she felt like going out she brought him up and tucked him away in the hollow of my neck, with a little guttural noise that, interpreted, meant : — “ There, now you take care of him awhile. I’m all tired out. Don’t wake him up.” But when the infant had dropped soundly asleep, she invariably came back and demanded him; and not only demanded, but dragged him forth from his lair by the nape of the neck, shrieking and protesting, to the foot of the bed again, where he was obliged to go through another course of scrubbing and vigorous maternal attentions that actually kept his fur from growing as fast as the coats of less devotedly cared- for kittens grow. When I was well enough to leave my room, she transferred him to my lower bureau drawer, and then to a vantage-point behind an old lounge. But she never doubted, apparently, that it was the loan of that kitten that rescued me from an untimely grave. I have lost many an hour of much-needed sleep from my cat’s habit of coming upstairs at four A.M. and jumping suddenly upon the bed; perhaps landing on the pit of my stomach. Waking in that fashion, unsympathetic persons would have pardoned me if I had indulged in injudicious language, or had even thrown the cat violently from my otherwise peaceful 15 Concerning Cats couch. But conscience has not to upbraid me with any of these things. I flatter myself that I bear even this patiently ; I remember to have often made sleepy but pleasant remarks to the faithful little friend whose affection for me and whose desire to behold my coun- tenance was too great to permit her to wait till break- fast time. If I lay awake for hours afterward, perhaps getting nothing more than literal “cat-naps,” I consoled my- self with remembering how Richelieu, and Wellington, and Mohammed, and otherwise great as well as dis- criminating persons, loved cats; I remembered, with some stirrings of secret pride, that it is only the artistic nature, the truly zesthetic soul that appreciates poetry, and grace, and all refined beauty, who truly loves cats; and thus meditating with closed eyes, I courted slumber again, throughout the breaking dawn, while the cat purred in delight close at hand. The Pretty Lady was evidently of Angora or coon descent, as her fur was always longer and silkier than that of ordinary cats. She was fond of all the family. When we boarded in Boston, we kept her in a front room, two flights from the ground. Whenever any of us came in the front door, she knew it. No human being could have told, sitting in a closed room in winter, two flights up, the identity of a person coming up the steps and opening the door. But the Pretty Lady, then only six months old, used to rouse from her nap in a big chair, or from the top of a 16 1. Pompanita; 2. Jane; 3. The Pretty Lady; 4. Thomas Erastus: impor- tant members of the author's family. Concerning the “Pretty Lady” folding bed, jump down, and be at the hall door ready to greet the incomer, before she was halfway up the stairs. The cat never got down for the wrong person, and she never neglected to meet any and every member of our family who might be entering. The irreverent scoffer may call it “instinct,” or talk about the “sense of smell.”’ I call it sagacity. One summer we all went up to the farm in northern Vermont, and decided to take her and her son, “ Mr. McGinty,” with us. We put them both in a large market-basket and tied the cover securely. On the train Mr. McGinty manifested a desire to get out, and was allowed to do so, a stout cord having been secured to his collar first, and the other end tied to the car seat. He had a delightful journey, once used to the noise and motion of the train. He sat on our laps, curled up on the seat and took naps, or looked out of the windows with evident puzzlement at the way things had suddenly taken to flying; he even made friends with the passengers, and in general amused himself as any other traveller would on an all-day’s journey by rail, except that he did not risk his eyesight by reading newspapers. But the Pretty Lady had not travelled for some years, and did not enjoy the trip as well as formerly; on the contrary she curled herself into a round tight ball in one corner of the basket till the journey’s end was reached. ‘Once at the farm she seemed contented as long as 17 Concerning Cats I remained with her. There was plenty of milk and cream, and she caught a great many mice. She was far too dainty to eat them, but she had an inherent pleasure in catching mice, just like her more plebeian sisters; and she enjoyed presenting them to Mr. McGinty or me, or some other worthy object of her solicitude. She was at first afraid of “the big outdoors.” The wide, wind-blown spaces, the broad, sunshiny sky, the silence and the roominess of it all, were quite different from her suburban experiences; and the farm animals, too, were in her opinion curiously dan- gerous objects. Big Dan, the horse, was truly a horrible creature; the rooster was a new and suspi- cious species of biped, and the bleating calves objects of her direst hatred. The pig in his pen possessed for her the most horrid fascination. Again and again would she steal out and place herself where she could see that dread- ful, strange, pink, fat creature inside his own quar- ters. She would fix her round eyes widely upon him in blended fear and admiration. If the pig uttered the characteristic grunt of his race, the Pretty Lady at first ran swiftly away; but afterward she used to turn and gaze anxiously at us, as if to say: — “Do you hear that? Isn’t this a truly horrible creature?” and in other ways evince the same sort of surprise that a professor in the Peabody Museum might, were the skeleton of the megatherium sud- 18 Concerning the “ Pretty Lady” denly to accost him after the manner peculiar to its kind. ‘ It was funnier, even, to see Mr. McGinty on the morning after his arrival at the farm, as he sallied forth and made acquaintance with other of God’s creatures than humans and cats, and the natural enemy of his kind, the dog. In his suburban home he had caught rats and captured on the sly many an English sparrow. When he first investigated his new quarters on the farm, he discovered a beautiful flock of very large birds led by one of truly gorgeous plumage. “Ah!” thought Mr. McGinty, “this is a great and glorious country, where I can have such birds as these for the catching. Tame, too. I'll have one for breakfast.” So he crouched down, tiger-like, and crept care- fully along to a convenient distance and was prepar- ing to spring, when the large and gorgeous bird looked up from his worm and remarked : — “Cut-cut-cut, ca-dah-cut!’’ and, taking his wives, withdrew toward the barn. Mr. McGinty drew back amazed. “This is a queer bird,” he seemed to say; “saucy, too. How- ever, I’ll soon have him,” and he crept more carefully than before up to springing distance, when again this most gorgeous bird drew up and exclaimed, with a note of annoyance:— “Cut-cut-cut, ca-dah-cut! What ails that old cat, 19 Concerning Cats anyway?” And again he led his various wives barn- ward. Mr. McGinty drew up with a surprised air, and apparently made a cursory study of the leading ana- tomical features of this strange bird; but he did not like to give up, and soon crouched and prepared for another onslaught. This time Mr. Chanticleer allowed the cat to come up close to his flock, when he turned and remarked in the most amicable man- ner, “ Cut-cut-cut-cut!” which interpreted seemed to mean: “Come now; that’s all right. You're evi- dently new here; but you'd better take my advice and not fool with me.” Anyhow, with this, down went McGinty’s hope of a bird breakfast “to the bottom of the sea,” and he gave up the hunt. He soon made friends, however, with every animal on the place, and so endeared himself to the owners that he lived out his days there with a hun- dred acres and more as his own happy hunting-ground. Not so, the Pretty Lady. J went away on a short visit after a few weeks, leaving her behind. From the moment of my disappearance she was uneasy and unhappy. On the fifth day she disappeared. When I returned and found her not, I am not ashamed to say that I hunted and called her everywhere, nor even that I shed a few tears when days rolled into weeks and she did not appear, as I realized that she might be starving, or have suffered tortures from some larger animal. 20 Concerning the * Pretty Lady” There are many remarkable stories of cats who find their way home across almost impossible roads and enormous distances. There is a saying, believed by many people, “ You can’t lose a cat,” which can be proved by hundreds of remarkable returns. But the Pretty Lady had absolutely no sense of locality. She had always lived indoors and had never been allowed to roam the neighborhood. It was five weeks before we found trace of her, and then only by accident. My sister was passing a field of grain, and caught a glimpse of a small creature which she at first thought to be a woodchuck. She turned and looked at it, and called “ Pussy, pussy,” when with a heart-breaking little cry of utter delight and surprise, our beloved cat came toward her. From the first, the wide expanse of the country had confused her; she had evidently “lost her bearings” and was prob- ably all the time within fifteen minutes’ walk of the farm-house. When found, she was only a shadow of herself, and for the first and only time in her life we could count her ribs. She was wild with delight, and clung to my sister’s arms as though fearing to lose her; and in all the fuss that was made over her return, no human being could have showed more affection, or more satisfaction at finding her old friends again. That she really was lost, and had no sense of local- ity to guide her home, was proven by her conduct after she returned to her Boston home. I had pre- 2! Concerning Cats ceded my sister, and was at the theatre on the even- ing when she arrived with the Pretty Lady. The latter was carried into the kitchen, taken from her basket, and fed. Then, instead of going around the house and settling herself in her old home, she went into the front hall which she had left four months before, and seated herself on the spot where she always watched and waited when I was out. When IT came home at eleven, I saw through the screen door her “that was lost and is found.” She had been waiting to welcome me for three mortal hours. I wish those people who believe cats have no affec- tion for people could have seen herthen. She would not leave me for an instant, and manifested her love in every possible way; and when I retired for the night, she curled up on my pillow and purred herself contentedly to sleep, only rising when I did. After breakfast that first morning after her return, she asked to be let out of the back door, and made me understand that I must go with her. I did so, and she explored every part of the back yard, entreating me in the same way she called her kittens to keep close by her. She investigated our own premises thoroughly and then crept carefully under the fences on either side into the neighbor’s precincts where she had formerly visited in friendly fashion; then she came timidly back, all the time keeping watch that she did not lose me. Having finished her tour of inspection, she went in and led me on an investigat- 22 Concerning the “ Pretty Lady” ing trip all through the house, smelling of every cor- ner and base-board, and insisting that every closet door should be opened, so that she might smell each closet through in the same way. When this was done, she settled herself in one of her old nooks for a nap and allowed me to leave. But never again did she go out of sight of the house. For more than a year she would not go even into a neighbor’s yard, and when she finally decided that it might be safe to crawl under the fences on to other territory, she invariably turned about to sit fac- ing the house, as though living up to a firm determi- nation never to lose sight of it again. This practice she kept up until at the close of her last mortal sick- ness, when she crawled into a dark place under a neighboring barn and said good-by to earthly fears and worries forever. Requiescat in pace, my Pretty Lady. I wish all your sex had your gentle dignity, and grace, and beauty, to say nothing of your faithfulness and affec- tion. Like Mother Michel’s “ Monmouth,” it may be said of you :— “ She was merely a cat, But her Sublime Virtues place her on a level with The Most Celebrated Mortals, and In Ancient Egypt Altars would have been Erected to her Memory.” 23 CHAPTER II CONCERNING MY OTHER CATS . H, what a lovely cat!” is a frequent expression from visitors or passers-by at our house. And from the Pretty Lady down through her various sons and daughters to the present family protector and head, “Thomas Erastus,” and the Angora, “ Lady Betty,” there have been some beautiful creatures. Mr. McGinty was a solid-color maltese, with fur like a seal for closeness and softness, and with the disposition of an angel. He used to be seized with sudden spasms of affection and run from one to another of the family, rubbing his soft cheeks against ours, and kissing us repeatedly. This he did by taking gentle little affectionate nips with his teeth. I used to give him a certain caress, which he took as an expression of affection. After leaving him at the farm I did not see him again for two years. Then on a short visit, I asked for Mr. McGinty and was told that he was in a shed chamber. I found him asleep in a box of grain and took him out; he looked at me through sleepy eyes, turned himself over and stretched up for the old caress. As nobody ever gave him that but me, I take this as conclusive proof 24 Concerning my Other Cats that he not only knew me, but remembered my one peculiarity. Then there was old Pomp, called “old” to distin- guish him from the young Pomp of to-day, or “ Pomp- anita.” He died of pneumonia at the age of three years; but he was the handsomest black cat— and the blackest—I have ever seen. He had half a dozen white hairs under his chin; but his blackness was literally like the raven’s wing. Many handsome black cats show brown in the strong sunlight, or when their fur is parted. But old Pomp’s fur was jet black clear through, and in the sunshine looked as if he had been made up of the richest black silk velvet, his eyes, meanwhile, being large and of the purest amber. He weighed some fifteen pounds, and that somebody envied us the possession of him was evident, as he was stolen two or three times during the last summer of his life. But he came home every time; only when Death finally stole him, we had no redress. “ Bobinette,” the black kitten referred to in the previous chapter, also had remarkably beautiful eyes. We used to keep him in ribbons to match, and he knew color, too, perfectly well. For instance, if we offered him a blue or a red ribbon, he would not be quiet long enough to have it tied on; but show him a yellow one, and he would prance across the room, and not only stand still to have it put on, but purr and evince the greatest pride in it. 25 Concerning Cats Bobinette had another very pretty trick of playing with the tape-measure. He used to bring it to us and have it wound several times around his body; then he would “chase himself” until he got it off, when he would bring it back and ask plainly to have it wound round him again. After a little we noticed he was wearing the tape-measure out, and so we tried to substitute it with an old ribbon or piece of cotton tape. But Bobinette would have none of them. On the contrary, he repeatedly climbed on to the table and to the work-basket, and hunted patiently for his tape-measure, and even if it were hidden in a pocket, he kept up the search until he unearthed it; and he would invariably end by dragging forth that par- ticular tape-measure and bringing it to us. I need not say that his intelligence was rewarded. Speaking of colors, a friend has a cat that is devoted to blue. When she puts on a particularly pretty blue gown, the cat hastens to get into her lap, put her face down to the material, purr, and manifest the greatest delight; but let the same lady put on a black dress, and the cat will not come near her. “ Pompanita,” the second Pomp in our dynasty, is a fat and billowy black fellow, now five years old and weighing nineteen pounds. He was the last of the Pretty Lady’s ninety-three children. Only a few of this vast progeny, however, grew to cat-hood, as she was never allowed to keep more than one each season. The Pretty Lady, in fact, came to regard 26 Concerning my Other Cats this as the only proper method. On one occasion I had been away all day. When I got home at night the housekeeper said, ‘Pussy has had five kittens, but she won’t go near them.” When the Pretty Lady heard my voice, she came and led the way to the back room where the kittens were in the lower drawer of an unused bureau, and uttered one or two funny little noises, intimating that matters were not altogether as they should be, according to established rules of propriety. I understood, abstracted four of the five kittens, and disappeared. When I came back she had settled herself contentedly with the remain- ing kitten, and from that time on was a model mother. Pompanita the Good has all the virtues of a good cat, and absolutely no vices. He loves us all and loves all other cats as well. As for fighting, he emulates the example of that veteran who boasts that during the war he might always be found where the shot and shell were the thickest, — under the ammu- nition wagon. Like most cats he has a decided streak of vanity. My sister cut a wide, fancy collar, or ruff, of white paper one day, and put iton Pompanita. At first he felt much abashed and found it almost impos- sible to walk with it. But a few words of praise and encouragement changed all that. “Oh, what a pretty Pomp he is now!” exclaimed one and another, until he sat up coyly and cocked his head one side as if to say: — “Qh, now, do you really think I look pretty?” and 27 Concerning Cats after a few more assurances he got down and strutted as proudly as any peacock; much to the discom- fiture of the kitten, who wanted to play with him. And now he will cross the yard any time to have one of those collars on. But Thomas Erastus is the prince of our cats to-day. He weighs seventeen pounds, and is a soft, grayish-maltese with white paws and breast. One Sat- urday night ten years ago, as we were partaking of our regular Boston baked beans, I heard a faint mew. Looking down I saw beside me the thinnest kitten I ever beheld. The Irish girl who presided over our fortunes at the time used to place the palms of her hands together and say of Thomas’s appearance, “Why, mum, the two sides of ’im were just like that.” I picked him up, and he crawled pathetically into my neck and cuddled down. “There,” said a friend who was sitting opposite, “he’s fixed himself now. You'll keep him.” “No, I shall not,” I said, “but I will feed him a few days and give him to my cousin.” Inside half an hour, however, Thomas Erastus had assumed the paternal air toward us that soon made us fear to lose him. Living without Thomas now would be like a young girl’s going out without a chaperone. After that first half-hour, when he had been fed, he chased every foreign cat off the premises, and assumed the part of a watch-dog. To this day he will sit on the front porch or the window-sill and growl if he sees a 28 Lady Junia, pure white: winner of first prize in her class, Boston, January, Ig00; 2. Silverton; smoke: own brother of King Max, and winner of first prize in his class, January, 1900; 3. The Silverton Quartette, all from the Silverton Kennels, South Weymouth, Mass: owned by Mrs. Florence Dyer. I. Concerning my Other Cats tramp or suspicious character approaching. He always goes into the kitchen when the market-man calls, and orders his meat; and at exactly five o’clock in the afternoon, when the meat is cut up and dis- tributed, leads the feline portion of the family into the kitchen. Thomas knows the time of day. For six months he waked up one housekeeper at exactly seven o’clock in the morning, never varying two minutes. He did this by seating himself on her chest and gazing steadfastly in her face. Usually this waked her, but if she did not yield promptly to that treatment he would poke her cheeks with the most velvety of paws until she awoke. He has a habit now of going up- stairs and sitting opposite the closed door of the young man who has to rise hours before the rest of us do, and waiting until the door is opened for him. How he knows at what particular moment each mem- ber of the family will wake up and come forth is a mystery, but he does. How do cats tell the hour of day, anyway? The old Chinese theory that they are living clocks is, in a way, borne out by their own conduct. Not only have my cats shown repeatedly that they know the hour of rising of every member of the family, but they gather with as much regularity as the ebbing of the tides, or the setting of the sun, at exactly five o’clock in the afternoon for their supper. They are given a hearty breakfast as soon as the kitchen fire is started 29 Concerning Cats inthe morning. This theoretically lasts them until five. I say theoretically, because if they wake from their invariable naps at one, and smell lunch, they individu- ally wheedle some one into feeding them. But this is only individually. Collectively they are fed at five. They are the most methodical creatures in the world. They go to bed regularly at night when the family does. They are waiting in the kitchen for breakfast when the fire is started in the morn- ing. Then they go out of doors and play, or hunt, or ruminate until ten o’clock, when they come in, seek their favorite resting-places, and sleep until four. Evidently, from four to five is a play hour, and the one who wakes first is expected to stir up the others. But at exactly five, no matter where they may have strayed to, every one of the three, five, or seven (as the number may happen to be) will be sitting in his own particular place in the kitchen, waiting with patient eagerness for supper. For each has a par- ticular place for eating, just as bigger folk have their places at the dining table. Thomas Erastus sits in a corner; the space under the table is reserved espe- cially for Jane. Pompanita is at his mistress’s feet, and Lady Betty, the Angora, bounds to her shoulder when their meat appears. Their table manners are quite irreproachable also. It is considered quite unpardonable to snatch at another’s piece of meat, and a breach of the best cat-etiquette to show impa- tience while another is being fed. 30 Concerning my Other Cats I do not pretend to say that this is entirely natural. They are taught these things as kittens, and since cats are as great sticklers for prapriety and gentle manners as any human beings can be, they never forget it. Doubtless, this is easier because they are always well fed, but Thomas Erastus or Jane would have to be on the verge of starvation, I am sure, before they would “ grab” from one of the other cats. And as for the Pretty Lady, it was always neces- sary to see that she was properly served. She would not eat from a dish with other cats, or, except in extreme cases, from one they had left. Indeed, she was remarkable in this respect. I have seen her sit on the edge of a table where chickens were being dressed and wait patiently for a tidbit; I have seen her left alone in the room, while on that table was a piece of raw steak, but no temptation was ever great enough to make her touch any of these forbidden things. She actually seemed to have a conscience. Only one thing on the dining table would she touch. When she was two or three months old, she somehow got hold of the table-napkins done up in their rings. These were always to her the most delightful playthings in the world. As a kitten, she would play with them by the hour, if not taken away, and go to sleep cuddled affectionately around them. She got over this as she grew older; but when her first kitten was two or three months old, remember- ing the jolly times she used to have, she would sneak 31 Concerning Cats into the dining room and get the rolled napkins, carry them in her mouth to her infant, and endeavor with patient anxiety to show him how to play with them. Throughout nine years of motherhood she went through the same performance with every kitten she had. They never knew what to do with the napkins, or cared to know, and would have none of them. But she never got discouraged. She would climb up on the sideboard, or into the china closet, and even try to get into drawers where the napkins were laid away in their rings. If she could get hold of one, she would carry it with literal groans and evident travail of spirit to her kitten, and by further groans and admonitions seem to say : — “Child, see this beautiful plaything I have brought you. This is a part of your education; it is just as necessary for you to know how to play with this as to poke your paw under the closet door properly. Wake up, now, and play with it.” Sometimes, when the table was laid over night, we used to hear her anguished groans in the stillness of the night. In the morning every napkin belonging to the family would be found in a different part of the house, and perhaps a ring would be missing. These periods, however, only lasted as long, in each new kitten’s training, as the few weeks that she had amused herself with them at their age. Then she would drop the subject, and napkins had no further interest than the man in the moon until another 32 Concerning my Other Cats kitten arrived at the age when she considered them a necessary part of his education. Professor Shaler in his interesting book on the intelligence of animals gives the cat only the merest mention, intimating that he considers them below par in this respect, and showing little real knowledge of them. I wish he might have known the Pretty Lady. Once our Lady Betty had four little Angora kit- tens. She was probably the most aristocratic cat in the country, for she kept a wet nurse. Poor Jane, of commoner strain, had two small kittens the day after the Angora family appeared. Jane’s plebeian infants promptly disappeared, but she took just as promptly to the more aristocratic family and fulfilled the duties of nurse and maid. Both cats and four kittens occu- pied the same bureau drawer, and when either cat wanted the fresh air she left the other in charge; and there was a tacit understanding between them that the fluffy, fat babies must never be left alone one instant. Four small and lively kittens in the house are indeed things of beauty, and a joy as long as they last. Four fluffy little Angora balls they were, Chin, Chilla, Buffie, and Orange Pekoe, names that explain their color. And Jane, wet nurse and wait- ing-maid, had to keep as busy as the old woman that lived in a shoe. Jane it was who must look after the infants when Lady Betty wished to leave the house. Jane it was who must scrub the furry quartet until their silky fur stood up in bunches the wrong way 33 Concerning Cats all over their chubby little sides; Jane must sleep with them nights, and be ready to furnish sustenance at any moment of day or night; and above all, Jane must watch them anxiously and incessantly in waking hours, uttering those little protesting murmurs of admonition which mother cats deem so necessary toward the proper training of kittens. And, poor Jane! As lady’s maid she must bathe Lady Betty’s brow every now and then, as the more finely strung Angora succumbed to the nervous strain of kitten- rearing, and she turned affectionately to Jane for comfort. A prettier sight, or a more profitable study of the love of animals for each other was never seen than Lady Betty, her infants, and her nurse-maid. And yet, there are people who pronounce cats stupid. One evening I returned from the theatre late and roused up the four fluffy kittens, who, seeing the gas turned on, started in for a frolic. The lady mother did not approve of midnight carousals on the part of infants, and protested with mild wails against their joyful caperings. Finally, Orange Pekoe got into the closet and Lady Betty pursued him. But sud- denly a strange odor was detected. Sitting on her haunches she smelled all over the bottom of the skirt which had just been hung up, stopping every few seconds to utter a little worried note of warning to the kittens. The infants, however, displayed a quite human disregard of parental authority and gambolled on unconcernedly under the skirt; reminding one of 34 Concerning my Other Cats the old New England primer style of tales, showing how disobedient children flaunt themselves in the face of danger, despite the judicious advice of their elders. Lady Betty could do nothing with them, and grew more nervous and worried every minute in consequence. Suddenly she bethought herself of that never-failing source of strength and comfort, Jane. She went into the next room, and, although I had not heard a sound, returned in a moment with the maltese. Jane was ushered into the closet, and soon scented out the skirt. Then she too sat on her haunches and gave a long, careful sniff, turned round and uttered one “purr-t-t,’ and took the Angora off with her. Jane had discovered that there was no element of danger in the closet, and had imparted her knowledge to the finely strung Angora in an instant. And so, taking her back to bed, she “ bathed her brow” with gentle lappings until Lady Betty sank off to quiet sleep, soothed and comforted. It is not easy to study a cat. They are like sensi- tive plants, and shut themselves instinctively away from the human being who does not care for them. They know when a man or a woman loves them, almost before they come into the human presence; and it is almost useless for the unsympathetic person to try to study a cat. But the thousands who do love cats know that they are the most individual animals in the world. Dogs are much alike in their love for mankind, their obedience, faithfulness, and, in differ- 35 Concerning Cats ent degrees, their sagacity. But there is as much individuality in cats as in people. Dogs and horses are our slaves; cats never. This does not prove them without affection, as some peo- ple seem to think; on the contrary, it proves their peculiar and characteristic dignity and self-respect. Women, poets, and especially artists, like cats; deli- cate natures only can realize their sensitive nervous systems. The Pretty Lady’s mother talked almost incessantly when she was inthe house. One of her habits was to get on the window-seat outside and demand to be let in. If she was not waited upon immediately, she would, when the door was finally opened, stop when half- way in and scold vigorously. The tones of her voice and the expression of her face were so exactly like those of a scolding, vixenish woman that she caused many a hearty laugh by her tirades. Thomas Erastus, however, seldom utters a sound, and at the rare intervals when he condescends to purr, he can only be heard by holding one’s ear close to his great, soft sides. But he has the most remarkable ways. He will open every door in the house from the inside; he will even open blinds, getting his paw under the fastening and working patiently at it, with his body on the blind itself, until the hook flies back and it. finally opens. One housekeeper trained him to eat his meat close up in one corner of the kitchen. This custom he kept up after she went away, until new 36 oe | Banjo. 1 her favorite cat, eler Wilcox anc lla Whe E Concerning my Other Cats and uncommonly frisky kittens annoyed him so that his place was transferred to the top of an old table. When he got hungry in those days, however, he used to go and crowd close up in his corner and look so pathetically famished that food was generally forth- coming at once. Thomas was formerly very much devoted to the lady who lived next door, and was as much at home in her house as in ours. Her family rose an hour or two earlier than ours in the morning, and their breakfast hour came first. I should attribute Thomas’s devotion to Mrs. T. to this fact, since he invariably presented himself at her dining-room win- dow and wheedled her into feeding him, were it not that his affection seemed just as strong throughout the day. It was interesting to see him go over and rattle her screen doors, front, back, or side, knowing perfectly well that he would bring some one to open and let him in. Thomas has a really paternal air toward the rest of the family. One spring night, as usual on retiring, I went to the back door to call in the cats. Thomas Erastus was in my sister’s room, but none of the others were to be seen; nor did they come at once, evidently having strayed in their play beyond the sound of my voice. Thomas, upstairs, heard my con- tinued call and tried for some time to get out. M. had shut her door, thinking to keep in the one already safe. But the more I called, the more persistently determined he became to get out. At last M. opened 37 Concerning Cats her window and let him on to the sloping roof of the “L,” from which he could descend through a gnarled old apple tree. Meanwhile I left the back door and went on with my preparations for the night. About ten minutes later I went and called the cats again. It was a moonlight night and I saw six delinquent cats coming in a flock across the open field behind the house, —all marshalled by Mr. Thomas. He evidently hunted them up and called them in him- self; then he sat on the back porch and waited until the last kit was safely in, before he stalked gravely in with an air which said as plainly as words : — “There, it takes me to do anything with this fam- ily.” None of my cats would think of responding to the call of “ Kitty, Kitty,” or “Puss, Puss.” They are early taught their names and answer tothem. Neither would one answer to the name of another, except in occasional instances where jealousy prompts them to do so. We have to be most careful when we go out of an evening, not to let Thomas Erastus get out at the same time. In case he does, he will follow us either to the railroad station or to the electric cars and wait in some near-by nook until we come back. I have known him to sit out from seven until mid- night of a cold, snowy winter evening, awaiting our re- turn from the theatre. When we alight from the cars he is nowhere to be seen. But before we have gone 38 Concerning my Other Cats many steps, lo! Thomas Erastus is behind or beside us, proudly escorting his mistresses home, but looking neither at them, nor to the right or left. Not until he reaches the porch does he allow himself to be petted. But on our way to the cars his attitude is different. He is as frisky as a kitten. In vain do we try to “shoo” him back, or catch him. He prances along, just out of reach, but tantalizingly close; when we get aboard our car, we know he is safe in some corner gazing sadly after us, and that no danger can drive him home until we re- appear. Both Thomas and Pompanita take a deep interest in all household affairs, although in this respect they do not begin to show the curiosity of the Pretty Lady. Never a piece of furniture was changed in the house that she did not immediately notice, the first time she came into the room afterward; and she invariably jumped up on the article and thoroughly investigated affairs before settling down again. Every parcel that came in must be examined, and afterward she must lie on the paper or inside the box that it came in, always doing this with great solemnity and gazing earnestly out of her large, intelligent dark eyes. Toward the close of her life she was greatly troubled at any unusual stir in the household. She liked to have company, but nothing disturbed her more than to have a man working in the cellar, putting in coal, cutting wood, or doing such work. She used then 39 Concerning Cats to follow us uneasily about and look earnestly up into our faces, as if to say: — ; “Girls, this is not right. Everything is all upset here and ‘a’ the world’s gang agley.’ Why don’t you fix it?” She was the politest creature, too. That was the reason of her name. In her youth she was christened “Pansy”; then “Cleopatra,” “Susan,” “Lady Jane Grey” and the “Duchess.” But her manners were so punctiliously perfect, and she was such a “ pretty lady” always and everywhere; moreover she had such a habit of sitting with her hands folded politely across her gentle, lace-vandyked bosom that the only sobriquet that ever clung was the one that expressed herself the most perfectly. She was in every sense a “Pretty Lady.” For years she ate with us at the table. Her chair was placed next to mine, and no matter where she was or how soundly she had been sleeping, when the dinner bell rang she was the first to get to her seat. Then she sat patiently until I fixed a dainty meal in a saucer and placed it in the chair beside her, when she ate it in the same well- bred way she did everything. Thomas Erastus hurt his foot one day. Rather he got it hurt during a matutinal combat at which he was forced, being the head of the family, to be present, although he is far above the midnight carousals of his kind. Thomas Erastus sometimes loves to consider himself an invalid. When his dot- 40 Concerning my Other Cats ing mistress was not looking, he managed to step off on that foot quite lively, especially if his mortal enemy, a disreputable black tramp, skulked across the yard. But let Thomas Erastus see a feminine eye gazing anxiously at him through an open win- dow, and he immediately hobbled on three legs; then he would stop and sit down and assume so pathetic an expression of patient suffering that the mistress’s heart would melt, and Thomas Erastus would find himself being borne into the house and placed on the softest sofa. Once she caught him down cellar. There is a window to which he has easy access, and where he can go in and out a hundred times a day. Evidently he had planned to do so at that moment. But seeing his fond mistress, he sat down on the cellar floor, and with his most fetching expression gazed wistfully back and forth from her to the win- dow. And of course she picked him up carefully and put him on the window ledge. Thomas Erastus has all the innocent guile of a successful politician. He could manage things slicker than the political bosses, an’ he would. One summer Thomas Erastus moved —an event of considerable importance in his placid existence. He had to travel a short distance on the steam-cars ; and worse, he needs must endure the indignity of travelling that distance in a covered basket. But his dignity would not suffer him to do more than send forth one or two mournful wails of protest. After Al Concerning Cats being kept in his new house for a couple of days, he was allowed to go out and become familiar with his surroundings — not without fear and trepidation on the part of his doting mistress that he might make a bold strike for his former home. But Thomas Erastus felt he had a mission to perform for his race. He would disprove that mistaken theory that a cat, no matter how kindly he is treated, cares more for places than for people. Consequently he would not dream of going back to his old haunts. No; he sat down in the front yard and took a long look at his surroundings, the neighboring lots, a field of grass, a waving corn-field. He had already con- vinced himself that the new house was home, because in it were all the old familiar things, and he had been allowed to investigate every bit of it and to realize what had happened. So after looking well about him he made a series of tours of investigation. First, he took a bee-line for the farthest end of the nearest vacant lot; then he chose the corn-field; then the beautiful broad grounds of the neighbor below ; then across the street; but between each of these little journeys he took a bee-line back to his starting- point, sat down in front of the new house, and “ got his bearings,” just as evidently as though he could have said out loud, “This is my home and I mustn’t lose it.” In this way he convinced himself that where he lives is the centre of the universe, and that the world revolves around him. And he has since been 42 Concerning my Other Cats as happy as a cricket, — yea, happier, for death and destruction await the unfortunate cricket where Thomas Erastus thrives. But don’t say a cat can’t or won’t be moved. It’s your own fault if he won’t. 43 CHAPTER III CONCERNING OTHER PEOPLE’S CATS VERY observing reader of Mrs. Harriet Pres- cott Spofford’s stories knows that she is fond of cats and understands them. Her heroines usually have, among other feminine belongings and accessories, one or more cats. ‘Four great Persian cats haunted her every footstep,” she says of Honor, in the “ Composite Wife.” “A sleepy, snowy creature like some half-animated ostrich plume; a satanic thing with fiery eyes that to Mr. Chipperley’s percep- tion were informed with the very bottomless flames; another like a golden fleece, caressing, half human; and a little mouse-colored imp whose bounds and springs and feathery tail-lashings not only did infinite damage among the Venetian and Dresden knick- knackerie, but among Mr. Chipperley’s nerves.” In her beautiful, old-fashioned home at Newbury- port, Mass., she has two beloved cats. But I will not attempt to improve on her own account of them: — “As for my own cats,— their name has been legion, although a few remain preéminent. There was Miss Spot who came to us already named, preferring our domicile to the neighboring one she had. Her only 4 Concerning Other People's Cats for copy unsurpassed in the annals of his race, and a power and perseverance in vocality, chiefly exercised in the small hours of the morning, that, together with the appetite referred to, have earned for him the name of the Mutilator. The picture herewith given was taken when the animal was a year and a half old. Up to the age of one year the Mutilator made its lair in the inside office with the Snake Editor, until a tragic ending came to their friendship. During a fortnight’s absence of the office cat upon important business, the Snake Editor culti- vated the friendship of three cockroaches, whom he debauched by teaching them to drink beer spilled upon his desk for that purpose. On the night of the cat’s return, the three bugs had become disgrace- fully intoxicated, and were reeling around the desk beating time with their legs to a rollicking catch sung by the Snake Editor. Before the muddled insects could crawl into a crack, the Mutilator was upon them, and had bolted every one. Then with a look of reproach at the Snake Editor, he drew three perpendicular red lines across that gentleman’s features with his claws and departed in high scorn, nor could he ever thereafter be lured into the inner office where the serpent-sharp was laying for him with a space measure. Since that time he has lived in the room occupied by the reporters and news editors. “Many hundreds of stories, some of them slander- 61 Concerning Cats ous have been told about the various Suz office cats, but we have admitted here none of these false tales. The short sketch given here is beyond suspicion in all its details, as can be vouched for by many men of high position who ought to know better.” CHAPTER IV CONCERNING STILL OTHER PEOPLE’S CATS HE nearest approach to the real French Salon in America is said to be found in Mrs. Louise Chandler Moulton’s Boston drawing-room. In for- mer days, at her weekly Fridays, Sir Richard Coeur de Lion was always present, sitting on the square piano amidst a lot of other celebrities. The auto- graphed photographs of Paderewski, John Drew, and distinguished litterateurs, however, used to lose noth- ing from the proximity of Mrs. Moulton’s favorite maltese friend, who was on the most intimate terms with her for twelve years, and hobnobbed familiarly with most of the lions of one sort or another who have visited Boston and who invariably find their way into this room. If there were flowers on the piano, Richard’s nose hovered near them in a per- fect abandon of delight. Indeed, his fondness for flowers was a source of constant contention between him and his mistress, who feared lest he knock the souvenirs of foreign countries to the floor in his eager- ness to climb wherever flowers were put. He was as dainty about his eating as in his taste for the beauti- ful, scorning beef and mutton as fit only for coarser 63 Concerning Cats mortals, and choosing, like any gourmet, to eat only the breast of chicken, or certain portions of fish or lobster. He was not proof against the flavor of liver, at any time; but recognized in it his one weakness, — as the delicate lady may who takes snuff or chews gum on the sly. When Mrs. Moulton first had him, she had also a little dog, and the two, as usual when a kitten is brought up with a dog, became the great- est of friends. That Richard was a close observer was proved by the way he used to wag his tail, in the same fashion and apparently for the same reasons as the dog. This went on for several years, but when the dog died, the fashion of wagging tails went out, so far as Richard Coeur de Lion was concerned. He had a fashion of getting up on mantels, the tops of bookcases, or on shelves; and his mistress, fearing demolition of her household Lares and Pena- tes, insisted on his getting down, whereupon Richard would look reproachfully at her, apparently resenting this treatment for days afterward, refusing to come near her and edging off if she tried to make up with him. When Richard was getting old, a black cat came to Mrs. Moulton, who kept him “for luck,” and named him the Black Prince. The older cat was always jealous of the newcomer, and treated him with lofty scorn. When he caught Mrs. Moulton petting the Black Prince, who is a very affectionate fellow 64 Concerning Still Other People's Cats Richard fiercely resented it and sometimes refused to have anything to do with her for days afterward, but finally came around and made up in shamefaced fashion. Mrs. Moulton goes to London usually in the sum- mer, leaving the cats in the care of a faithful maid whom she has had for years. After she sailed, Rich- ard used to come to her door for several mornings, and not being let in as usual, understood that his be- loved mistress had left him again, whereupon he kept up a prolonged wailing for some time. He was cor- respondingly glad to see her on her return in October. Mrs. Moulton tells the following remarkable cat story :— “My mother had a cat that lived to be twenty-five years old. He was faithful and fond, and a great pet in the family, of course. About two years before his death, a new kitten was added to the family. This kitten, named Jim, immediately conceived the greatest affection for old Jack, and as the old fellow’s senses of sight and smell failed so that he could not go hunting himself, Jim used to do it for both. Every day he brought Jack mice and squirrels and other game as long as he lived. Then, too, he used to wash Jack, lapping him all over as a mother cat does her kitten. He did this, too, as long as he lived. The feebler old Jack grew the more Jim did for him, and when Jack finally died of old age, Jim was inconsolable.”’ 65 Concerning Cats Twenty-five years might certainly be termed a ripe old age for a cat, their average life extending only to ten or twelve years. But I have heard of one who seems to have attained even greater age. The mother of Jane Andrews, the writer on educational and juve- nile subjects, had one who lived with them twenty- four years. He had peculiar markings and certain ways of his own about the house quite different from other cats. He disappeared one day when he was twenty-four, and was mourned as dead. But one day, some six or seven years later, an old cat came to their door and asked to be let in. He had the same markings, and on being let in, went directly to his favorite sleeping-places and lay down. He seemed perfectly familiar with the whole place, and went on with his life from that time, just as though he had never been away, showing all his old peculiarities. When he finally died, he must have been thirty-three years old. Although in other days a great many noted men have been devoted to cats, I do not find that our men of letters to-day know so much about cats. Mr. Will- iam Dean Howells says: “I never had a cat, pet or otherwise. I like them, but know nothing of them.” Judge Robert Grant says, “ My feelings toward cats are kindly and considerate, but not ardent.” Thomas Bailey Aldrich says, “The only cat I ever had any experience with was the one I translated from the French of Emile de La Bédolliérre many 66 1. Babylon: owned by Edmund Clarence Stedman; 2. Mischief, 3. Black Prince, 4. King Richard of the Lion Heart: all owned by Mrs. Louise Chandler Moulton. Concerning Still Other People's Cats years ago for the entertainment of my children.”! Brander Matthews loves them not. George W. Cable answers, when asked if he loves the “harmless, nec- essary cat,’ by the Yankee method, and says, “If you had three or four acres of beautiful woods in which were little red squirrels and chipmunks and fifty or more kinds of nesting birds, and every abut- ting neighbor kept a cat, and none of them kept their cat out of those woods — would you like cats ?”’ which is, indeed, something of a poser. Colonel Thomas W. Higginson, however, confesses to a great fondness for cats, although he has had no remarkable cats of hisown. He tells a story told him by an old sailor at Pigeon Cove, Mass., of a cat which he, the sailor, tried in vain to get rid of. After trying several methods he finally put the cat in a bag, walked a mile to Lane’s Cove, tied the cat to a big stone with a firm sailor’s knot, took it out in a dory some distance from the shore, and dropped the cat overboard. Then he went back home to find the cat purring on the doorstep. Those who are familiar with Charles Dudley War- ner’s “My Summer in a Garden” will not need to be reminded of Calvin and his interesting traits. Mr. Warner says: “I never had but one cat, and he was rather a friend and companion than a cat. When he departed this life I did not care to do as many men do when their partners die, take a ‘second.’” The 1“ Mother Michel’s Cat.” 67 Concerning Cats sketch of him in that delightful book is vouched for as correct. Mr. Edmund Clarence Stedman, too, is a genuine admirer of cats and evidently knows how to appreci- ate them at their true value. At his home near New York, he and Mrs. Stedman have one who rejoices in the name “ Babylon,” having originated in Babylon, Long Island. He is a fine large maltese, and at- tracted a great deal of attention at the New York Cat Show in 1895. “We look upon him as an im- portant member of our family,” says Mrs. Stedman, “and think he knows as much as any of us. He despises our two other cats, but he is very fond of human beings and makes friends readily with stran- gers. He is always present at the family dinner table at meal-time and expects to have his share handed to him carefully. He has a favorite corner in the study and has superintended a great deal of literary work.” Mrs. Stedman’s long-haired, blue Kelpie took a prize in the show of ’95. Gail Hamilton was naturally a lover of cats, although in her crowded life there was not much time to devote to them. In the last year of her noble life she wrote toa friend as follows: ‘My two hands were eager to lighten the burden-bearing of a bur- dened world—but the brush fell from my hand. Now I can only sit in a nook of November sunshine, playing with two little black and white kittens. Well, T never before had time to play with kittens as much 68 Concerning Still Other People’s Cats as I wished, and when I come outdoors and see them bounding toward me in long, light leaps, I am glad that they leap toward me and not away from me, little soft, fierce sparks of infinite energy holding a mystery of their own as inscrutable as life. And I remember that with all our high art, the common daily sun searches a man for one revealing moment, and makes a truer portrait than the most laborious painter. The divine face of our Saviour, reflected in the pure and noble traits of humanity, will not fail from the earth because my hand has failed in cunning.” One would expect a poet of Ella Wheeler Wilcox’s temperament to be passionately fond of cats, just as she is. One would expect, too, that only the most beautiful and luxurious of Persians and Angoras would satisfy her demand for a pet. This is also justifiable, as she has several magnificent cats, about whom she has published a number of interesting stories. Her Madame Ref is quite a noted cat, but Mrs. Wilcox’s favorite and the handsomest of all is named Banjo, a gorgeous chinchilla and white Angora, with a silken coat that almost touches the floor and a ruff, or “lord mayor’s chain,” that is a finger wide. His father was Ajax, his mother was Madame Ref, and Mrs. Wilcox raised him. She has taught him many cunning tricks. He will sit up like a bear, and when his mistress says, ‘“ Hug me, Banjo,” he puts both white paws around her neck and hugs her tight. Then she says, “Turn the 69 Concerning Cats other cheek,” and he turns his furry chops for her to kiss. He also plays “dead,” and rolls over at com- mand. He, too, is fond of literary work, and superin- tends his mistress’s writing from a drawer of her desk. Goody Two-eyes is another of Mrs. Wilcox’s pets, and has one blue and one topaz eye. Who has not read Agnes Repplier’s fascinating essays on “ Agrippina” and “A Kitten”? I cannot quite believe she gives cats credit for the capacity for affection which they really possess, but her description of “ Agrippina” is charming :— “ Agrippina’s beautifully ringed tail flapping across my copy distracts my attention and imperils the neatness of my penmanship. Even when she is dis- posed to be affable, turns the light of her countenance upon me, watches with attentive curiosity every stroke I make, and softly, with curved paw, pats my pen as it travels over the paper, even in these halcyon moments, though my self-love is flattered by her con- descension, I am aware that I should work better and more rapidly if I denied myself this charming com- panionship. But, in truth, it is impossible for a lover of cats to banish these alert, gentle, and discriminat- ing little friends, who give us just enough of their regard and complaisance to make us hunger for more. M. Fee, the naturalist, who has written so admirably about animals, and who understands, as only a French- man can understand, the delicate and subtle organiza- tion of a cat, frankly admits that the keynote of Jo Concerning Still Other People's Cats its character is independence. It dwells under our roofs, sleeps by our fire, endures our blandishments, and apparently enjoys our society, without for one moment forfeiting its sense of absolute freedom, with- out acknowledging any servile relation to the human creature who shelters it. “Rude and masterful souls resent this fine self- sufficiency in a domestic animal, and require that it shall have no will but theirs, no pleasure that does not emanate from them. “Yet there are people, less magisterial, perhaps, or less exacting, who believe that true friendship, even with an animal, may be built up on mutual esteem and independence ; that to demand gratitude is to be unworthy of it; and that obedience is not essential to agreeable and healthy intercourse. A man who owns a dog is, in every sense of the word, its master: the term expresses accurately their mutual relations. But it is ridiculous when applied to the limited pos- session of a cat. I am certainly not Agrippina’s mistress, and the assumption of authority on my part would be a mere empty dignity, like those swelling titles which afford such innocent delight to the Free- masons of our severe republic. “How many times have I rested tired eyes on her graceful little body, curled up in a ball and wrapped round with her tail like a parcel; or stretched out luxuriously on my bed, one paw coyly covering her face, the other curved gently inwards, as though clasp- 71 Concerning Cats ing an invisible treasure. Asleep or awake, in rest of in motion, grave or gay, Agrippina is always beautiful ; and it is better to be beautiful than to fetch and carry from the rising to the setting of the sun. “But when Agrippina has breakfasted and washed, and sits in the sunlight blinking at me with affec- tionate contempt, I feel soothed by her absolute and unqualified enjoyment. I know how full my day will be of things that I don’t want particularly to do, and that are not particularly worth doing; but for her, time and the world hold only this brief moment of contentment. Slowly the eyes close, gently the little body is relaxed. Oh, you who strive to relieve your overwrought nerves and cultivate power through repose, watch the exquisite languor of a drowsy cat, and despair of imitating such perfect and restful grace. There is a gradual yielding of every muscle to the soft persuasiveness of slumber: the flexible frame is curved into tender lines, the head nestles lower, the paws are tucked out of sight: no convul- sive throb or start betrays a rebellious alertness : only a faint quiver of unconscious satisfaction, a faint heaving of the tawny sides, a faint gleam of the half- shut yellow eyes, and Agrippina is asleep. I look at her for one wistful moment and then turn reso- lutely to my work. It were ignoble to wish myself in her place: and yet how charming to be able to settle down to a nap, sans peur et sans reproche, at ten o’clock in the morning.” 72 Concerning Still Other People’s Cats And again: “When I am told that Agrippina is disobedient, ungrateful, cold-hearted, perverse, stupid, treacherous, and cruel, I no longer strive to check the torrent of abuse. I know that Buffon said all this, and much more, about cats, and that people have gone on repeating it ever since, principally because these spirited little beasts have remained just what it pleased Providence to make them, have pre- served their primitive freedom through centuries of effete and demoralizing civilization. Why, I wonder, should a great many good men and women cherish an unreasonable grudge against one animal because it does not chance to possess the precise qualities of another? ‘My dog fetches my slippers for me every night,’ said a friend, triumphantly, not long ago. ‘He puts them first to warm by the fire, and then brings them over to my chair, wagging his tail, and as proud as Punch. Would your cat do as much for you, I’d like to know?’ Assuredly not. If I waited for Agrippina to fetch me shoes or slippers, I should have no other resource save to join as speedily as possible one of the barefooted religious orders of Italy. But after all, fetching slippers is not the whole duty of domestic pets. “ As for curiosity, that vice which the Abbé Galiani held to be unknown to animals, but which the more astute Voltaire detected in every little dog that he saw peering out of the window of its master’s coach, it is the ruling passion of the feline breast. A 73 Concerning Cats closet door left ajar, a box with half-closed lid, an open bureau drawer, —these are the objects that fill a cat with the liveliest interest and delight. Agrip- pina watches breathlessly the unfastening of a parcel, and tries to hasten matters by clutching actively at the string. When its contents are shown to her, she examines them gravely, and then, with a sigh of relief, settles down to repose. The slightest noise disturbs and irritates her until she discovers its cause. If she hears a footstep in the hall, she runs out to see whose it is, and, like certain troublesome little people I have known, she dearly loves to go to the front door every time the bell is rung. From my window she surveys the street with tranquil scrutiny, and if the boys are playing below, she follows their games with a steady, scornful stare, very different from the wistful eagerness of a friendly dog, quivering to join in the sport. Sometimes the boys catch sight of her, and shout up rudely at her window; and I can never sufficiently admire Agrip- pina’s conduct upon these trying occasions, the well- bred composure with which she affects neither to see nor to hear them, nor to be aware that there are such objectionable creatures as children in the world. Sometimes, too, the terrier that lives next door comes out to sun himself in the street, and, beholding my cat sitting well out of reach, he dances madly up and down the pavement, barking with all his might, and rearing himself on his short legs, in a futile 74 Concerning Still Other People's Cats attempt to dislodge her. Then the spirit of evil enters Agrippina’s little heart. The window is open and she creeps to the extreme edge of the stone sill, stretches herself at full length, peers down smilingly at the frenzied dog, dangles one paw enticingly in the air, and exerts herself with quiet malice to drive him to desperation. Her sense of humor is awak- ened by his frantic efforts and by her own absolute security; and not until he is spent with exertion, and lies panting and exhausted on the bricks, does she arch her graceful back, stretch her limbs lazily in the sun, and with one light bound spring from the win- dow to my desk.” And what more delightful word did ever Miss Repplier write than her description of a kitten? It, she says, “is the most irresistible comedian in the world. Its wide-open eyes gleam with wonder and mirth. It darts madly at nothing at all, and then, as though suddenly checked in the pursuit, prances sideways on its hind legs with ridiculous agility and zeal. It makes a vast pretence of climbing the rounds of a chair, and swings by the curtains like an acrobat. It scrambles up a table leg, and is seized with comic horror at finding it- self full two feet from the floor. If you hasten to its rescue, it clutches you nervously, its little heart thumping against its furry sides, while its soft paws expand and contract with agitation and relief : — 75 Concerning Cats “¢And all their harmless claws disclose, Like prickles of an early rose.’ “Yet the instant it is back on the carpet it feigns to be suspicious of your interference, peers at you out of ‘the tail o’ its e’e,’ and scampers for protection under the sofa, from which asylum it presently emerges with cautious, trailing steps as though encompassed by fearful dangers and alarms.” Nobody can sympathize with her in the following description better than I, who for years was com- pelled by the insistence of my Pretty Lady to aid in the bringing up of infants : — “T own that when Agrippina brought her first-born son —aged two days—-and established him in my bedroom closet, the plan struck me at the start as inconvenient. I had prepared another nursery for the little Claudius Nero, and I endeavored for a while to convince his mother that my arrangements were best. But Agrippina was inflexible. The closet suited her in every respect; and, with charming and irresistible flattery, she gave me to understand, in the mute language I knew so well, that she wished her baby boy to be under my immediate protection. “*T bring him to you because I trust you,’ she said as plainly as looks can speak. ‘Downstairs they handle him all the time, and it is not good for kittens to be handled. Here he is safe from harm, and here 76 ‘osvolyD ‘sjeuuey jaxaiq ye owy-youny] ‘Ft ‘ACN ‘laysMoig ‘asvn ‘ry ojyey ssipy Aq poumo sayouryg Ape] jo uos :oourig *€ ‘sseyy ‘yynoUsa Ay YINOG ye sjauuay UOPaATIG ay} WOIY 2 plo syoamM ua} ‘aniq pyos :oziny ayy] “Ss Ssuayy aya jo dnois y 11 Concerning Still Other People's Cats he shall remain.’ After a few weak remonstrances, the futility of which I too clearly understood, her persistence carried the day. I removed my clothing from the closet, spread a shawl upon the floor, had the door taken from its hinges, and resigned myself, for the first time in my life, to the daily and hourly companionship of an infant. “T was amply rewarded. People who require the household cat to rear her offspring in some remote attic or dark corner of the cellar have no idea of all the diversion and pleasure that they lose. It is delightful to watch the little, blind, sprawling, feeble, helpless things develop swiftly into the grace and agility of kittenhood. It is delightful to see the mingled pride and anxiety of the mother, whose parental love increases with every hour of care, and who exhibits her young family as if they were infant Gracchi, the hope of all their race. During Nero’s extreme youth, there were times when Agrippina wearied both of his companionship and of her own maternal duties. Once or twice she abandoned him at night for the greater luxury of my bed, where she slept tranquilly by my side, unmindful of the little wailing cries with which Nero lamented her deser- tion. Once or twice the heat of early summer tempted her to spend the evening on the porch roof which lay beneath my windows, and I have passed some anxious hours awaiting her return, and wondering what would happen if she never 77 Concerning Cats came back, and I were left to bring up the baby by hand. “But as the days sped on, and Nero grew rapidly in beauty and intelligence, Agrippina’s affection for him knew no bounds. She could hardly bear to leave him even for a little while, and always came hurrying back to him with a loud, frightened mew, as if fearing he might have been stolen in her absence. At night she purred over him for hours, or made little gurgling noises expressive of ineffable content. She resented the careless curiosity of strangers, and was a trifle supercilious when the cook stole softly in to give vent to her fervent admiration. But from first to last she shared with me her pride and pleasure; and the joy in her beautiful eyes, as she raised them to mine, was frankly confiding and sympathetic. When the infant Claudius rolled for the first time over the ledge of the closet and lay sprawling on the bedroom floor, it would have been hard to say which of us was the more elated at his prowess.” What became of these most interesting cats, is only hinted at; Miss Repplier’s sincere grief at their loss is evident in the following : — “Every night they retired at the same time and slept upon the same cushion, curled up inextricably into one soft, furry ball. Many times I have knelt by their chair to bid them both good night; and always when I did so, Agrippina would lift her charming head, purr drowsily for a few seconds, and 7 Concerning Still Other People’s Cats then nestle closer still to her first-born, with sighs of supreme satisfaction. The zenith of her life had been reached. Her cup of contentment was full. “Tt is a rude world, even for little cats, and evil chances lie in wait for the petted creatures we strive to shield from harm. Remembering the pangs of separa- tion, the possibilities of unkindness or neglect, the troubles that hide in ambush on every unturned page, I am sometimes glad that the same cruel and selfish blow struck both mother and son, and that they lie together, safe from hurt or hazard, sleeping tranquilly and always, under the shadow of the friendly pines.” Probably no modern cat has been more written about than Miss Mary L. Booth’s Muff. There was a “ Tippet,” but he was early lost. Miss Booth, as the editor of Harper's Bazar, was the centre of a large circle of literary and musical people. Her Sat- urday evenings were to New York what Mrs. Moul- ton’s Fridays are to Boston, the nearest approach to the French salon possible in America. At these Saturday evenings Muff always figured promi- nently, being dressed in a real lace collar (brought him from Yucatan by Madame la Plongeon, and elabo- rate and expensive enough for the most fastidious lady), and apparently enjoying the company of noted intellectual people as well as the best of them. And who knows, if he had spoken, what light he might have shed on what seemed to mere mortals as myste- rious, abstruse, and occult problems? Perhaps, after 79 Concerning Cats all, he liked that “salon” because in reality he found so much to amuse him in the conversation; and perhaps he was, under that guise of friendly interest in noted scientists, reformers, poets, musicians, and litterateurs, only whispering to himself, “O Lord, what fools these mortals be!” “For when I play with my cat,” says Montaigne, “how do I know whether she does not make a jest of me?” But Muff was a real nobleman among cats, and extraordinarily handsome. He was a great soft gray maltese with white paws and breast— mild, amiable, and uncommonly intelligent. He felt it his duty to help entertain Miss Booth’s guests, always; and he more than once, at the beginning of a reception, came into the drawing-room with a mouse in his mouth as his offering to the occasion. Naturally enough “he caused the stampede,” as Mrs. Spofford puts it, “that Mr. Gilbert forgot to put into ‘Princess Ida’ when her Amazons wild demonstrate their courage.” As one of Miss Booth’s intimate friends, Mrs. Spofford was much at her house and became early a devoted admirer of Muff’s. “His latter days,” she says, “were rendered mis- erable by a little silky, gray creature, an Angora named Vashti, who was a spark of the fire of the lower regions wrapped round in long silky fur, and who never let him alone one moment: who was full of tail-lashings and racings and leapings and fury, 80 Concerning Still Other People’s Cats and of the most demonstrative love for her mistress. Once I made them collars with breastplates of tiny dangling bells, nine or ten; it excited them nearly to madness, and they flew up and down stairs like unchained lightning till the trinkets were taken off.” In a house full of birds Muff never touched one, although he was an excellent mouser (who says cats have no conscience?). He was, although so socially inclined toward his mistress’s guests, a timid person, and the wild back-yard cats filled him with terror. “But as one must see something of the world,” continues Mrs. Spofford, “he used to jump from lintel to lintel of the windows of the block, if by chance his own were left open, and return when he pleased.” Muff died soon after the death of Miss Booth. Vashti, who was very much admired by all her mistress’s literary friends, was given to Miss Juliet Corson. Miss Edna Dean Proctor, the poet, is another admirer of fine cats. Her favorite, however, was the friend of her childhood called Beauty. “Beauty was my grandmother’s cat,” says Miss Proctor, “and the delight of my childhood. To this far-off day I remember her as distinctly as I do my aunt and cousins of that household, and even my dear grandmother herself. I know nothing of her ancestry and am not at all sure that she was royally pred, for she came, one chill night, a little wanderer 81 Concerning Cats to the door. But a shred of blue ribbon was clinging to her neck, and she was so pretty, and silky, and win- some that we children at once called her Beauty, and fancied she had strayed from some elegant home where she had been the pet of the household, lap- ping her milk from finest china and sleeping on a cushion of down. When we had warmed, and fed, and caressed her, we made her bed in a flannel-lined box among our dolls, and the next morning were up before the sun to see her, fearing her owners would appear and carry her away. But no one arrived to claim her, and she soon became an important mem- ber of the family, and grew handsomer, we thought, day by day. Her coat was gray with tiger markings, but paws and throat and nose were snowy white, and in spite of her excursions to barns and cellars her constant care kept them spotless— indeed, she was the very Venus of cats for daintiness and grace of pose and movement. To my grandmother her vari- ous attitudes had an undoubted meaning. If in a rainy day Beauty washed her face toward the west, her observant mistress would exclaim: ‘See, kitty is washing her face to the west. It will clear.’ Or, even when the sky was blue, if Beauty turned east- ward for her toilet, the comment would be: ‘Kitty is washing her face to the east. The wind must be getting “out” (from the sea), and a storm brewing.’ And when in the dusk of autumn or winter evenings Beauty ran about the room, chasing her tail or frol- 82 Concerning Still Other People’s Cats icking with her kittens instead of sleeping quietly by the fire as was her wont, my grandmother would look up and say: ‘Kitty is wild to-night. The wind will blow hard before morning.’ If I sometimes asked how she knew these things, the reply would be, ‘My mother told me when I was a little girl.” Now her mother, my great-grandmother, was a distinguished personage in my eyes, having been the daughter of Captain Jonathan Prescott who commanded a com- pany under Sir William Pepperell at the siege of Louisburg and lost his life there; and I could not question the wisdom of colonial times. Indeed, to this hour I have a lingering belief that cats can fore- tell the weather. “ And what a mouser she was! Before her time we often heard the rats and mice in the walls, but with her presence not one dared to peep, and cupboard and pantry were unmolested. Now and then she carried her forays to hedge and orchard, and I remember one sad summer twilight that saw her bring in a slender brown bird which my grandmother said was the cuckoo we had delighted to hear in the still mornings among the alders by the river. She was scolded and had no milk that night, and we never knew her to catch a bird again. “O to see her with her kittens! She always hid them in the haymows, and hunting and finding them brought us no end of excitement and pleasure. Twice a day, at least, she would come to the house 83 Concerning Cats to be fed, and then how we watched her returning steps, stealing cautiously along the path and waiting behind stack or door the better to observe her — for pussy knew perfectly well that we were eager to see her darlings, and enjoyed misleading and piquing us, we imagined, by taking devious ways. How well I recall that summer afternoon when, soft-footed and alone, I followed her to the floor of the barn. Just as she was about to spring to the mow she espied me, and, turning back, cunningly settled herself as if for a quiet nap in the sunny open door. Deter- mined not to lose sight of her, I threw myself upon the fragrant hay ; but in the stillness, the faint sigh- ing of the wind, the far-off ripple of the river, the hazy outline of the hills, the wheeling swallows over- head, were blended at length in an indistinct dream, and I slept, oblivious of all. When I woke, pussy had disappeared, the sun was setting, the cows were coming from the pastures, and I could only return to the house discomfited. That particular family of kittens we never saw till a fortnight later, when the proud mother brought them in one by one, and laid them at my grandmother’s feet. “What became of Beauty is as mysterious as the fate of the Dauphin. To our grief, she disappeared one November day, and we never saw her more. Sometimes we fancied she had been carried off by an admiring traveller: at others we tortured our- selves with the belief that the traditional wildcat of 84 Concerning Stil Other People’s Cats the north woods had devoured her. All we knew was that she had vanished; but when memory pic- tures that pleasant country home and the dear circle there, white-throated Beauty is always sleeping by the fire.” Miss Fidelia Bridges, the artist, is another devoted cat lover, and at her home at Canaan, Ct., has had several interesting specimens. “Among my many generations of pet cats,” says Miss Bridges, “one aristocratic maltese lady stands out in prominence before all the rest. She was a cat of great personal beauty and independence of character — a remarkable huntress, bringing in game almost as large as herself, holding her beautiful head aloft to keep the great wings of pigeons from trailing on the ground. She and her mother were fast friends from birth to death. When the young maltese had her first brood of kittens, her mother had also a family in another barrel in the cellar. When we went to see the just-arrived family, we found our Lady Malty’s bed empty, and there in her mother’s barrel were both families and both mothers. A delightful arrangement for the young mother, who could leave her children in the grandmother’s care and enjoy her liberty when it pleased her to roam abroad. The young lady had an indomitable will, and when she decided to do a thing nothing would turn her aside. She found a favorite resting-place on a pile of blankets in a dark attic room. This 85 Concerning Cats being disapproved of by the elders, the door was kept carefully closed. She then found entrance through a stove-pipe hole, high up on the wall of an adjoining room. A cover was hung over the hole. She sprang up and knocked it off. Then, as a last resort, the hole was papered over like the wall-paper of the room. She looked, made a leap, and crashed through the paper with as merry an air as a circus- rider through his papered hoop. She had a habit of manceuvring to be shut out of doors at bed-time, and then, when all was still, climbing up to my win- dow by means of a porch over a door beneath it, to pass the night on my bed. In some alterations of the house, the porch was taken away. She looked with dismay for a moment at the destruction of her ladder, then calmly ran up the side of the house to my window, which she always after continued to do. “Next in importance, perhaps, is my present in- timate companion, now ten years old and absolutely deaf, so that we communicate with signs. If I want to attract his attention I step on the floor: if to go to his dinner, I show him a certain blue plate: to call him in at night, I take a lantern outside the door, and the flash of light attracts his attention from a great distance. On one occasion he lived nine months alone in the house while I made a trip to Europe, absolutely refusing all the neighbors’ invita- tions to enter any other house. A friend’s gardener 86 r AoguvyyT Jo ‘Woog °5 LCL HL Somey oly ey) Aq: Judas Fyuo Boo wy AAV] SSTTY YAO { QLAAT OLY NY OUT, 1 AQ. POUMO ALLOLUIO, FNP °S Concerning Still Other People’s Cats brought him his daily rations. As warm weather came, he spent his days in the fields, returning in the night for his food, so that at my return it was two or three days before he discovered that the house was open. The third evening he entered the open door, looked wildly about for a moment, but when I put my hand on him suddenly recognized me and overwhelmed me with affectionate caresses, and for two days and nights would not allow me out of his sight, unable to eat or sleep unless I was close at hand, and following me from room to room and chair to chair. And people say that cats have no affection !”’ At the Quincy House in Boston may be seen in the office an oil painting of an immense yellow cat. The first time I noticed the picture, I was pro- ceeding into the dining room, and while waiting for dinner, was amused at seeing the original of the picture walk sedately in, all alone, and going to an empty table, seat himself with majestic grace in a chair. The waiter, seeing him, came forward and pushed up the chair as he would do for any other guest. The cat then waited patiently without putting his paws on the table, or violating any other law of table etiquette, until a plate of meat came, cut up to suit his taste (I did not hear him give his order), and then, placing his front paws on the edge of the table, he ate from his plate. When he had finished, he descended from his table and stalked out of the room 87 Concerning Cats with much dignity. He was always regular at his meals, and although he picked out a good seat, did not always sit at the same table. He was in appear- ance something like the famous orange cats of Venice, and attracted much attention, as might be expected, up to his death, at a ripe old age. Miss Frances Willard was a cat-lover, too, and had a beautiful cat which is known to all her friends. “Tootsie” went to Rest Cottage, the homeof Frances Willard, when only a kitten, and there he lived, the pet of the household and its guests, until several years ago, when Miss Willard prepared to go abroad. Then she took Tootsie in her arms, carried him to the Drexel kennels in Chicago, and asked their owner, Mrs. Leland Norton, to admit him as a member of her large cat family, where he still lives. To his praise be it spoken, he has never forgotten his old friends at Rest Cottage. To this day, whenever any of them come to call upon him, he honors them with instant and hearty recognition. Miss Willard was sometimes forced to be separated from him more than a year at a time, but neither time nor change had any effect upon Tootsie. At the first sound of her voice he would spring to her side. He is a mag- nificent Angora, weighing twenty-four pounds, with the long, silky hair, the frill, or lord mayor’s chain, the superb curling tail, and the large, full eyes of the thoroughbred. Then he has proved himself of aris- tocratic tendencies, has beautiful manners, is endowed 88 Concerning Still Other People’s Cats with the human qualities of memory and discrimina- tion, and is zsthetic in his tastes. Being the privileged character that he is, Tootsie always eats at the table with the family. He has his own chair and bib, and his manners are said to be exquisite. CHAPTER V CONCERNING SOME HISTORIC CATS T is quite common for writers on the cat to say, I “The story of Théophile Gautier’s cats is too familiar to need comment.” On the contrary, I do not believe it is familiar to the average reader, and that only those who know Gautier’s ‘‘ Ménagerie In- time” in the original, recall the particulars of his “White and Black Dynasties.” For this reason they shall be repeated in these pages. I use Mrs. Cashel- Hoey’s translation, partly in a selfish desire to save myself time and labor, but principally because she has preserved so successfully the sympathetic and appreciative spirit of M. Gautier himself. “Dynasties of cats, as numerous as those of the Egyptian kings, succeeded each other in my dwell- ing,” says he. “One after another they were swept away by accident, by flight, by death. All were loved and regretted: but life is made up of oblivion, and the memory of cats dies out like the memory of men.” After making mention of an old gray cat who always took his part against his parents, and used to bite Madame Gautier’s legs when she pre- sumed to reprove her son, he passes on at once to the go Concerning Some Fftstoric Cats romantic period, and the commemoration of Childe- brand. “This name at once reveals a deep design of flout- ing Boileau, whom I did not like then, but have since become reconciled to. Has not Nicholas said :— “¢O le plaisant projet d’un poéte ignorant Que de tant de héros va choisir Childebrant !’ “Now I considered Childebrand a very fine name indeed, Merovingian, medizval, and Gothic, and vastly preferable to Agamemnon, Achilles, Ulysses, or any Greek name whatsoever. Romanticism was the fashion of my early days: I have no doubt the people of classical times called their cats Hector, Ajax, or Patroclus. Childebrand was a splendid cat of com- mon kind, tawny and striped with black, like the hose of Saltabadil in ‘Le Rois’Amuse.’ With his large, green, almond-shaped eyes, and his symmetrical stripes, there was something tigerlike about him that pleased me. Childebrand had the honor of figuring in some verses that I wrote to ‘flout’ Boileau : — “Puis je te décrirai ce tableau de Rembrandt Que me fait tant plaisir : et mon chat Childebrand, Sur mes genoux pose selon son habitude, Levant sur moi la téte avec inquiétude, Suivra les mouvements de mon doigt qui dans l’air Esquisse mon récit pour le rendre plus clair. “‘Childebrand was brought in there to make a good rhyme for Rembrandt, the piece being a kind of con- gr Concerning Cats fession of the romantic faith made to a friend, who was then as enthusiastic as myself about Victor Hugo, Sainte Beuve, and Alfred de Musset.... I come next to Madame Théophile, a ‘red’ cat, with a white breast, a pink nose, and blue eyes, whom I called by that name because we were on terms of the closest intimacy. She slept at the foot of my bed: she sat on the arm of my chair while I wrote: she came down into the garden and gravely walked about with me: she was present at all my meals, and frequently intercepted a choice morsel on its way from my plate to my mouth. One day a friend who was going away for a short time, brought me his parrot, to be taken care of during his absence. The bird, finding itself ina strange place, climbed up to the top of its perch by the aid of its beak, and rolled its eyes (as yellow as the nails in my arm-chair) in a rather frightened manner, also moving the white membranes that formed its eye- lids. Madame Théophile had never seen a parrot, and she regarded the creature with manifest surprise. While remaining as motionless as a cat mummy from Egypt in its swathing bands, she fixed her eyes upon the bird with a look of profound medita- tion, summoning up all the notions of natural history that she had picked up in the yard, in the garden, and on the roof. The shadow of her thoughts passed over her changing eyes, and we could plainly read in them the conclusion to which her scrutiny led, ‘ De- cidedly this is a green chicken.’ g2 Concerning Some Historic Cats “This result attained, the next proceeding of Madame Théophile was to jump off the table from which she had made her observations, and lay herself flat on the ground in a corner of the room, exactly in the attitude of the panther in Géréme’s picture watch- ing the gazelles as they come down to drink at a lake. The parrot followed the movements of the cat with feverish anxiety: it ruffled its feathers, rattled its chain, lifted one of its feet and shook the claws, and rubbed its beak against the edge of its trough. In- stinct told it that the cat was an enemy and meant mischief. The cat’s eyes were now fixed upon the bird with fascinating intensity, and they said in per- fectly intelligible language, which the poor parrot dis- tinctly understood, ‘This chicken ought to be good to eat, although it is green.” We watched the scene with great interest, ready to interfere at need. Madame Théophile was creeping nearer and nearer almost imperceptibly; her pink nose quivered, her eyes were half closed, her contractile claws moved in and out of their velvet sheaths, slight thrills of pleasure ran along her backbone at the idea of the meal she was about to make. Such novel and exotic food excited her appetite. “All in an instant her back took the shape of a bent bow, and with a vigorous and elastic bound she sprang upon the perch. The parrot, seeing its danger, said in a bass voice as grave and deep as M. Prudhomme’s own, ‘ As tu déjeuné, Jacquot?’ 93 Concerning Cats “This utterance so terrified the cat that she sprang backwards. The blare of a trumpet, the crash and smash of a pile of plates flung to the ground, a pistol shot fired off at her ear, could not have frightened her more thoroughly. All her ornithological ideas were overthrown. “<«Et de quoi? Du réti du roi?’ continued the parrot. “Then might we, the observers, read in the physi- ognomy of Madame Théophile, ‘This is not a bird, it is a gentleman ; it talks.’ “¢ Quand j’ai bu du vin clairet, Tout tourne, tout tourne au cabaret,’ shrieked the parrot in a deafening voice, for it had perceived that its best means of defence was the terror aroused by its speech. The cat cast a glance at me which was full of questioning, but as my response was not satisfactory, she promptly hid her- self under the bed, and from that refuge she could not be induced to stir during the whole of the day. People who are not accustomed to live with animals, and who, like Descartes, regard them as mere machines, will think that I lend unauthorized mean- ings to the acts of the ‘volatile’ and the ‘ quadruped,’ but I have only faithfully translated their ideas into human language. The next day Madame Théophile plucked up courage and made another attempt, which 94 I. Paris: owned by Mrs. W. E. Colburn, Chicago. 2. Paris looking in a Mirror. 3. Lord Argent and Prince Colburn, from the ‘ Lockehaven Cattery,” Chicago. Prince Colburn now owned by Miss Cora Wallace, East Brady, Pa. Concerning Some Historic Cats was similarly repulsed. From that moment she gave it up, accepting the bird as a variety of man. “This dainty and charming animal was extremely fond of perfumes, especially of patchouli and the scent exhaled by India shawls. She was also very fond of music, and would listen, sitting on a pile of music- books, while the fair singers who came to try the critic’s piano filled his room with melody. All the time Madame Théophile would evince great pleasure. She was, however, made nervous by certain notes, and at the high /2 she would tap the singer’s mouth with her paw. This was very amusing, and my vis- itors delighted in making the experiment. It never failed ; the dilettante in fun was not to be deceived. “The rule of the ‘White Dynasty’ belonged to a later epoch, and was inaugurated in the person of a pretty little kitten as white as a powder puff, who came from Havana. On account of his spotless whiteness he was called Pierrot; but when he grew up this name was very properly magnified into Don- Pierrot-de-Navarre, which was far more majestic, and suggested ‘grandee-ism.’ [M. Théophile Gautier lays it down as a dogma that all animals with whom one is much taken up, and who are ‘spoiled,’ become delightfully good and amiable. Don-Pierrot-de-Na- varre successfully supported his master’s theory; perhaps he suggested it. ] “He shared in the life of the household with the enjoyment of quiet fireside friendship that is char- 95 Concerning Cats acteristic of cats. He had his own place near the fire, and there he would sit with a convincing air of comprehension of all that was talked of and of inter- est in it; he followed the looks of the speakers, and uttered little sounds toward them as though he, too, had objections to make and opinions to give upon the literary subjects which were most frequently dis- cussed. He was very fond of books, and when he found one open on a table he would lie down on it, turn over the edges of the leaves with his paws, and after a while fall asleep, for all the world as if he had been reading a fashionable novel. He was deeply interested in my writing, too; the moment I took up my pen he would jump upon the desk, and follow the movement of the penholder with the gravest attention, making a little movement with his head at the beginning of each line. Sometimes he would try to take the pen out of my hand. “Don-Pierrot-de-Navarre never went to bed until I had come in. He would wait for me just inside the outer door and rub himself to my legs, his back in an arch, with a glad and friendly purring. Then he would go on before me, preceding me with a page- like air, and I have no doubt, if I had asked him, he would have carried the candlestick. Having thus conducted me to my bedroom, he would wait quietly while I undressed, and then jump on my bed, take my neck between his paws, gently rub my nose with his own, and lick me with his small, pink tongue, as 96 Concerning Some Historic Cats rough as a file, uttering all the time little inarticulate cries, which expressed as clearly as any words could do his perfect satisfaction at having me with him again. After these caresses he would perch himself on the back of the bedstead and sleep there, carefully balanced, like a bird on a branch. When I awoke, he would come down and lie beside me until I got up. “ Pierrot was as strict as a concierge in his notions of the proper hour for all good people to return to their homes. He did not approve of anything later than midnight. In those days we had a little society among friends, which we called ‘The Four Candles,’ —the light in our place of meeting being restricted to four candles in silver candlesticks, placed at the four corners of the tables. Sometimes the talk became so animated that I forgot all about time, and twice or three times Pierrot sat up for me until two o’clock in the morning. After a while, however, my conduct in this respect displeased him, and he retired to rest without me. I was touched by this mute protest against my innocent dissipation, and thenceforth came home regularly at twelve o'clock. Nevertheless, Pierrot cherished the mem- ory of my offence for some time; he waited to test the reality of my repentance, but when he was con- vinced that my conversion was sincere, he deigned to restore me to his good graces, and resumed his nocturnal post in the anteroom. “To gain the friendship of a cat is a difficult 97 Concerning Cats thing. The cat is a philosophical, methodical, quiet animal, tenacious of its own habits, fond of order and cleanliness, and it does not lightly confer its friend- ship. If you are worthy of its affection, a cat will be your friend, but never your slave. He keeps his free will, though he loves, and he will not do for you what he thinks unreasonable; but if he once gives himself to you, it is with such absolute confidence, such fidelity of affection. He makes himself the companion of your hours of solitude, melancholy, and toil. He remains for whole evenings on your knee, uttering his contented purr, happy to be with you, and forsaking the company of animals of his own species. In vain do melodious mewings on the roof invite him to one of those cat parties in which fish bones play the part of tea and cakes; he is not to be tempted away from you. Put him down and he will jump up again, with a sort of coo- ing sound that is like a gentle reproach; and some- times he will sit upon the carpet in front of you, looking at you with eyes so melting, so caressing, and so human, that they almost frighten you, for it is impossible to believe that a soul is not there. “ Don-Pierrot-de-Navarre had a sweetheart of the same race and of as snowy a whiteness as himself. The ermine would have looked yellow by the side of Seraphita, for so this lovely creature was named, in honor of Balzac’s Swedenborgian romance. Sera- phita was of a dreamy and contemplative disposition. 98 Concerning Some Htstoric Cats She would sit on a cushion for hours together, quite motionless, not asleep, and following with her eyes, in a rapture of attention, sights invisible to mere mortals. Caresses were agreeable to her, but she returned them in a very reserved manner, and only in the case of persons whom she favored with her rarely accorded esteem. She was fond of luxury, and it was always upon the handsomest easy-chair, or the rug that would best show off her snowy fur, that she would surely be found. She devoted a great deal of time to her toilet, her glossy coat was carefully smoothed every morning. She washed herself with her paw, and licked every atom of her fur with her pink tongue until it shone like new silver. When any one touched her, she instantly effaced all trace of the contact; she could not endure to be tumbled. An idea of aristocracy was suggested by her elegance and distinction, and among her own people she was a duchess at least. She delighted in perfumes, would stick her nose into bouquets, bite scented handkerchiefs with little spasms of pleasure, and walk about among the scent bottles on the toilet table, smelling at their stoppers; no doubt, she would have used the powder puff if she had been permitted. Such was Seraphita, and never did cat more amply justify a poetic name. I must mention here that, in the days of the White Dynasty, I was also the happy possessor of a family of white rats, and that the cats, always supposed to be their 99 Concerning Cats natural, invariable, and irreconcilable enemies, lived in perfect harmony with my pet rodents. The rats never showed the slightest distrust of the cats, nor did the cats ever betray their confidence. Don- Pierrot-de-Navarre was very much attached to them. He would sit close to their cage and observe their gambols for hours together, and if by any chance the door of the room in which they were left was shut, he would scratch and mew gently until some one came to open it and allow him to rejoin his little white friends, who would often come out of the cage and sleep close to him. Seraphita, who was of a more reserved and disdainful temper, and who dis- liked the musky odor of the white rats, took no part in their games; but she never did them any harm, and would let them pass before her without putting out a claw. “ Don-Pierrot-de-Navarre, who came from Havana, required a hothouse temperature: and this he al- ways had in his own apartments. The house was, however, surrounded by extensive gardens, divided by railings, through and over which cats could easily climb, and in those gardens were trees inhabited by a great number of birds. Pierrot would frequently take advantage of an open door to get out of an evening and go a-hunting through the wet grass and flower-beds: and, as his mewing under the windows when he wanted to get in again did not always awaken the sleepers in the house, he frequently had 100 Concerning Some Historic Cats to stay out until morning. His chest was delicate, and one very chilly night he caught a cold which rapidly developed into phthisis. At the end of a year of coughing, poor Don Pierrot had wasted to a skeleton, and his coat, once so silky, was a dull, harsh white. His large, transparent eyes looked un- naturally large in his shrunken face: the pink of his little nose had faded, and he dragged himself slowly along the sunny side of the wall with a melancholy air, looking at the yellow autumnal leaves as they danced and whirled in the wind. Nothing is so touching as a sick animal: it submits to suffering with such gentle and sad resignation. We did all in our power to save Pierrot: a skilful doctor came to see him, felt his pulse, sounded his lungs, and ordered him ass’s milk. He drank the prescribed beverage very readily out of his own especial china saucer. For hours together he lay stretched upon my knee, like the shadow of a sphinx. I felt his spine under my finger tips like the beads of a rosary, and he tried to respond to my caresses by a feeble purr that resembled a death-rattle. On the day of his death he was lying on his side panting, and sud- denly, with a supreme effort, he rose and came to me. His large eyes were opened wide, and he gazed at me with a look of intense supplication, a look that seemed to say, ‘Save me, save me, you, who are a man.’ Then he made a few faltering steps, his eyes became glassy, and he fell down, uttering so lament- 101 Concerning Cats able a cry, so dreadful and full of anguish, that I was struck dumb and motionless with horror. He was buried at the bottom of the garden under a white rose tree, which still marks the place of his sepulture. Three years later Seraphita died, and was buried by the side of Don Pierrot. With her the White Dy- nasty became extinct, but not the family. This snow- white couple had three children, who were as black as ink. Let any one explain that mystery who can. The kittens were born in the early days of the great renown of Victor Hugo’s ‘Les Miserables,’ when everybody was talking of the new masterpiece, and the names of the personages in it were in every mouth. The two little male creatures were called Enjolras and Gavroche, and their sister received the name of Eponine. They were very pretty, and I trained them to run after a little ball of paper and bring it back to me when I threw it into the corner of the room. In time they would follow the ball up to the top of the bookcase, or fish for it behind boxes or in the bottom of china vases with their dainty little paws. As they grew up they came to disdain those frivolous amusements, and assumed the philosophical and meditative quiet which is the true temperament of the cat. “To the eyes of the careless and indifferent observer, three black cats are just three black cats, but those who are really acquainted with animals know that their physiognomy is as various as that of 102 1 and 3. Ajax: owned by D. W. Stevens, Westfield, Mass. Valued at $1000. 2. Snow: owned by George A. Rawson, Newton, Mass; winner at Crystal Palace, London. Concerning Some Historic Cats the human race. I was perfectly well able to dis. ' tinguish between these little faces, as black as Harle- quin’s mask, and lighted up by disks of emerald with golden gleams. Enjolras, who was much the hand- somest of the three, was remarkable for his broad, leonine head and full whiskers, strong shoulders, and a superb feathery tail, There was something theat- rical and pretentious in his air, like the posing of a popular actor. His movements were slow, undula- tory, and majestic: so circumspect was he about where he set his feet down that he always seemed to be walking among glass and china. His disposition was by no means stoical, and he was much too fond of food to have been approved of by his namesake. The temperate and austere Enjolras would certainly have said to him, as the angel said to Swedenborg, ‘You eat too much.’ I encouraged his gastronomical tastes, and Enjolras attained a very unusual size and weight. “Gavroche was a remarkably knowing cat, and looked it. He was wonderfully active, and his twists, twirls, and tumbles were very comic. He was of a Bohemian temperament, and fond of low company. Thus he would occasionally compromise the dignity of his descent from the illustrious Don-Pierrot-de- Navarre, grandee of Spain of the first class, and the Marquesa Dona Seraphita, of aristocratic and disdain- ful bearing. He would sometimes return from his ex- peditions to the street, accompanied by gaunt, starved 103 Concerning Cats companions, whom he had picked up in his wander- ings, and he would stand complacently by while they bolted the contents of his plate of food in a violent hurry and in dread of dispersion by a broomstick or a shower of water. I was sometimes tempted to say to Gavroche, ‘A nice lot of friends you pick up,’ but I refrained, for, after all, it was an amiable weak- ness: he might have eaten his dinner all by himself. “The interesting Eponine was more slender and graceful than her brothers, and she was an extraordi- narily sensitive, nervous, and electric animal. She was passionately attached to me, and she would do the honors of my hermitage with perfect grace and propriety. When the bell rang, she hastened to the door, received the visitors, conducted them to the salon, made them take seats, talked to them — yes, talked, with little coos, murmurs, and cries quite unlike the language which cats use among them- selves, and which bordered on the articulate speech of man. What did she say? She said quite plainly: ‘Don’t be impatient: look at the pictures, or talk with me, if I amuse you. My master is coming down. On my appearing she would retire dis- creetly to an arm-chair or the corner of the piano, and listen to the conversation without interrupting it, like a well-bred animal accustomed to good society. “ Eponine’s intelligence, fine disposition, and socia- bility led to her being elevated by common consent to the dignity of a person, for reason, superior in- 104 Concerning Some Historic Cats stinct, plainly governed her conduct. That dignity conferred on her the right to eat at table like a per- son, and not in a corner on the floor, from a saucer, like an animal. Eponine had a chair by my side at breakfast and dinner, but in consideration of her size she was privileged to place her fore paws on the table. Her place was laid, without a knife and fork, indeed, but with a glass, and she went regularly through dinner, from soup to dessert, awaiting her turn to be helped, and behaving with a quiet pro- priety which most children might imitate with advan- tage. At the first stroke of the bell she would appear, and when I came into the dining room she would be at her post, upright in her chair, her fore paws on the edge of the tablecloth, and she would present her smooth forehead to be kissed, like a well-bred little girl who was affectionately polite to relatives and old people. When we had friends to dine with us, Eponine always knew that company was expected. She would look at her place, and if a knife, fork, and spoon lay near her plate she would immediately turn away and seat herself on the piano-stool, her invariable refuge. Let those who deny the possession of reason to animals explain, if they can, this little fact, apparently so simple, but which contains a world of induction. From the pres- ence near her plate of those implements which only man can use, the observant and judicious cat con- cluded that she ought on this occasion to give way 105 Concerning Cats to a guest, and she hastened to do so. She was never mistaken: only, when the visitor was a person whom she knew and liked, she would jump on his knee and coax him for a bit off his plate by her graceful caresses. She survived her brothers, and was my dear companion for several years... . Such is the chronicle of the Black Dynasty.” Although cats have no place in the Bible, neither can their enemies who sing the praise of the dog, find much advantage there: for that most excellent animal is referred to in anything but a complimentary fashion — “ For without are dogs and sorcerers.” The great prophet of Allah, however, knew a good cat when he saw it. ‘“ Muezza” even contributed her small share to the development of the Mahometan system: for did she not sit curled up in her master’s sleeve, and by her soft purring soothe and deepen his meditations? And did she not keep him dreaming so long that she finally became exhausted herself, and fell asleep in his flowing sleeve; whereupon did not Mahomet, rather than disturb her, and feeling that he must be about his Allah’s business, cut off his sleeve rather than disturb the much loved Muezza? The nurses of Cairo tell this story to their young charges to this day. Cardinal Richelieu had many a kitten, too; and morose and ill-tempered as he was, found in them much amusement. His love for them, however, was not that unselfish love which led Mahomet to cut off 106 Concerning Some Historic Cats his sleeve; but simply a selfish desire for passing amusement. He cared nothing for that most inter- esting process, the development of a kitten into a cat, and the study of its individuality which is known only to the real lover of cats. For it is recorded of him that as soon as his pets were three months old he sent them away, evidently not caring where, and pro- cured new ones. M. Champfleury, however, thinks it possible that there may not be any real foundation for this story about Richelieu. He refers to the fact that Moncrif says not a word about the celebrated cardinal’s pas- sion for those creatures; but he does say, “ Every- body knows that one of the greatest ministers France ever possessed, M. Colbert, always had a number of kittens playing about that same cabinet in which so many institutions, both honorable and useful to the nation, had their origin.” (Can it be that Richelieu has been given credit for Colbert’s virtues? In various parts of Chateaubriand’s “ Memoires” may be found eulogiums on the cat. So well known was his fondness for them, that even when his other feelings and interests faded with age and decay, his affections for cats remained strong to the end. This love became well known to all his compeers, and once on an embassy to Rome the Pope gave him a cat. He was called “ Micetto.” According to Cha- teaubriand’s biographer, M. de Marcellus, “ Pope Leo XII’s cat could not fail to reappear in the description 107 Concerning Cats of that domestic hearth where I have so often seen him basking. In fact, Chateaubriand has immor- talized his favorite in the sketch which begins, ‘My companion is a big cat, of a greyish red.’” This ecclesiastical pet was always dignified and imposing in manners, ever conscious that he had been the gift of a sovereign pontiff, and had a tre- mendous weight of reputation to maintain. He used to stroke his tail when he desired Madame Recamier to know that he was tired. “TI love in the cat,” said Chateaubriand to M. de Marcellus, “that independent and almost ungrateful temper which prevents it from attaching itself to any one: the indifference with which it passes from the salon to the house-top. When you caress it, it stretches itself out and arches its back, indeed: but that is caused by physical pleasure, not, as in the case of the dog, by a silly satisfaction in loving and being faithful to a master who returns thanks in kicks. The cat lives alone, has no need of society, does not obey except when it likes, and pretends to sleep that it may see the more clearly, and scratches everything that it can scratch. Buffon has belied the cat: I am laboring at its rehabilitation, and hope to make of it a tolerably good sort of animal, as times go.” Cardinal Wolsey, Lord High Chancellor of Eng- land, was another cat-lover, and his superb cat sat in a cushioned arm-chair by his side in the zenith of his 108 Concerning Some Flistovic Cats pride and power, the only one in that select circle who was not obliged to don a wig and robe while act- ing in a judicial capacity. Then there was Bouhaki, the proud Theban cat that used to wear gold ear- rings as he sat at the feet of King Hana, his owner, perhaps, but not his master, and whose reproduction in the tomb of Hana in the Necropolis at Thebes, between his master’s feet in a statue, is one of the most ancient reproductions of a cat. And Sainte- Beuve, whose cat used to roam at will over his desk and sit or lie on the precious manuscripts no other person was allowed to touch; it is flattering to know that the great Frenchman and I have one habit in common; and Miss Repplier owns to it too. “ But Sainte-Beuve,” says she, “probably had sufficient space reserved for his own comfort and convenience. I have not; and Agrippina’s beautifully ringed tail flapping across my copy distracts my attention and imperils the neatness of my penmanship.” And even as I write these pages, does the Pretty Lady’s daughter Jane lie on my copy and gaze lovingly at me as I work. Julian Hawthorne is another writer whose cat is an accompaniment of his working hours. In this con- nection we must not forget M. Brasseur Wirtgen, a student of natural history who writes of his cat: “ My habit of reading,” he says, “which divided us from each other in our respective thoughts, prejudiced my cat very strongly against my books. Sometimes her 109 Concerning Cats little head would project its profile on the page which I was perusing, as though she were trying to dis- cover what it was that thus absorbed me: doubtless, she did not understand why I should look for my happiness beyond the presence of a devoted heart. Her solicitude was no less manifest when she brought me rats or mice. She acted in this case exactly as if I had been her son: dragging enormous rats, still in the throes of death, to my feet: and she was evi- dently guided by logic in offering me a prey com- mensurate with my size, for she never presented any such large game to her kittens. Her affectionate attention invariably caused her a severe disappoint- ment. Having laid the product of her hunting expe- dition at my feet, she would appear to be greatly hurt by my indifference to such delicious fare.” That Tasso had a cat we know because he wrote a sonnet to her. Alfred de Musset’s cats are apos- trophized in his verses. Dr. Johnson’s Hodge held a soft place for many years in the gruff old scholar’s breast. And has not every one heard how the famous Dr. Johnson fetched oysters for his beloved Hodge, lest the servants should object to the trouble, and vent their displeasure on his favorite ? Nor can one forget Sir Isaac Newton and his cats: for is it not alleged that the great man had two holes cut in his barn door, one for the mother, and a smaller one for the kitten ? Byron was fond of cats: in his establishment at IIo all owned by Miss cat; Lucy C, wonderful blue shade 1, Cherie: 3. Beauty Belle: 5323 Madison Avenue, Chicago, Lord Humm: brown tabby ; Johnstone, Concerning Some Historic Cats Ravenna he had five of them. Daniel Maclise’s famous portrait of Harriet Martineau represents that estimable woman sitting in front of a fireplace and turning her face to receive the caress of her pet cat crawling to a resting-place upon her mistress’s shoulder. Although La Fontaine in his fables shows such a delicate appreciation of their character and ways, it is doubtful whether he honestly loved cats. But his friend and patron, the Duchess of Bouillon, was so devoted to them that she requested the poet to make her a copy with his own hand of all his fables in which pussy appears. The exercise-book in which they were written was discovered a few years ago among the Bouillon papers. Baudelaire, it is said, could never pass a cat in the street without stopping to stroke and fondle it. “Many a time,” said Champfleury, “when he and I have been walking together, have we stopped to look at a cat curled luxuriously in a pile of fresh white linen, revelling in the cleanliness of the newly ironed fabrics. Into what fits of contemplation have we fallen before such windows, while the coquettish laun- dresses struck attitudes at the ironing boards, under the mistaken impression that we were admiring them.” It was also related of Baudelaire that, “‘ go- ing for the first time to a house, he is restless and uneasy until he has seen the household cat. But when he sees it, he takes it up, kisses and strokes it, Til Concerning Cats and is so completely absorbed in it, that he makes no answer to what is said to him.” Professor Huxley’s notorious fondness for cats was a fad which he shared with Paul de Koch, the novelist, who, at one time, kept as many as thirty cats in his house. Many descriptions of them are to be found scattered through his novels. His chief favorite, Fromentin, lived eleven years with him. Pierre Loti has written a charming and most touching history of two of his cats— Moumette Blanche and Moumette Chinoise—which all true cat-lovers should make a point of reading. Algernon Swinburne, the poet, is devoted to cats. His favorite is named Atossa. Robert Southey was an ardent lover of cats. Most people have read his letter to his friend Bedford, announcing the death of one. “ Alas, Grosvenor,” he wrote, “this day poor Rumpel was found dead, after as long and happy a life as cat could wish for, if cats form wishes on that subject. His full titles were: The Most Noble, the Archduke Rumpelstiltzchen, Marcus Macbum, Earl Tomlefnagne, Baron Raticide, Waowhler and Scratch. There should be a court-mourning in Catland, and if the Dragon (your pet cat) wear a black ribbon round his neck, or a band of crape a@ /a militaire round one of his fore paws it will be but a becoming mark of respect.” Then the poet-laureate adds, “I believe we are each and all, servants included, more sorry 112 Concerning Some Historic Cats for his loss, or, rather, more affected by it, than any of us would like to confess.” Josh Billings called his favorite cat William, be- cause he considered no shorter name fitted to the dignity of his character. “Poor old man,” he re- marked one day, to a friend, “he has fits now, so I call him Fitz-William.” 113 CHAPTER VI CONCERNING CATS IN ENGLAND F the growing fancy for cats in this country is benefiting the feline race as a whole, they have to thank the English people for it. For certain cats in England are held at a value that seems preposter- ous to unsophisticated Americans. At one cat and. bird show, held at the Crystal Palace, near London, some of the cats were valued at thirty-five hundred pounds sterling ($17,500)— as much as the price of a first-class race-horse. For more than a quarter of a century National Cat Shows have been held at Crystal Palace and the Westminster Aquarium, which have given great stim- ulus to the breeding of fine cats, and “catteries” where high-priced cats and kittens are raised are common throughout the country. England was the first, too, to care for lost and deserted cats and dogs. At Battersea there is a Temporary Home for both these unfortunates, where between twenty and twenty-five thousand dogs and cats are sheltered and fed. The objects of this home, which is supported entirely by voluntary sub- scriptions, are to restore lost pets to their owners, to ig Concerning Cats in England find suitable homes for unclaimed cats and dogs, and to painlessly destroy useless and diseased ones. There is a commodious cat’s house where pets may be boarded during their owner’s absence; and a sepa- rate house where lost and deserted felines are shel- tered, fed, and kindly tended. Since long before Whittington became Lord Mayor of London, indeed, cats have been popular in Eng- land: for did not the law protect them? As to the truth of the story of Whittington’s cat, there has been much earnest discussion. Although Whitting- ton lived from about 1360 to 1425, the story seems to have been pretty generally accepted for three hun- dred years after his death. A portrait still exists of him, with one hand holding a cat, and when his old house was remodelled in recent times, a carved stone was found in it showing a boy with a cat in his arms. Several similar tales have been found, it is argued, in which the heroes in different countries have started to make a fortune by selling a cat. But as rats and mice were extremely common then, and it has been shown that a single pair of rats will in three years multiply into over six hundred thousand, which will eat as much as sixty-four thousand men, why shouldn’t a cat be deemed a luxury even for a king’s palace? The argument that the cat of Whittington was a “cat,” or boat used for carrying coal, is dis- proved by the fact that no account of such vessels in Whittington’s time can be found, and also that the 115 Concerning Cats trade in coal did not begin in Europe for some time afterward. And there really seems nothing improb- able in the story that at a time when a kitten big enough to kill mice brought fourpence in England, such an animal, taken to a rat-infested, catless coun- try, might not be sold for a sum large enough to start an enterprising youth in trade. Surely, the beginnings of some of our own railroad kings and financiers may as well look doubtful to future gen- erations. It is a pretty story — that of Whittington; how he rose from being a mere scullion at fourteen, to being “thrice Lord Mayor of London.” According to what are claimed to be authentic documents, the story is something more than a nursery tale, and runs thus: Poor Dick Whittington was born at Shrop- shire, of such very poor parents that the boy, being of an ambitious nature, left home at fourteen, and walked to London, where he was taken into the hos- pital of St. John at Clerkenwell, in a menial capacity. The prior, noticing his good behavior and diligent conduct, took a fancy to him, and obtained him a position in a Mr. Fitzwarren’s household on Tower Hill. For some time at this place his prospects did not improve; he was nothing but a scullion, ridiculed and disliked by the cook and other servants. Add to this the fact that an incredible swarm of mice and rats infested the miserable room in which he slept, and it would seem that he was indeed a “poor Rich- 116 ‘ Concerning Cats in England ard.” One fortunate day, however, he conceived the idea of buying a cat, and as good luck would have it, he was enabled within a few days to earn a penny or two by blacking the boots of a guest at the house. That day he met a woman with a cat for sale, and after some dickering (for she asked more money for it than the boy possessed in the world), Dick Whit- tington carried home his cat and put it in a cupboard or closet opening from his room. That night when he retired he let the cat out of the cupboard, and she evidently had “no end of fun’’; for, according to these authentic accounts, “she destroyed all the ver- min which ventured to make their appearance.” For some time after that she passed her days in the cupboard (in hiding from the cook) and her nights in catching mice. And then came the change. Mr. Fitzwarren was fitting out a vessel for Algiers, and kindly offered all his servants a chance to send something to barter with the natives. Poor Dick had nothing but his cat, but the commercial instinct was even then strong within him, and with an enterprise worthy of the early efforts of any of our self-made men, he decided to send that, and accordingly placed it, “ while the tears run plenti- fully down his cheeks,” in the hands of the master of the vessel. She must have been a most exemplary cat, for by the time they had reached Algiers, the captain was so fond of her that he allowed no one to handle her but himself. Not even he, however, ex- 117 Concerning Cats pected to turn her into money ; but the opportunity soon came. At a state banquet, given by the Dey, the captain and his officers were astonished to notice that rats and mice ran freely in and out, stealing half the choice food, which was spread on the carpet; and this was a common, every-day occurrence. The captain saw his, or Whittington’s, opportunity, and stated that he knew a certain remedy for this state of affairs ; whereupon he was invited to dinner next day, to which he carried the cat, and the natural consequence en- sued. This sudden and swift extermination of the pests drove the Dey and his court half frantic with delight; and the captain, who must have been the original progenitor of the Yankee race, drove a sharp bargain by assuming to be unwilling to part with the cat, so that the Dey finally “sent on board his ship the choicest commodities, consisting of gold, jewels, and silks.” Meanwhile, things had gone from bad to worse with the youth, destined to become not only Lord Mayor of London, but the envy and admiration of future generations of youths; and he made up his mind to run away from his place. This he did, but while he was on his way to more rural scenes, he sat down on a stone at the foot of Highgate Hill (a stone that still remains marked as “ Whittington’s Stone”) and paused to reflect on his prospects. His thoughts turned back to the home he had left, where he had 118 . Topso of Dingley, winner of many first prizes at the Crystal Palace shows: owned by Miss Leake, Reading, England. 2. Blue Boy: prize winner owned by Madame E. Portier, Pall Mall, London. Concerning Cats in England at least plenty to eat, and, although the “authentic Teports”” use a great many words to tell us so, the boy was homesick. Just then the sound of Bow Bells reached him, and to his youthful fancy seemed to call him back : — “Return, return, Whittington ; Thrice Lord Mayor of London.” Thus the old tale hath it. At any rate, the boy gave up the idea of flight and went back to Mr. Fitz- warren’s house. The second night after, his master sent for him in the midst of one of the cook's tirades, and going to the “parlour” he was apprised of his sudden wealth ; because, added to the rest of his good luck, that captain happened to be an honest man. And then he went into trade and married the daugh- ter of Mr. Fitzwarren and became Lord Mayor of London, and lived even happier ever after than they do in most fairy tales. And everybody, even the cook, admired and loved him after he had money and position, as has been known to happen outside of fairy tales. Whether or not cats in England owe anything of their position to-day to the Whittington story, it is certain that they have more really appreciating friends there than in any other country. The older we grow in the refinements of civilization, the more we value the finely bred cat. In England it has long been the custom to register the pedigree of cats as carefully as 119 Concerning Cats dog-fanciers in this country do with their fancy pets. Some account of the Cat Club Stud Book and Register will be found in the next chapter. Queen Victoria, and the Princess of Wales, and indeed many members of the nobility are cat-lovers, and doubtless this fact influences the general sentiment in Eng- land. Among the most devoted of Pussy’s English admirers is the Hon. Mrs. McLaren Morrison, who is the happy possessor of some of the most perfect dogs and cats that have graced the bench. She lives at Kepwick Park, in her stately home in Yorkshire— a lovely spot, commanding a delightful view of pic- turesque Westmoreland on one side and on the other three surrounded and sheltered by hills and moors. Some of her pets go with her, however, to her flat in Queen Anne’s Mansions, and even to her residence in Calcutta. Itis at Kepwick Park that Mrs. McLaren Morrison has her celebrated “catteries.” Here there are magnificent blue, black and silver and red Persians; snowy white, blue-eyed beauties; grandly marked English tabbies; handsome blue Russians, with their gleaming yellow-topaz eyes; some Chinese cats, with their long, edge-shaped heads, bright golden eyes, and shiny, short-haired black fur; and a pair of Japanese pussies, pure white and absolutely without tails. One of the handsomest specimens of the feline race ever seen is her blue Persian, Champion Monarch, who, as a kitten in 1893, won the gold medal at the 120 Concerning Cats in England Crystal Palace given for the best pair of kittens in the show, and the next year the Beresford Challenge Cup at Cruft’s Show, for the best long-haired cat, besides taking many other honors. Among other well-known prize winners are the champions Snow- ball and Forget-me-not, both pure white, with lovely turquc‘se-blue eyes. Of Champion Nizam (now dead) that well-known English authority on cats, Mr. A. A. Clark, said his was the grandest head of any cat he had ever seen. Nizam was a perfect specimen of that rare and delicate breed of cats, a pure chinchilla. The numberless kittens sporting all day long are worthy of the art of Madame Henti- ette Ronner, and one could linger for hours in these delightful and most comfortable catteries watching their gambols. The gentle mistress of this fair and most interesting domain, the Hon. Mrs. McLaren Morrison herself, is one of the most attractive and fascinating women of the day—one who adds to great personal beauty all the charm of mental culture and much travel. She has made Kepwick Park a veritable House Beautiful with the rare curios and art treasures collected with her perfect taste in the many lands she has visited, and it is as interesting and enjoyable toa virtuoso as it is to an animal lover. Mrs. McLaren Morrison exhibits at all the cat shows, often entering as many as twenty-five cats. Other English ladies who exhibit largely are Mrs. Herring, of Lestock House, and Miss Cockburn Dickinson, of 121 Concerning Cats Surrey. Mrs. Herring’s Champion Jimmy is very well known as a first prize-winner in many shows. He is a short-haired, exquisitely marked silver tabby val- ued at two thousand pounds ($10,000). Another feline celebrity also well known to fre- quenters of English cat shows, is Madame L. Portier’s magnificent and colossal Blue Boy, whose first appear- ance into this world was made on the day sacred to St. Patrick, 1895. He has a fine pedigree, and was raised by Madame Portier herself. Blue Boy com- menced his career as a show cat, or rather kitten, at three months old, when he was awarded a first prize, and when the judge told his mistress that if he ful- filled his early promise he would make a grand cat. This he has done, and is now one of the finest specimens of his kind in England. He weighs over seventeen pounds, and always has affixed to his cage on the show-bench this request, “Please do not lift this cat by the neck; he is too heavy.” He has long dark blue fur, with a ruff of a lighter shade and bril- liant topaz eyes. Already Blue Boy has taken many prizes. He is a gelded cat and one of the fortunate cats who have “ Not for Sale” after their names in the show catalogues. To Mrs. C. Hill’s beautiful long-haired Patrick Blue fell the honor, at the Crystal Palace Show in 1896, of a signed and framed photograph of the Prince of Wales, presented by his Royal Highness for the best long-haired cat in the show, irrespective 122 Concerning Cats in England of sex or nationality. Besides the prize given by the Prince, Patrick Blue was the proud winner of the Beresford Challenge Cup for the best blue long- haired cat, and the India Silver Bowl for the best Persian. He also was born on St. Patrick’s Day, hence his name. He was bred by Mrs. Blair Maco- nochie, his father, Blue Ruin I, being a celebrated gold medallist. His mother, Sylvia, who belongs to Mrs. Maconochie, has never been shown, her strong point being her lovely color, which is most happily reproduced in her perfect son. Patrick Blue has all the many charms of a petted cat, and was undoubt- edly one of the prominent attractions of the first Championship Show of the National Cat Club in 1896. Silver Lambkin is another very famous English cat, owned by Miss Gresham, of Surrey. Princess Ranee, owned by Miss Freeland, of Mottisfont, near Romney ; Champion Southsea Hector, owned by Miss Sangster, at Southsea; champions Prince Victor and Shelly, of Kingswood (both of whom have taken no end of prizes), are other famous English cats. Topso, a magnificent silver tabby male, belonging to Miss Anderson Leake, of Dingley Hill, was at one time the best long-haired silver tabby in England, and took the prize on that account in 1887; his sons, daughters, grandsons, and granddaughters, have all taken prizes at Crystal Palace in the silver tabby classes, since that time. 123 Concerning Cats Lady Marcus Beresford has for the last fifteen years made quite a business of the breeding and rear- ing of cats. At Bishopsgate, near Egham, she has what is without doubt the finest cattery. “I have applications from all parts of the world for my cats and kittens,” said Lady Marcus, in a talk about her hobby, “and I may tell you that it is largely because of this that I founded the Cat Club, which has for its object the general welfare of the cat and the improve- ment of the breed. My catteries were established in 1890, and at one time I had as many as 150 cats and kittens. Some of my pets live in a pretty cottage covered with creepers, which might well be called Cat Cottage. No expense has been spared in the fittings of the rooms, and every provision is made for warmth and ventilation. One room is set apart for the girl who takes entire charge of and feeds the pussies. She has a boy who works with her and per- forms the rougher tasks. There is a small kitchen for cooking the meals for the cats, and this is fitted with every requisite. On the walls are racks to hold the white enamelled bowls and plates used for the food. There is a medicine chest, which con- tains everything that is needful for prompt and effi- cacious treatment in case pussy becomes sick. On the wall are a list of the names and a full description of all the inmates of the cattery, and a set of rules to be observed by both the cats and their attendants. These rules are not ignored, and it is a tribute to the 124 Concerning Cats in England intelligence of the cat to see how carefully pussy can become amenable to discipline, if once given to under- stand of what that discipline consists. “Then there is a garden cattery. I think this is the prettiest of all. It is covered with roses and ivy. In this there are three rooms, provided with shelves and all other conveniences which can add to the cats’ comfort and amusement. The residences of the male cats are most complete, for I have given them every attention possible. Each male cat has his separate sleeping apartments, closed with wire and with a ‘run’ attached. Close at hand is a large, square grass ‘run,’ and in this each gentleman takes his daily but solitary exercise. One of the stringent rules of the cattery is that no two males shall ever be left together, and I know that with my cats if this rule were not observed, both in letter and precept, it would be a case of ‘when Greek meets Greek.’ “I vary the food for my cats as much as possible. One day we will have most appetizing bowls of fish and rice. At the proper time you can see these standing in the cat kitchen ready to be distributed. Another day these bowls will be filled with minced meat. In the very hot weather a good deal of vege- table matter is mixed with the food. Swiss milk is given, so there is no fear of its turning sour. For some time I have kept a goat on the premises, the milk from which is given to the delicate or younger kittens. 125 Concerning Cats “T have started many of my poorer friends in cat breeding, and they have proved conclusively how easily an addition to their income can be made, not only by breeding good Persian kittens and selling them, but by exhibiting them at the various shows and taking prizes. But of course there is a fashion in cats, as in everything else. When I started breed- ing blue Persians about fifteen years ago they were very scarce, and I could easily get twenty-five dollars apiece for my kittens. Now this variety is less sought after, and self-silvers, commonly called chin- chillas, are in demand.” 126 1. King Max, pure black, valued at $1500: owned by Mrs. E. R. Taylor, Medford, Mass. 2. Taffy, buff and white: owned by Miss Nella B. Wheatley, Chicago. CHAPTER VII CONCERNING CAT CLUBS AND CAT SHOWS HE annual cat shows in England, which have been held successively for more than a quarter of a century, led to the establishment in 1887 of a National Cat Club, which has steadily grown in mem- bership and interest, and by the establishment of the National Stud Book and Register has greatly raised the standard of felines in the mother country. It has many well-known people as members, life mem- bers, or associates; and from time to time people distinguished in the cat world have been added as honorary members. The officers of the National Cat Club of Eng- land, since its reconstruction in March, 1898, are as follows: — Presidents. — Her Grace the Duchess of Bedford; Lord Mar- cus Beresford. Vice-presidents. — Lily, Duchess of Marlborough, now Lady Wm. Beresford; the Countess of Warwick; Lady Granville Gordon; Hon. Mrs. McL. Morrison; Madame Ronner; Mr. Isaac Woodiwiss; the Countess of Sefton; Lady Hothfield; the Hon. Mrs. Brett; Mr. Sam Woodiwiss; Mr. H. W. Bullock. President of Committee. — Mr. Louis Wain. 127 Concerning Cats Committee. — Lady Marcus Beresford; Mrs. Balding; Mr Sidney Woodiwiss; Mr. Hawkins; Mrs. Blair Maconochie; Mrs. Vallance; Mr. Brackett; Mr. F. Gresham. Hon. Secretary and Hon. Treasurer.—Mrs. Stennard Robinson. This club has a seal and a motto: “ Beauty lives by kindness.” It publishes a stud book in which are registered pedigrees and championship wins which are eligible for it. Only wins obtained from shows held under N. C. C. rules are recorded free of charge. The fee for ordinary registration is one shilling per cat, and the stud book is published annu- ally. There are over two thousand cats now entered in this National Cat Club Stud Book, the form of entry being as follows (L. F. means long-haired female; C. P., Crystal Palace): — No. 1593, Mimidatzi, L. F. Silver Tabby. Miss Anna F. Gardner, Hamswell House, near Bath, shown as Mimi. Bred by Miss How, Bridgeyate, near Bristol. Born April, 1893. Alive. Sire, Blue Boy the Great of Islington, 1090 (Mrs H. B. Thompson). Dam, Boots of Bridgeyate, 1225 (Miss How). Prizes won — Ist Bilton, 2nd, C. P. 1893, Kitten Class. No. 1225, Boots of Bridgeyate. L. F. Silver Tabby. Miss E. How, Bridgeyate House, Warmly, Bristol. Former owner, Mrs. Foote, 43 Palace Gardens, Kensington. Born March, 1892. Alive. 128 Concerning Cat Clubs and Cat Shows Some of the cats entered have records of prizes covering nearly half a page of the book. The advan- tage of such a book to cat owners can be readily seen. A cat once entered never changes its number, no matter how many owners he may have, and his name cannot be changed after December 31 of the year in which he is registered. The more important rules of the English National Cat Club are given in condensed form as follows: — The name is “ The National Cat Club.” Oujects: To promote honesty in the breeding of cats, so as to insure purity in each distinct breed or variety ; to determine the classification required, and to insure the adoption of such classification by breeders, exhibitors, judges, and the committees of all cat shows; to encourage showing and breeding by giving championship and other prizes, and other- wise doing all in its power to protect and advance the interest of cats and their owners. The National Cat Club shall frame a separate set of rules for cat shows to be called “National Cat Club Rules,” and the committees of those cat shows to which the rules are given, shall be called upon to sign a guarantee to the National Cat Club binding them to provide good penning and effectual sanitation, also to the punctual payment of prize money and to the proper adjudica- tion of prizes. Stud Book: The National Cat Club shall keep a stud book. 129 Concerning Cats The club shall consist of (1) patrons, (2) life mem. bers, (3) president, (4) vice-presidents, (5) exhibit- ing members and (6) non-exhibiting members, an unlimited number whose names and addresses shall be kept by the honorable secretary. Each candi- date for election shall be proposed by one member and seconded by another, and the election shall be vested absolutely in the committee. The fee for each member shall be one guinea. Life members may be elected on the cash payment of eight guineas. No member whose subscription is unpaid shall be entitled to compete for any special prize, vote at any meeting, or enjoy any of the privileges of mem- ‘bership, until his or her subscription be paid. Every member shall strive to promote honorable dealing in feline matters by bringing to the notice of the club committee any apparent dishonesty at cat shows, etc. Every member to report the careless- ness of the club attendant, etc., and to use his or her best endeavors to promote the success of the club by keeping “accuracy in pedigree and statements, and good faith in all his or her transactions.” The committee shall endeavor to found a Library of Kennel Reference for the National Cat Club, and all members are invited to contribute gifts of books relating to cats, etc. The cat-show rules, under which all shows con- nected with the N.C. C. are given, provide that no cats shall be shown, except in ‘‘ Local Classes” or for 130 Concerning Cat Clubs and Cat Shows litters of kittens, except such as have been previously registered at the Cat Club offices. Neuter (gelded) or spayed cats are allowed te compete for prizes, but are not eligible for entry on the stud book. A duly qualified veterinary surgeon is appointed at every show to act as inspector, who examines every cat before it is benched, and rejects any that exhibit any sign of disease. : The N.C. C. keeps a “black list.” People eligi- ble for this have been guilty, as members or other- wise, of fraudulent or discreditable conduct in regard to cats and cat shows, and are not countenanced by the N. C. C. in any capacity. All prizes won are recorded in the stud book. The other rules do not differ materially from the rules of cat shows in this country. The offices of the National Cat Club are at 5 Great James Street, Bedford Row, London, W. C., and the annual and championship shows have so far been held at the Crystal Palace. There is also a Ladies’ Kennel Association, which holds shows of great interest, many of its members being connected with the N. C. C. The definition of classes, both in England and America, is as follows: — Open Classes.— Open to cats, prize winners or novices. Novice Classes.—Open to cats of any age that have never won a prize. 131 Concerning Cats Neuter Classes. —For gelded cats. Kitten Classes. —Single entries over three and under eight months. Kitten Brace. — Kittens of any age. Brace. —F¥ or two cats of any age. Team. —For three or more cats, any age. In Paris, although cats have not been commonly appreciated as in England, there is an increasing interest in them, and cat shows are now a regular feature of the Jardin d’Acclimation. This suggests the subject of the cat’s social position in France. Since the Revolution the animal has conquered in this country “toutes les liberties,” excepting that of wearing an entire tail, for in many districts it is the fashion to cut the caudal appendage short. In Paris cats are much cherished wherever they can be without causing too much unpleasantness with the landlord. The system of living in flats is not favorable to cat culture, for the animal, no. hav- ing access either to the tiles above or to the gutter below, is apt to pine for fresh air, and the society of its congeners. Probably in no other city do these creatures lie in shop windows and on counters with such an arrogant air of proprietorship. In restau- rants, a very large and fat cat is kept as an aavertise- ment of the good feeding to be obtained on the premises. There is invariably a cat in a charbonnier’s shop, and the animal is generally one that was originally white, but long ago came to the conclusion 132 Concerning Cat Clubs and Cat Shows that all attempts to keep itself clean were hopeless. Its only consolation is that it is never blacker than its master. It is well known that the Persians and Angoras are much esteemed in Paris and are, to some extent, bred for sale. In the provinces, French cats are usually low-bred animals, with plebeian heads and tails, the stringlike appearance of the latter not being improved by cropping. Although not gener- ally esteemed as an article of food in France, there are still many people scattered throughout the country who maintain that a civet de chat is as good, or better, than a civet de livre. M. Francois Coppée’s fondness for cats as pets is so well known that there was great fitness in placing his name first upon the jury of awards at the 1896 cat show in Paris. Such other well-known men as Emile Zola, André Theuriet, and Catulle Mendes, also figured on the list. There is now an annual “ Exposi- tion Feline Internationale.” In this country the first cat show of general interest was held at Madison Square Garden, New York, in May, 1895. Some years before, there had been a cat show under the auspices of private par- ties in Boston, and several minor shows had been held at Newburgh, N. Y., and other places. But the New York shows were the first to attract general attention. One hundred and seventy-six cats were exhibited by one hundred and twenty-five owners, besides several ocelots, wild cats, and civets. For 133 Concerning Cats some reason the show at Madison Square Garden in March, 1896, catalogued only one hundred and thirty-two cats and eighty-two owners. Since that time there have been no large cat shows in New York. There have been several cat shows in Boston since 1896, but these are so far only adjuncts to poultry and pigeon shows. Great interest has been manifest in them, however, and the entries have each year run above a hundred. Some magnificent cats are exhibited, although as a rule the animals shown are somewhat small, many kittens being placed there for sale by breeders. Several attempts to start successful cat clubs in this country have been made. At the close of the New York show in 1896, an American Cat Club was organized for the purpose “of investigating, ascertain- ing, and keeping a record of the pedigrees of cats, and of instituting, maintaining, controlling, and publishing a stud book, or book of registry of such kind of domestic animals in the United States of America and Canada, and of promoting and holding exhibi- tions of such animals, and generally for the purpose of improving the breed thereof, and educating the pub- lic in its knowledge of the various breeds and varieties of cats.” The officers were as follows : — President. — Rush S. Huidekoper, 154 E. 57th St., New York City. 134 Concerning Cat Clubs and Cat Shows Vice-presidents.— W. D. Mann, 208 Fifth Ave., New York City; Mrs. E. N. Barker, Newburgh, N. Y. Secretary-treasurer.— James T. Hyde, 16 E. 23d St., New York City. Executive Committee. —T. Farrar Rackham, E. Orange, N. J.; Miss Edith Newbold, Southampton, L. I.; Mrs. Harriet C. Clarke, 154 W. 82d St., New York City; Charles R. Pratt, St. James Hotel, New York City; Joseph W. Stray, 229 Division St., Brooklyn, N. Y. More successful than this club, however, is the Beresford Cat Club formed in Chicago in the winter of 1899. The president is Mrs. Clinton Locke, who is a member of the English cat clubs, and whose kennel in Chicago contains some of the finest cats in America. The Beresford Cat Club has the sanction of John G. Shortall, of the American Humane Society, and on its honorary list are Miss Agnes Repplier, Madame Ronner, Lady Marcus Beresford, Miss Helen Winslow, and Mr. Louis Wain. At their cat shows, which are held annually, prizes are offered for all classes of cats, from the common feline of the back alley up to the aristocratic resident of milady’s boudoir. The Beresford Club Cat shows are the most suc- cessful of any yet given in America. One hundred and seventy-eight prizes were awarded in the show of January, 1900, and some magnificent cats were shown. It is said by those who are in a position to know that there are no better cats shown in England now than can be seen at the Beresford Show in 135 Concerning Cats Chicago. The exhibits cover short and long haired cats of all colors, sizes, and ages, with Siamese cats, Manx cats, and Russian cats. At the show in January, 1900, Mrs. Clinton Locke exhibited fourteen cats of one color, and Mrs. Josiah Cratty five white cats. This club numbers one hundred and seventy mem- bers and has a social position and consequent strength second to none in America. It is a fine, honorable club, which has for its objects the protection of the Humane Society and the caring for all cats reported as homeless or in distress. It aims also to establish straightforward and honest dealings among the cat- teries and to do away with the humbuggery which pre- vails in some quarters about the sales and valuation of high-bred cats. This club cannot fail to be of great benefit to such as want to carry on an honest industry by the raising and sale of fine cats. It will also improve the breeding of cats in this country, and thereby raise the standard and promote a more gen- eral intelligence among the people with regard to cats. Some of the best people in the United States belong to the Beresford Club, the membership of which is by no means confined to Chicago; on the contrary, the club is a national one and the officers and board of directors are: — President. — Mrs. Clinton Locke. ist Vice-president. —Mrs. W. Eames Colburn. 2d Vice-president. — Mrs. F. A. Howe. Corresponding Secretary. — Mrs. Henry C. Clark. 136 1. Mrs. Clinton Locke, president of the Beresford Cat Club with her imported Persian, Wendell. 2. Mrs. Locke’s Wendella. 3. The Lockehaven Quar- tette, children of Wendella. Concerning Cat Clubs and Cat Shows Recording Secretary. — Miss Lucy Claire Johnstone. Treasurer. — Mrs. Charles Hampton Lane. Mrs. Elwood H. Tolman. Mrs. J. H. Pratt. Mrs. Mattie Fisk Green. Mrs. F. A. Story. Miss Louise L. Fergus. The club is anxious to have members all over the United States, just as the English cat clubs do. The non-resident annual fees are only one dollar, and a member has to be proposed by one and endorsed by two other members. The register cats for the stud book are entered at one dollar each, and it is proposed to give shows once a year. The main objects of the club are to improve the breeds of fancy cats in America, to awaken a more general interest in them, and to secure better treatment for the ordinary com- mon cat. The shows will be given for the benefit of the Humane Society. The Chicago Cat Club has done excellent work also, having established a cat home, or refuge, for stray, homeless, or diseased cats, with a department for boarding pet cats during the absence of their owners. It is under the personal care and direction of Dr. C. A. White, 78 E. 26th Street. The first cat to be admitted there was one from Cleveland, Ohio, which was to be boarded for three months during the absence of its owner in Europe and also to be treated for disease. This club was incorporated 137 Concerning Cats under the state laws of Illinois, on January 26, 1899. In connection with it is a children’s cat club, which has for its primary object the teaching of kind- ness to animals by awakening in the young people an appreciative love for cats. At the show of the Chicago Cat Club, small dogs and cavies are exhibited also, the Cavy Club and the Pet Dog Club having affiliated with the Chicago Cat Club. The president of the Chicago Cat Club is Mrs. Leland Norton, of the Drexel Kennels, at 4011 Drexel Boulevard, Chicago. The corresponding secretary is Mrs. Laura Daunty Pelham, 315 Interocean Building, and the other officers are: Vice-president, Miss Ger- trude Estabrooks; recording secretary, Miss Jennie Van Allen; and treasurer, Mrs. Ella B. Shepard. Mem- bership is only one dollar a year, and the registration fee in the Chicago stud book fifty cents for each cat. The cat shows already held and the flourishing state of our cat clubs have proved that America has as fine, if not finer, cats than can be found in Eng- land, and that interest in finely bred cats is on the increase in this country. The effect of the success- ful cat clubs and cat shows must be to train intelli- gent judges and to raise the standard of cats in this country. It will also tend to make the cat shows of such a character that kind-hearted owners need not hesitate to enter their choicest cats. As yet, how- ever, the judging at cat shows is not so well man- aged as in England. It should be a rule that the 138 Concerning Cat Clubs and Cat Shows judges of cats should not only understand their fine points, but should be in sympathy with the little pets. Cat dealers who have a number of cats entered for competition, should not be allowed on the board of judges. In England, the cats to be judged are taken by classes into a tent for the purpose, and the door is fastened against all but the judges; whereas over here the cats are too often taken out of their cages in the presence of a crowd of spectators and judged on a table or some public place, thereby frightening the timid ones and bringing annoyance to the owners. Again, there should be several judges. In Eng- land there are seven, including two or three women, and these are assigned to different classes: Mr. Har- rison Weir, F.R.H.S., the well-known authority on cats, and Louis Wain, the well-known cat artist, are among them. In this country there are a num- ber of women who are not dealers, but who are fully posted in the necessary qualifications for a high-bred cat. American cat shows should have at least three judges, one of whom, at least, should be a woman. A cat should be handled gently and kept as calm as possible during the judging. Women are naturally more gentle in their methods, and more tender- hearted. When my pets are entered for competi- tion, may some wise, kind woman have the judging of them! 139 Concerning Cats In judging a cat the quality and quantity of its fur is the first thing considered. In a long-haired cat this includes the “lord mayor’s chain,” or frill, the tail, and, most important of all, the ear-tufts. The tufts between the toes and the flexibility of the tail are other important points. The shape of head, eyes, and body are also carefully noted. A short- haired cat is judged first for color, then for eyes, head, symmetry, and ears. In all cats the head should show breadth between the eyes. The eyes should be round and open. White cats to be really valuable should have blue eyes (without deafness); black cats should have yel- low eyes; other cats should have pea-green eyes, or in some cases, as in the brown, self-colored eyes. The nose should be short and tapering. The teeth should be good, and the claws flat. The lower leg should be straight, and the upper hind leg lie at closed angles. The foot should be small and round (in the maltese, pointed). A good cat has a light frame, but a deep chest; a slim, graceful, and fine neck; medium-sized ears with rounded tips. The croup should be square and high; the tail of a short- haired cat long and tapering, and of a long-haired cat broad and bent over at the end. The good results of a cat show are best told in a few words by one who has acted as judge at an American exhibition. ‘One year,” he said, “people have to learn that 140 Concerning Cat Clubs and Cat Shows there is such a thing as a cat; the next they come to the show and learn to tell the different breeds; another year they learn the difference between a good cat and a poor one; and the next year they become exhibitors, and tell the judges how to award the premiums.” 141 CHAPTER VIII CONCERNING HIGH-BRED CATS IN AMERICA NE of the first American women to start a “cattery” in this country was Mrs. Clinton Locke, wife of the rector of Grace Church, Chi- cago. Asaclergyman’s wife she has done a great deal of good among the various charities of her city simply from the income derived from her ken- nels. She has been very generous in gifts of her kittens to other women who have made the raising of fine cats a means to add to a slender income, and has sent beautiful cats all over the United States, to Mex- ico, and even to Germany. Under her hospitable roof at 2825 Indiana Avenue is a cat family of great distinction. First, there is The Beadle, a splendid blue male with amber eyes, whose long pedigree appears in the third volume of the N. C. C. S. B. under the number 1872, sired by Glaucus, and his dam was Hawthorne Bounce. His pedigree is traced for many generations. He was bred by Mrs. Dean of Hawthornedene, Slough, England. The Beadle took first prize at the cat show held in Chi- cagoin 1896. He also had honorable mention at two cat shows in England when a kitten, under the name 142 Fligh-Bred Cats tn America of Bumble Bee. Lord Gwynne is a noble speci- men, a long-haired white cat with wonderful blue eyes. He was bred from Champion Bundle, and his mother was out of The Masher, No. 1027, win- ner of many championships. His former owner was Mrs. Davies, of Upper Cattesham. Mrs. Locke pur- chased him from A. A. Clarke, one of the best judges of cats in England. Lord Gwynne took a prize at the Brighton Cat Show in England in 1895, as a kitten. The father of The Beadle’s mate, Rosalys, was the famous “ Bluebeard.” Mrs. Locke’s chinchillas are the finest ones in this country. Atossa, the mother cat, has a wonderful litter of kittens. She was bred to Lord Argent, one of the three celebrated stud chinchillas in England. She arrived in this country in July, and ten days after gave birth to her foreign kittens. One of the kittens has been sold to Mrs. Dr. Forsheimer, of Cincinnati, and another to Mrs. W. E. Colburn, of South Chicago. The others Mrs. Locke will not part with at any price. Smerdis, the grand chinchilla male brought over as a future mate for Atossa, is a royal cat. He looks as though he had run away from Bengal, but, like all of Mrs. Locke’s cats, he is gentle and loving. He is the son of Lord Southampton, the lightest chinchilla stud in England (N. C. C. S. B. 1690), and his mother is Silver Spray, No. 1542. His maternal grandparents are Silver King and Harebell, and 143 Concerning Cats his great-grandparents Perso and Beauty, — all regis- tered cats. On his father’s side a pedigree of three generations can be traced. One of her more recent importations is Lord Gwynne’s mate, Lady Mertice, a beautiful long-haired cat with blue eyes. Other famous cats of hers have been Bettina, Nora, Doc, Vashti, Marigold, Grover, and Wendell. One of Mrs. Locke’s treasures is a bona fide cat mummy, brought by Mrs. Locke from Egypt. It has been verified at the Gizeh Museum to be four thousand years old. It is fully twenty-five years since Mrs. Locke began to turn her attention to fine cats, and when she im- ported her first cat to Chicago there was only one other in the United States. That one was Mrs. Edwin Brainard’s Madam, a wonderful black, imported from Spain. Her first long-haired cat was Wendell, named for the friend who brought him from Persia, and his descendants are now in the Lockehaven Cattery. Queen Wendella is one of the most famous cats in America to-day, and mother of the beautiful Locke- haven Quartette. These are all descended from the first Wendell. The kittens in the Lockehaven Quartette went to Mrs. S.S. Leach, Bonny Lea, New London, Ct.; Miss Lucy Nichols, Ben Mahr Cattery, Waterbury, Ct.; Miss Olive Watson, Warrensburg, Pa.; and Mrs. B. M. Gladding, at Memphis, Tenn. Mrs. Locke’s Lord Argent, descended from Atossa and the famous Lord Argent, of England, is a magnifi- 144 1. Miss Merrylegs, blue, daughter of Bumble Bee and Sapho; 2. Bumble Bee: both owned by Mrs. M. Fiske Green, Chicago. Hligh-Bred Cats in America cent cat, while her Smerdis is the son of the greatest chinchillas in the world. Rosalys II, now owned by Mr. C. H. Jones, of Palmyra, N. Y., was once her cat, and was the daughter of Rosalys (owned by Miss Nichols, of Waterbury, Ct.), who was a grand- daughter of the famous Bluebeard, of England. These, with the beautiful brown tabby, Crystal, owned by Mr. Jones, have all been prize winners. Lucy Claire is a recent importation, who won second and third prizes in England under the name of Baby Flossie. She is the daughter of Duke of Kent and Topso, of Merevale. Her paternal grandparents are Mrs. Herring’s well-known champion, Blue Jack, and Marney. The maternal grandparents are King Harry, a prize winner at Clifton and Brighton, and Fluff. Mrs. Locke’s cats are all imported. She has some- times purchased cats from Maine or elsewhere for people who did not care to pay the price demanded for her fine kittens, but she has never had in her own cattery any cats of American origin. Her stock, therefore, is probably the choicest in America. She always has from twenty to twenty-five cats, and the cat-lover who obtains one of her kittens is fortunate indeed. A beautiful pair of blacks in Mrs. Locke’s cattery have the most desirable shade of amber eyes, and are named “ Blackbird” and “St. Tudno”; she has also a choice pair of Siamese cats called “Siam” and “Sally Ward.” 145 Concerning Cats Mrs. Josiah Cratty, of Oak Park, has a cattery called the “Jungfrau Katterie,” and her cats are re- markably beautiful. Her Bartimzus and True Blue are magnificent white cats, sired by Mrs. Locke’s Lord Gwynne. Miss L. C. Johnstone, of Chicago, has some of the handsomest cats in the country. Cherie is a wonderful blue shaded cat; Lord Humm is a splen- did brown tabby; while Beauty Belle is an exceed- ingly handsome white cat. Miss Johnstone takes great pains with her cats, and is rewarded by having them rated among the best in America. Some of the beautiful cats which have been sent from Chicago to homes elsewhere are Teddy Roose- velt, a magnificent white, sired by Mrs. W. E. Col- burn’s Paris, and belonging to Mrs. L. Kemp, of Huron, S. Dak.; Silver Dick, a gorgeous buff and white, whose grandmother was Mrs. Colburn’s Caprice, and who is owned by Mrs. Porter L. Evans, of East St. Louis; Toby, a pure white with green eyes, owned by Mrs. Elbert W. Shirk, of Indianapo- lis; and Amytis, a chinchilla belonging to Mrs. S. S. Leach, of New London, sired by Mrs. Locke’s Smerdis, and the daughter of Rosalys II. Miss Cora Wallace, of East Brady, Pa., has Lord Ruffles, son of the first Rosalys and The Beadle, formerly Bumble Bee. Mrs. Fisk Greene, of Chi- cago, now owns a beautiful cat in Bumble Bee, and another in Miss Merrylegs, a blue with golden eyes, 146 Fligh-Bred Cats in America the daughter of Bumble Bee and Black Sapho. The Misses Peacock, of Topeka, have a pair of whites called Prince Hilo and Rosebud, the latter having blue eyes. Mrs. Frederick Monroe, of River- side, Ill., owns a remarkable specimen of a genuine Russian cat, a perfect blue of extraordinary size. Miss Elizabeth Knight, of Milwaukee, has a beauti- ful silver tabby, Winifred, the daughter of Whych- wood, Miss Kate Loraine Gage’s celebrated silver tabby, of Brewster, N.Y. The most perfect “laven- der blue” cat belongs to Miss Lucy E. Nichols, of Waterbury, Ct., and is named Roscal. He has beauti- ful long fur, with a splendid ruff and tail, and is a son of Rosalys and The Beadle. Mrs. Leland Norton has a number of magnificent cats. It was she who adopted Miss Frances Wil- lard’s “ Tootsie,” the famous cat which made two thousand dollars for the temperance cause. Miss Nella B. Wheatley has very fine kennels, and raises some beautiful cats. Her Taffy is a beautiful buff and white Angora, which has been very much admired. Her cats have been sold to go to many other cities. Speaking from her own experience Miss Wheatley says, “Raising Angoras is one of the most fasci- nating of employments, and I have found, when properly taken care of, they are among the most beautiful, strong, intelligent, and playful of all animals.” Mrs. W. E. Colburn is another very successful 147 Concerning Cats owner of cat kennels. She has had some of the handsomest cats in this country, among which are “ Paris,” a magnificent white cat with blue eyes, and his mother, “Caprice,” who has borne a number of wonderfully fine pure white Angoras with the most approved shade of blue eyes. Her cattery is known as the “Calumet Kennel,’ and there is no better judge of cats in the country than Mrs. Colburn. So much has been said of the cats which were “mascots” on the ships during the Cuban War that it is hardly necessary to speak of them. Tom, the mascot of the Maine, and Christobal have been shown in several cities of the Union since the war. The most beautiful collection of brown tabbies is owned by Mr. C. H. Jones, of Palmyra, N. Y., who has the “Crystal Cattery.” Crystal, the son of Mrs. E. M. Barker’s “King Humbert,” is the champion brown tabby of America, and is a magnificent crea- ture, of excellent disposition and greatly admired by cat fanciers everywhere. Mona Liza, his mate, and Goozie and Bubbles make up as handsome a quartet of this variety as one could wish to see. Goozie’s tail is now over twelve inches in circumference. Mr. Jones keeps about twenty fine cats in stock all the time. The most highly valued cat in America is Napo- leon the Great, whose owner has refused four thou- sand dollars for him. A magnificent fellow he is too, with his bushy orange fur and lionlike head. He is 148 Fligh-Bred Cats in America ten years old and weighs twenty-three pounds, which is a remarkable weight in a male cat, only gelded ones ordinarily running above fifteen pounds. Napoleon was bred by a French nobleman, and was born at the Chateau Fontainebleau, near Paris, in 1888. Heisa pure French Angora, which is shown by his long crinkly hair—so long that it has to be frequently clipped to preserve the health and comfort of the beau- tiful creature. This clipping is what causes the un- even quality of fur which appears in his picture. His mother was a famous cat, and his grandmother was one of the grandest dams of France (no pun in- tended). The latter lived to be nineteen years old, and consequently Napoleon the Great is regarded by his owners as a mere youth. He has taken first prizes and medals wherever he has been exhibited, and at Boston, 1897, won the silver cup offered for the best cat in the exhibition. Another fine cat belonging to Mrs. Weed, is Mar- guerite, mother of Le Noir, a beautiful black An- gora, sired by Napoleon the Great and owned by Mrs. Weed. Juno is Napoleon’s daughter, born in 1894, and is valued at fifteen hundred dollars. When she was seven months old her owners refused two hundred dollars for her. She is a tortoise-shell and white French Angora, and a remarkably beautiful creature. All these cats are great pets, and are al- lowed the freedom of the house and barns, although when they run about the grounds there is always a 149 Concerning Cats man in attendance. Six or seven thousand dollars’ worth of cats sporting on the lawn together is a rich sight, but not altogether without risk. Mrs. Fabius M. Clarke’s “ Persia,” a beautiful dark chinchilla, is one of the finest cats in this country. She began her career by taking special and first prizes at Fastmay’s Cat Show in England, as the best long-haired kitten. She also took the first prize as a kitten at Lancashire, and at the National Cat Show in New York in 1895. She was bred in Eng- land; sire, King of Uhn; dam, Brunette, of pure imported Persian stock. Mrs. Clarke brought her home in January, 1895, and she is still worshipped as a family pet at her New York home. ‘“Sylvio” was also brought over at the same time. He was a beau- tiful long-haired male silver tabby, and bred by Mrs. A. F. Gardner. Sylvio was sired by the famous Topso of Dingley (owned by Miss Leake), famous as the best long-haired tabby in England. Sylvio’s mother was Mimidatzi, whose pedigree is given in the previous chapter. ‘“ Mimi’s” sire was the cham- pion Blue Boy the Great, whose mother was Boots of Bridgeyate, whose pedigree is also given in the extract from the stud book. Sylvio took a first prize at the New York Show, 1895, but unfortunately was poisoned before he was a year old. This seems the greater pity, because he had a remarkably fine pedi- gree, and gave promise of being one of the best cats America has yet seen. 150 1. Mustapha: Persian cat, owned by Dr. R. S. Huidekoper, New York. 2. Napoleon the Great: imported French Angora, owned by Mrs. Charles Weed, Woodhaven, N.Y. Value, $5000. High-Bred Cats in America Persia is a handsome specimen of the fine blue chinchilla class. She is quiet, amiable, and shows her high breeding in her good manners and intelligence. Her tail is like a fox’s brush, and her ruff gladdens the heart of every cat fancier that beholds her. She is an aristocratic little creature, and seems to feel that she comes of famous foreign ancestry. Mrs. Clarke makes great pets of her beautiful cats, and trains them to do many a cunning trick. Another cat which has won several prizes, and took the silver bowl offered for the best cat and litter of kittens in the 1895 cat show of New York is Ellen Terry, a handsome orange and white, exhibited by Mrs. Fabius M. Clarke. At that show she had seven beautiful kittens, and they all reposed in a dainty white and yellow basket with the mother, delighting the hearts of all beholders. She now be- longs to Mrs. Brian Brown, of Brooklyn. She is a well-bred animal, with a pretty face and fine feather- ing. One of the kittens who won the silver bowl in 1895 took the second prize for long-haired white female in New York, in March, 1896. She is a beautiful creature, known as Princess Dinazarde, and belongs to Mrs. James S. H. Umsted, of New York. Sylvia is still in Mrs. Clarke’s possession, and is a beautiful creature, dainty, refined, and very jealous of her mistress’s affection. Mrs. Clarke also owns a real Manx cat, brought from the Isle of Man by Captain McKenzie. It acts like a monkey, climbing Ist Concerning Cats up on mantels and throwing down pictures and other small objects, in the regular monkey spirit of mischief. It has many queer attributes, and hops about like a rabbit. She also owns Sapho, who was bred by Ella Wheeler Wilcox from her Madame Ref and Mr. Stevens’s Ajax, an uncommonly handsome white Angora. The sire of Topso and Sylvia was Musjah, owned by Mr. Ferdinand Danton, a New York artist. He was a magnificent creature, imported from Algiers in 1894; a pure blue Persian of uncommon size and beautiful coloring. Musjah was valued at two hun- dred dollars, but has been stolen from Mr. Danton. Probably his present owner will not exhibit him at future cat shows. Ajax is one of the finest white Angoras in this country. His owner, Mr. D. W. Stevens, of West- field, Mass., has refused five hundred dollars for him, and would not consider one thousand dollars as a fair exchange for the majestic creature. He was born in 1893, and is valued, not only for his fine points, but because he is a family pet, with a fine disposition and uncommon intelligence. At the New York show in 1895, and at several other shows, he has won first prizes. One of his sons bids fair to be as fine a cat as Ajax. This is Sampson, bred by Ella Wheeler Wilcox, from Madame Ref, and owned by Mrs. Brian Brown. Mr. Stevens has a number of other 152 High-Bred Cats in America high-bred cats, one of whom is Raby, a reddish black female, with a red ruff. Another is Lady, who is pure white; and then there are Monkey and Midget, who are black and white Angoras. All of these cats are kept in a pen, half of which is within the barn, and the other half out of doors and enclosed by wire netting. Ajax roams over the house at will, and the others pass some of the time there, but the entire collection, sometimes number- ing twenty-five, is too valuable to be given the free- dom of all outdoors. Both Mr. and Mrs. Stevens are very fond of cats, and have made a study of them in sickness and health. Some years ago, a malicious raid was made on the pen, and every cat poisoned with the exception of Raby, whose life was saved only by frequent and generous doses of skunk’s oil and milk. At the first New York show, Miss Ethel Nesmith Anderson’s Chico, an imported Persian, took the second prize, after Ajax, in the pure white, long- haired class. The third prize was won by Snow, another imported Angora, belonging to Mr. George A. Rawson, of Newton, Mass. Snow had already taken a prize at Crystal Palace. He is a magnifi- cent animal. Mr. Rawson owns a number of beau- tiful cats, which are the pride of his family, and bring visitors from all parts of the country. His orange- colored, long-haired Dandy won first prizes at the Boston shows of 1896 and 1897 in the gelded class. 153 Concerning Cats He is beautifully marked, and has a disposition as “childlike and bland” as the most exacting owner could wish. Miss Puff is also owned by Mr. Rawson, and presents him with beautiful white Angora kittens every year. The group of ten white kittens, raised by him in 1896, gives some idea of the beauty of these kittens: although the picture was taken with a high wind blowing in their faces, causing one white beauty to conceal all marks of identification except an ear, and another to hide completely behind his playmates. Mustapha was entered by Dr. Huidekoper in the first New York show, but not for competition. He was a magnificent brindled Persian gelded cat, six years old, who enjoyed the plaudits of the multitude just as well as though he had taken first prize. He was very fond of his master, but very shy with strangers when at home. He slept on the library desk, or a cushion next his master’s bed whenever he could be alone with the doctor, but at other times preferred his own company or that of the cook. Another cat that attracted a great deal of attention was Master Pettet’s Tommy, a white Persian, im- ported in 1889 and valued at five hundred dollars, although no money ‘consideration could induce his owners to part with him. He was brought from the interior of Persia, where he was captured in a wild state. He was kept caged for over a year, and would not be tamed; but at last he became domesticated, 154 High-Bred Cats in America and is now one of the dearest pets imaginable. His fur is extremely long and soft, without a colored hair. His tail is broad and carried proudly aloft, curling over toward his back when walking. His face is full of intelligence: his ears well-tipped and feathered, and his ruff a thing of beauty and a joy forever. King Max, a long-haired, black male, weighing thirteen pounds at the age of one year, and valued at one thousand dollars, took first prizes in Boston in January, 1897, ’98, and ’99. He is owned by Mrs. E. R. Taylor, of Medford, Mass., and attracts constant attention during shows. His fur is without a single white hair and is a finger deep; his ruff en- circles his head like a great aureole. He is not only one of the most beautiful cats I have ever seen, but one of the best-natured: as his reputation for beauty spreads among visitors at the show, everybody wants to see him, and he has no chance at all for naps. Generally he is brought forward and taken from his cage a hundred times a day; but not once does he show the least sign of ill-temper, and even on the last day of the show he keeps up a continual low purr of content and happiness. Perhaps he knows how handsome he is. Grover B., the Mascotte, is a Philadelphia cat who took the twenty-five dollar gold medal in 1895, at the New York show, as the heaviest white cat exhibited. He belongs to Mr. and Mrs. W. P. 155 Concerning Cats Buchanan, and weighs over twenty pounds. He is a thoroughbred, and is valued at one thousand dol- lars, having been brought from the Isle of Malta, and he wears a one-hundred-dollar gold collar. He is a remarkable cat, noted particularly for his intelli- gence and amiability. He is very dainty in his choice of food, and prefers to eat his dinners in his high chair at the table. He has a fascinating habit of feeding himself with his paws. He is very talkative just before meal-times, and is versed in all the feline arts of making one’s self understood. He waits at the front door for his master every night, and will not leave him all the evening. He sleeps in a bed of his own, snugly wrapped up in blankets, and he is admired by all who know him, not more for his beauty than for his excellent deportment. He fur- nishes one more proof that a properly trained and well-cared-for cat has a large amount of common sense and appreciation. Mrs. Frances Hodgson Burnett’s tiger cat Dick attracted a great deal of attention at the first New York show. He weighs twenty-two pounds and is three feet long, with a girth of twenty-four inches; and he has attained some degree of prominence in her writings. A trio of cats that were a centre of attraction at that first show belonged to Colonel Mann, of Zown Topics. They were jet black, and rejoiced in the names of Taffy, The Laird, and Little Billee. They 156 High-Bred Cats in America took a first prize, but two of them have since come to an untimely end. Colonel Mann is a devoted lover of animals, and has given a standing order that none of his employees shall, if they see a starving kitten on the street, leave it to suffer and die. Ac- cordingly his office is a sort of refuge for unfortunate cats, and one may always see a number of happy- looking creatures there, who seem to appreciate the kindness which surrounds them. The office is in a fifth story overlooking Fifth Avenue: and the cats used to crawl out on the wide window-ledge in sum- mer-time and enjoy the air and the view of Madison Square. But alas! The Laird and Little Billee came to their deaths by jumping from their high perch after sparrows and falling to the pavement below. Now there is a strong wire grating across the win- dows, and Taffy, a monstrous, shiny black fellow, is the leader in the “Zowz Topics Colony.” Dr. H. L. Hammond, of Killingly, Ct., makes a speciality of the rare Australian cats, and has taken numerous prizes with them at every cat show in this country, where they are universally admired. His Columbia is valued at six hundred dollars, and his Tricksey at five hundred dollars. They are, indeed, beautiful creatures, though somewhat unique in the cat world, as wé see it. They are very sleek cats, with fur so short, glossy, and fine that it looks like the finest satin. Their heads are small and narrow, with noses that seem pointed when compared with 157 Concerning Cats other cats. They are very intelligent and affection- ate little creatures, and make the loveliest of pets. Dr. and Mrs. Hammond are extremely fond of their unusual and valuable cat family, — and tell the most interesting tales of their antics and habits. His Columbia was an imported cat, and the doctor has reason to believe that she with her mate are origi- nally from the Siamese cat imported from Siam to Australia. They are all very delicate as kittens, the mother rarely having more than one at a time. With two exceptions, these cats have never had more than two kittens at a litter. They are very partial to heat, but cannot stand cold weather. They have spells of sleeping when nothing has power to disturb them, but when they do wake up they have a “high time,” running and playing. They are affectionate, being very fond of their owner, but rather shy with strangers. They are uncommonly intelligent, too, and are very teachable when young. They are such beautiful creatures, besides being rare in this part of the world, that it is altogether probable that they will be much sought after as pets. 158 I. Siam, imported Siamese cat: owned by Mrs. Clinton Locke, president of Beresford Cat Club, Chicago; 2. Chom, pure Siamese, son of Siam and Rowdy: owned by Mrs. Cronise, of San Francisco; 3. Tricksey, Aus- tralian cat: owned by Dr. H. L. Hammond, Killingly, Ct. CHAPTER IX CONCERNING CATS IN POETRY S far back as the ninth century, a poem on a cat was written, which has come down to us from the Arabic. Its author was Ibn Alalaf Alna- harwany, of Bagdad, who died in 318 A.H. or A.D. 930. He was one of the better known poets of the khalifate, and his work may still be found in the original. The following verses, which were trans- lated by Dr. Carlyle, are confessedly a paraphrase rather than a strict translation; but, of course, the sense is the same. Commentators differ on the ques- tion as to whether the poet really meant anything more in this poem than to sing of the death of a pet, and some have tried to ascribe to it a hidden mean- ing which implies beautiful slaves, lovers, and assig- nations; just as the wise Browning student discovers meanings in that great poet’s works of which he never dreamed. Nevertheless, we who love cats are fain to believe that this follower of Mahomet meant only to celebrate the merits—perhaps it would hardly do to call them virtues—of his be- loved cat. 159 Concerning Cats The lines are inscribed, — ON A CAT THAT WAS KILLED AS SHE WAS ATTEMPTING TO ROB A DOVE HOUSE BY IBN ALALAF ALNAHARWANY Poor Puss is gone ! —’tis Fate’s decree — Yet I must still her loss deplore; For dearer than a child was she, And ne’er shall I behold her more ! With many a sad, presaging tear, This morn I saw her steal away, While she went on without a fear, Except that she should miss her prey. I saw her to the dove-house climb, With cautious feet and slow she stept, Resolved to balance loss of time By eating faster than she crept. Her subtle foes were on the watch, And marked her course, with fury fraught; And while she hoped the birds to catch, An arrow’s point the huntress caught. In fancy she had got them all, And drunk their blood and sucked their breath; Alas! she only got a fall, And only drank the draught of death. 160 Concerning Cats in Poetry Why, why was pigeon’s flesh so nice, That thoughtless cats should love it thus ? Hadst thou but lived on rats and mice, Thou hadst been living still, poor Puss ! Cursed be the taste, howe’er refined, That prompts us for such joys to wish ; And cursed the dainty where we find Destruction lurking in the dish. Among the poets, Pussy has always found plenty of friends. Her feline grace and softness has inspired some of the greatest, and, from Tasso and Petrarch down, her quiet and dignified demeanor have been celebrated in verse. Mr. Swinburne, within a few years, has written a charming poem which was pub- lished in the Atheneum, and which places the writer among the select inner circle of true cat- lovers. He calls his verses — TO A CAT Stately, kindly, lordly friend, Condescend Here to sit by me, and turn Glorious eyes that smile and burn, Golden eyes, love’s lustrous meed, On the golden page I read. * * * * * * Dogs may fawn on all and some As they come: 161 Concerning Cats You a friend of loftier mind, Answer friends alone in kind. Just your foot upon my hand Softly bids it understand. Thomas Gray’s poem on the death of Robert Wal- pole’s cat, which was drowned in a bowl of goldfish, was greatly prized by the latter; after the death of the poet the bowl was placed on a pedestal at Straw- berry Hill, with a few lines from the poem as an inscription. Ina letter dated March 1, 1747, accom- panying it, Mr. Gray says: — “As one ought to be particularly careful to avoid blunders in a compliment of condolence, it would be a sensible satisfaction to me (before I testify my sor- row and the sincere part I take in your misfortune) to know for certain who it is I lament. [Note the “Who.” ] I knew Zara and Selima (Selima was it, or Fatima?), or rather I knew them both together, for I cannot justly say which was which. Then, as to your handsome cat, the name you distinguish her by, I am no less at a loss, as well knowing one’s handsome cat is always the cat one likes best; or if one be alive and the other dead, it is usually the latter that is the handsomest. Besides, if the point were never so clear, I hope you do not think me so ill bred or so imprudent as to forfeit all my interest in the survivor. Oh, no; I would rather seem to mistake and imagine, to be sure, it must be the tabby one that had met with this sad accident. Till this 162 Concerning Cats in Poetry affair is a little better determined, you will excuse me if I do not cry, ‘Tempus inane peto, requiem, spati- umque doloris.’” He closes the letter by saying, “There’s a poem for you; it is rather too long for an epitaph.” And then the familiar — “? Twas on a lofty vase’s side, Where China’s gayest art had dy’d The azure flowers that blow: Demurest of the tabby kind, The pensive Selima, reclined, Gazed on the lake below.” Wordsworth’s “ Kitten and the Falling Leaves,” is in the high, moralizing style. “That way look, my Infant, lo! What a pretty baby show. See the kitten on the wall, Sporting with the leaves that fall, * * * * * * “But the kitten, how she starts, Crouches, stretches, paws, and darts First at one and then its fellow, Just as light and just as yellow: There are many now — now one, Now they stop, and there are none. What intentness of desire In her upward eye of fire! With a tiger-leap halfway Now she meets the coming prey, 163 jay, and a starling. Concerning Cats Lets it go as fast, and then Has it in her power again: Now she works with three or four. Like an Indian conjuror: Quick as he in feats of art, Far beyond in joy of heart. Were her antics played in the eye Of a thousand standers-by, Clapping hands with shout and stare, What would little Tabby care For the plaudits of the crowd? Over happy to be proud, Over wealthy in the treasure Of her own exceeding pleasure. e * * * * * “Pleased by any random toy: By a kitten’s busy joy, Or an infant’s laughing eye Sharing in the ecstacy: I would fain like that or this Find my wisdom in my bliss: Keep the sprightly soul awake, And have faculties to take, Even from things by sorrow wrought, Matter for a jocund thought, Spite of care and spite of grief, To gambol with life’s falling leaf.” Cowper’s love for animals was well known. time, according to Lady Hesketh, he had besides two dogs, two goldfinches, and two canaries, five rabbits, three hares, two guinea-pigs, a squirrel, a magpie, a In addition he had, at least, one 164 At one 1. Swampscott: fine Maine cat: owned by Mrs. F Everett Smith, Chic 2. King Ormuz: owned by Mrs. B. Cumberland, Dunain, Port Ho Canada; 3. Rex, son of Ajax: owned by Mrs. Fred Everett Smith, Chicago. pe, Concerning Cats in Poetry cat, for Lady Hesketh says, “One evening the cat giving one of the hares a sound box on the ear, the hare ran after her, and having caught her, punished her by drumming on her back with her two feet hard as drumsticks, till the creature would actually have been killed had not Mrs. Unwin rescued her.” It might have been this very cat that was the inspi- ration of Cowper’s poem, “To a Retired Cat,” which had as a moral the familiar stanza: — “ Beware of too sublime a sense Of your own worth and consequence: The man who dreams himself so great And his importance of such weight, That all around, in all that’s done, Must move and act for him alone, Will learn in school of tribulation The folly of his expectation.” Baudelaire wrote : — “Come, beauty, rest upon my loving heart, But cease thy paws’ sharp-nailed play, And let me peer into those eyes that dart Mixed agate and metallic ray. * * * * * * “ Grave scholars and mad lovers all admire And love, and each alike, at his full tide Those suave and puissant cats, the fireside’s pride, Who like the sedentary life and glow of fire.” 165 Concerning Cats Goldsmith also wrote of the kitten :— “ Around in sympathetic mirth Its tricks the kitten tries : The cricket chirrups in the hearth, The crackling fagot flies.” Does this not suggest a charming glimpse of the poet’s English home ? Keats was evidently not acquainted with the best and sleekest pet cat, and his “ Sonnet to a Cat” does not indicate that he fully appreciated their higher qualities. Mr. Whittier, our good Quaker poet, while not attempting an elaborate sonnet or stilted elegiac, shows a most appreciative spirit in the lines he wrote for a little girl who asked him one day, with tears in her eyes, to write an epitaph for her lost Bathsheba. “Bathsheba: To whom none ever said scat, No worthier cat Ever sat on a mat Or caught a rat: Requies-cat.” Clinton Scollard, however, has given us an epitaph that many sympathizing admirers would gladly inscribe on the tombstones of their lost pets, if it were only the popular fashion to put tombstones over their graves. This is Mr. Scollard’s tribute, the best ever written :— 166 Concerning Cats tn Poetry GRIMALKIN AN ELEGY ON PETER, AGED TWELVE In vain the kindly call: in vain The plate for which thou once wast fain At morn and noon and daylight’s wane, O King of mousers. No more I hear thee purr and purr As in the frolic days that were, When thou didst rub thy velvet fur Against my trousers. How empty are the places where Thou erst wert frankly debonair, Nor dreamed a dream of feline care, A capering kitten. The sunny haunts where, grown a cat, You pondered this, considered that, The cushioned chair, the rug, the mat, By firelight smitten. Although of few thou stoodst in dread, How well thou knew a friendly tread, And what upon thy back and head The stroking hand meant. A passing scent could keenly wake Thy eagerness for chop or steak, Yet, Puss, how rarely didst thou break The eighth commandment. Though brief thy life, a little span Of days compared with that of man, The time allotted to thee ran In smoother metre. 167 Concerning Cats Now with the warm earth o'er thy breast, O wisest of thy kind and best, Forever mayst thou softly rest, in pace. Peter. One only has to read this poem to feel that Mr. Scollard knew what it is to love a gentle, intelligent, affectionate cat — made so by kind treatment. To Francois Coppée the cat is as sacred as it was to the Egyptians of old. The society of his feline pets is to him ever delightful ard consoling, and it may have inspired him to write some of his most melodious verses. Nevertheless he is not the cat’s poet. It was Charles Cros who wrote: — “ Chatte blanche, chatte sans tache, Je te demande dans ces vers Quel secret dort dans tes yeux verts, Quel sarcasme sous ta moustache ?” Here is a version in verse of the famous “ Kilkenny Cats” :— “Q'Flynn, she was an Irishman, as very well was known, And she lived down in Kilkenny, and she lived there all alone, With only six great large tom-cats that knowed their ways about ; And everybody else besides she scrupulously shut out. “Oh, very fond of cats was she, and whiskey, too, ‘tis said, She didn’t feed °em very much, but she combed ‘em well instead : As may be guessed, these large tom-cats did not get very sleek Upon a combing once a day and a ‘haporth’ once a week. 168 Concerning Cats in Poetry “ Now, on one dreary winter’s night O’F lynn she went to bed With a whiskey bottle under her arm, the whiskey in her head. The six great large tom-cats they all sat in a dismal row, And horridly glared their hazy eyes, their tails wagged to and fro. “ At last one grim graymalkin spoke, in accents dire to tell, And dreadful were the words which in his horrid whisper fell: And all the six large tom-cats in answer loud did squall, ‘Let’s kill her, and let’s eat her, body, bones, and all.’ “Oh, horrible! Oh, terrible! Oh, deadly tale to tell! When the sun shone through the window-hole all seeméd still and well: The cats they sat and licked their paws all in a merry ring. But nothing else in all the house looked like a living thing. “Anon they quarrelled savagely —they spit, they swore, they hollered : At last these six great large tom-cats they one another swallered : And naught but one long tail was left in that once peaceful dwelling, And a very tough one, too, it was — it’s the same that I’ve been telling.” By far more artistic is the version for which I am indebted to Miss Katharine Eleanor Conway, herself a poet of high order and a lover of cats. THE KILKENNY CATS There wanst was two cats in Kilkenny, Aitch thought there was one cat too many; So they quarrelled and fit, They scratched and they bit, 169 Concerning Cats Till, excepting their nails, And the tips of their tails, Instead of two cats, there wasn’t any. This version comes from Ireland, and is doubtless the correct original. “Note,” says Miss Conway, “the more than Greek delicacy with which the tragedy is told. No mutilation, no gore; just an effacement — prompt and absolute— ‘there wasn’t any.’ It would be hard to overpraise that fine touch.” 170 CHAPTER X CONCERNING CAT ARTISTS HILE thousands of artists, first and last, have undertaken to paint cats, there are but few who have been able to do them justice. Artists who have possessed the technical skill requisite to such delicate work have rarely been willing to give to what they have regarded as unimportant subjects the neces- sary study ; and those who have been willing to study cats seriously have possessed but seldom the skill requisite to paint them well. Thomas Janvier, whose judgment on such matters is unquestioned, declares that not a dozen have suc- ceeded in painting thoroughly good cat portraits, por- traits so true to nature as to satisfy —if they could express their feelings in the premises—the cat sub- jects and their cat friends. Only four painters, he says, ever painted cats habitually and always well. Two members of this small but highly distinguished company flourished about a century ago in widely separated parts of the world, and without either of them knowing that the other existed. One was a Japanese artist, named Ho-Kou-Say, whose method of painting, of course, was quite unlike 171 Concerning Cats that to which we are accustomed in this western part of the world, but who had a wonderful faculty for making his queer little cat figures seem intensely alive. The other was a Swiss artist, named Gottfried Mind, whose cat pictures are so perfect in their way that he came to be honorably known as “the Cat Raphael.” The other two members of the cat quartet are the Frenchartist, Monsieur Louis Eugene Lambert, whose pictures are almost as well known in this country as they are in France; and the Dutch artist, Madame Henriette Ronner, whose delightful cat pictures are known even better, as she catches the softer and sweeter graces of the cat more truly than Lambert. A thoroughly good picture of a cat is hard to paint, from a technical standpoint, because the artist must represent not only the soft surface of fur, but the underlying hard lines of muscle: and his studies must be made under conditions of cat perversity which are at times quite enough to drive him wild. If he is to represent the cat in repose, he must wait for her to take that position of her own accord; and then, just as his sketch is well under way, she is liable to rise, stretch herself, and walk off. If his picture is to rep- resent action, he must wait for the cat to do what he wants her to do, and that many times before he can be quite sure that his drawing is correct. With these severe limitations upon cat painting, it is not surpris- ing that very few good pictures of cats have been painted, 172 Concerning Cat Artists Gottfried Mind has left innumerable pen sketches to prove his intimate knowledge of the beauty and charm of the cat. He was born at Berne in 1768. He had a special taste for drawing animals even when very young, bears and cats being his favorite subjects. As he grew older he obtained a wonderful proficiency, and his cat pictures appeared with every variety of expression. Their silky coats, their graceful attitudes, their firm shape beneath the undulating fur, were treated so as to make Mind’s cats seem alive. It was Madame Lebrun who named him the “Raphael of Cats,” and many a royal personage bought his pictures. He, like most cat painters, kept his cats constantly with him, knowing that only by persistent and never tiring study could he ever hope to master their infinite variety. His favorite mother cat kept closely at his side when he worked, or perhaps in his lap; while her kittens ran over him as fearlessly as they played with their mother’s tail. When a terrible epidemic broke out among the cats of Berne in 1809, he hid his Minette safely from the police, but he never quite recovered from the horror of the massacre of the eight hundred that had to be sacrificed for the general safety of the people. He died in 1814, and in poverty, although a few years afterward his pictures brought extravagant prices. Burbank, the English painter, has done some good things in cat pictures. The expression of the face and the peculiar light in the cat’s eye made up the 173 Concerning Cats realism of Burbank’s pictures, which were reproduc- tions of sleek and handsome drawing-room pets, whose shining coats he brings out with remarkable precision. The ill-fated Swiss artist Cornelius Wisscher’s marvellous tom-cat has become typical. Delacroix, the painter of tigers, was a man of highly nervous temperament, but his cat sketches bring out too strongly the tigerish element to be altogether successful. Louis Eugene Lambert was a pupil of Delacroix. He was born in Paris, September 25, 1825, and the chief event of his youth was, perhaps, the great friendship which existed between him and Maurice Sands. Entomology was a fad with him for a time, but he finally took up his serious life-work in 1854, when he began illustrating for the Journal of Agrt- culture. In connection with his work, he began to study animals carefully, making dogs his specialty. In 1862 he illustrated an edition of La Fontaine, and in 1865 he obtained his first medal for a painting of dogs. In 1866 his painting of cats, ‘“ L’Horloge qui avance,”’ won another medal, and brought his first fame as a cat painter. In 1874 he was made a Chevalier of the Legion of Honor. His “ Envoi” in 1874, “Les Chats du Cardinal,” and “Grandeur Decline” brought more medals. Although he has painted hosts of excellent dog pictures, cats are his favorites, on account, as he says, of “les formes fines et gracieux; mouvements, souple et subtil.” 174 Ny iia tt) ! \ ANY ) ee " ULL T ne Waly au i ig nnn pial! at’ my si . - 4 A oo” . wi s yu ith 4 f iT LLL a Tom Brown, Jr.; Titus; Sweetheart; Children of Tom Brown and Persia: owned by Mrs. Fabius M. Clarke, York. of New Concerning Cat Artists In the Luxembourg Gallery, Mr. Lambert’s “ Fam- ily of Cats” is considered one of the finest cat pictures in the world. In this painting the mother sits upon a table watching the antics of her four frivolous kittens. There is a wonderful smoothness of touch and refinement of treatment that have never yet been excelled. ‘“ After the Banquet” is another excellent example of the same smoothness of execu- tion, with fulness of action instead of repose. And yet there is an undeniable lack of the softer attributes which should be evident in the faces of the group. It is here that Madame Ronner excels all other cat painters, living or dead. She not only infuses a wonderful degree of life into her little figures, but reproduces the shades of expression, shifting and variable as the sands of the sea, as no other artist of the brush has done. Asleep or awake, her cats look exactly to the “felinarian”’ like cats with whom he or she is familiar. Curiosity, drowsiness, indifference, alertness, love, hate, anxiety, temper, innocence, cun- ning, fear, confidence, mischief, earnestness, dignity, helplessness, — they are all in Madame Ronner’s cats’ faces, just as we see them in our own cats. Madame Ronner is the daughter of Josephus Au- gustus Knip, a landscape painter of some celebrity sixty years ago, and from her father she received her first art education. She is now over seventy years old, and for nearly fifty years has made her home in Brussels. There, she and her happy cats, a big 175 Concerning Cats black Newfoundland dog named Priam, with a pert cockatoo named Coco, dwell together in a roomy house in its own grounds, back a little from the Charleroi Road. Madame Ronner has a good son to care for her, and she loves the animals, who are both her servants and her friends. Every day she spends three good hours of the morning in her studio, paint- ing her delightful cat pictures with the energy of a young artist and the expert precision which we know so well. She was sixteen when she succeeded in painting a picture which was accepted and sold at a public exhibition at Dusseldorf. This was a study of a cat seated in a window and examining with great curiosity a bumble-bee; while it would not compare with her later work, there must have been good qual- ity in it, or it would not have got into a Dusseldorf picture exhibition at all. At any rate, it was the beginning of her successful career as an artist. From that time she managed to support herself and her father by painting pictures of animals. For many years, however, she confined herself to paint- ing dogs. Her most famous picture, “The Friend of Man,” belongs to this period —a pathetic group composed of a sorrowing old sand-seller looking down upon a dying dog still harnessed to the little sand- wagon, with the two other dogs standing by with wistful looks of sympathy. When this picture was exhibited, in 1860, Madame Ronner’s fame was es- tablished permanently. 176 Concerning Cat Artists But it so happened that in the same year a friendly kitten came to live in her home, wandering in through the open doorway from no one knew where, and deciding, after sniffing about the place in cat fashion, to remain there for the remainder of its days. And it also happened that Madame Ronner was lured by this small stranger, who so coolly quartered himself upon her, to change the whole current of her artistic life, and to paint cats instead of dogs. Of course, this change could not be made in a moment; but after that the pictures which she painted to please herself were cat pictures, and as these were exhibited and her reputation as a cat painter became estab- lished, cat orders took the place of dog orders more and more, until at last her time was given wholly to cat painting. Her success in painting cat action has been due as much to her tireless patience as to her skill; a patience that gave her strength to spend hours upon hours in carefully watching the quick movements of the lithe little creatures, and in cor- recting again and again her rapidly made sketches. Every cat-lover knows that a cat cannot be induced, either by reason or by affection, to act in accordance with any wishes save its own. Also that cats find malicious amusement in doing what they know they are not wanted to do, and that with an affectation of innocence that materially aggravates their deliberate offence. But Madame Ronner, through her long experience, 177 Concerning Cats has evolved a way to get them to pose as models Her plan is the simple one of keeping her models prisoners in a glass box, enclosed in a wire cage, while she is painting them. Inside the prison she cannot always command their actions, but her knowl- edge of cat character enables her to a certain extent to persuade them to take the pose which she requires. By placing a comfortable cushion in the cage she can tempt her model to lie down; some object of great interest, like a live mouse, for instance, exhib- ited just outside the cage is sure to create the eager look that she has shown so well on cat faces; and to induce her kittens to indulge in the leaps and bounds which she has succeeded so wonderfully in transfer- ring to canvas, she keeps hanging from the top of the cage a most seductive “bob.” Madame Ronner’s favorite models are “ Jem” and “Monmouth,” cats of rare sweetness of temper, whose conduct in all relations of life is above reproach. The name of “ Monmouth,” as many will recall, was made famous by the hero of Monsieur La Bedolierre’s classic, ‘Mother Michel and her Cat,’ 1 and therefore has clustering about it traditions so glorious that its wearers in modern times must be upheld always by lofty hopes and high resolves. Doubtless Monmouth Ronner feels the responsibility entailed upon him by his name. In the European galleries are several noted paint- 1 Translated into English by Thomas Bailey Aldrich, 178 Concerning Cat Artists ings in which the cat appears more or less unsuccess- fully. Breughel and Teniers made their grotesque “Cat Concerts” famous, but one can scarcely see why, since the drawing is poor and there is no real insight into cat character evident. The sleeping cat, in Breughel’s “ Paradise Lost” in the Louvre, is better, being well drawn, but so small as to leave no chance for expression. Lebrun’s “Sleep of the Infant Jesus,” in the Louvre, has a slumbering cat under the stove, and in Barocci’s “La Madonna del Gatto” the cat is the centre of interest. Holman Hunt’s “The Awakening Conscience” and Mu- rillo’s Holy Family “del Pajarito” give the cat asa type of cruelty, but have failed egregiously in accu- racy of form or expression. Paul Veronese’s cat in “The Marriage at Cana” is fearfully and wonder- fully made, and even Rembrandt failed when he tried to introduce a cat into his pictures. Rosa Bonheur has been wise enough not to attempt cat pictures, knowing that special study, for which she had not the time or the inclination, is neces- sary to fit an artist to excel with the feline character. Landseer, too, after trying twice, once in 1819 with “The Cat Disturbed” and once in 1824 with “ The Cat’s Paw,” gave up all attempts at dealing with Grimalkin. Indeed, most artists who have attempted it, have found that to be a wholly successful cat artist such whole-hearted devotion to the subject as Madame Ronner’s is the invariable price of distinction. 179 Concerning Cats Of late, however, more artists are found who are willing to pay this price, who are giving time and study not only to the subtle shadings of the delicate fur, but to the varying facial expression and sinuous movements of the cat. Margaret Stocks, of Munich, for example, is rapidly coming to the front as a cat painter, and some predict for her (she is still a young woman) a future equal to Madame Ronner’s. Gam- bier Bolton’s “Day Dreams” shows admirably the quality and “tumbled-ness”” of an Angora kitten’s fur, while the expression and drawing are equally good. Miss Cecilia Beaux’s “Brighton Cats” is fa- mous, and every student of cats recognizes its truth- fulness at once. Angora and Persian kittens find another loving and faithful student in J. Adam, whose paintings have been photographed and reproduced in this country times without number. “Puss in Boots” is another foreign picture which has been photo- graphed and sold extensively in this country. “Little Milksop ” by the same artist, Mr. Frank Paton, gives fairly faithful drawing and expression of two kittens who have broken a milk pitcher and are eagerly lapping up the contents. In the Munich Gallery there is a painting by Claus Meyer, “Bose Zungen,” which has become quite noted. His three old cats and three young cats show three gossiping old crones by the side of whom are three small and awkward kittens. 180 Concerning Cat Artists Of course, there are no artists whose painting of the cat is to be compared with Madame Ronner’s. Mr. J. L. Dolph, of New York City, has painted hundreds of cat pieces which have found a ready sale, and Mr. Sid L. Brackett, of Boston, is doing very creditable work. A successful cat painter of the younger school is Mr. N. N. Bickford, of New York, whose “ Peek-a-Boo” hangs in a Chicago gallery side by side with cats of Madame Ronner and Mon- sieur Lambert. “ Miss Kitty’s Birthday ” shows that he has genuine understanding of cat character, and is mastering the subtleties of long white fur. Mr. Bickford is a pupil of Jules Lefébvre Boulan- ger and Miralles. It was by chance that he became a painter of cats. Mademoiselle Marie Engle, the prima-donna, owned a beautiful white Angora cat which she prized very highly, and as her engagements abroad compelled her to part with the cat for a short time, she left Mizzi with the artist until her return. One day Mr. Bickford thought he would try painting the white, silken fur of Mizzi: the result not only surprised him but also his artist friends, who said, “Lambert himself could not have done better.” Upon Miss Engle’s return, seeing what an inspi- ration her cat had been, she gave her to Mr. Bick- ford, and it is needless to add that he has become deeply attached to his beautiful model. Mizzi is a pure white Angora, with beautifu blue eyes, and silky fur. She won first prize at the National Cat 181 Concerning Cats Show of 1895, but no longer attends cat shows, on account of her engagements as professional model. Ben Austrian, who has made a success in painting other animals, has done a cat picture of considerable merit. The subject was Tix, a beautiful tiger-gray, belonging to Mr. Mahlon W. Newton, of Philadel- phia. The cat is noted, not only in Philadelphia, but among travelling men, as he resides at a hotel, and is quite a prominent member of the office force. He weighs fifteen pounds and is of a very affectionate nature, following his master to the park and about the establishment like a dog. During the day he lives in the office, lying on the counter or the key- rack, but at night he retires with his master at eleven or twelve o’clock, sleeping in his own basket in the bathroom, and waking his master promptly at seven every morning. Tix’s picture hangs in the office of his hotel, and is becoming as famous as the cat. Elizabeth Bonsall is a young American artist who has exhibited some good cat pictures, and whose work promises to make her famous some day, if she does not “weary in well-doing” ; and Mr. Jean Paul Sel- inger’s “ Kittens” are quite well known. The good cat illustrator is even more rare than the cat painters. Thousands of readers recall those wonderfully lifelike cats and kittens which were a feature of the S¢. Nicholas a few years ago, accom- panied by “nonsense rhymes” or “jingles.” They were the work of Joseph G. Francis, of Brookline, 182 Kitty’s Birthday. Painting by N. W. Bickford, of New York. Concerning Cat Artists Mass., and brought him no little fame. He was, and is still, a broker on State Street, Boston, and in his busy life these inimitable cat sketches were but an incident. Mr. Francis is a devoted admirer of all cats, and had for many years loved and studied one cat in particular. It was by accident that he dis- covered his own possibilities in the line of cat drawing, as he began making little pen-and-ink sketches for his own amusement and then for that of his friends. The latter persuaded him to send some of these draw- ings to the Sz. Wicholas and the Wide-Awake maga- zines, and, rather to his surprise, they were promptly accepted, and the “Francis cats” became famous. Mr. Francis does but little artistic work, nowadays, more important business keeping him well occupied ; besides, he says, he “is not in the mood for it.” Who does not know Louis Wain’s cats ?—that prince of English illustrators. Mr. Wain’s home, when not in London, is at Bendigo Lodge, Westgate, Kent. He began his artistic career at nineteen, after a training in the best London schools. He was not a hard worker over his books, but his fondness for nature led him to an artist’s career. American Indian stories were his delight, and accounts of the wander- ing outdoor life of our aborigines were instrumental in developing his powers of observation regarding the details of nature. Always fond of dumb animals, he began life by making sketches for sporting papers at agricultural shows all over England. It was his own 183 Concerning Cats cat “ Peter” who first suggested to Louis Wain the fanciful cat creations which have made his name famous. Watching Peter’s antics one evening, he was tempted to do a small study of kittens, which was promptly accepted by a magazine editor in Lon- don. Then he trained Peter to become a model and the starting-point of his success. Peter has done more to wipe out of England the contempt in which the cat was formerly held there, than any other feline in the world. He has done his race a service in raising their status from neglected, forlorn creatures on the one hand, or the pampered, overfed object of old maids’ affections on the other, to a dignified place in the English house. The double-page picture of the “Cat’s Christmas Dance” in the London Illustrated News of Decem- ber 6, 1890, contains a hundred and fifty cats, with as many varying facial expressions and attitudes. It occupied eleven working days of Mr. Wain’s time, but it caught the public fancy and made a tremen- dous hit all over the world. Louis Wain’s cats immediately became famous, and he has had more orders than he can fill ever since. He works eight hours a day, and then lays aside his brush to study physical science, or write a humorous story. He has written and illustrated a comic book, and spent a great deal of time over a more serious one. Among the best known of his cat pictures, after the “Christmas Party,” is his ‘Cats’ Rights Meet- 184 Concerning Cat Artists ing,” which not even the most ardent suffragist can study without laughter. From a desk an ardent tabby is expounding, loud and long, on the rights of her kind. In front of her is a double row of felines, sitting with folded arms, and listening with absorbed attention. The expressions of these cats’ faces, some ardent, some indignant, some placid, but all interested, form a ridiculous contrast to a row of “Toms” in the rear, who evidently disagree with the lecturer, and are prepared to hiss at her more “advanced” ideas. “Returning Thanks” is nearly as amusing, with its thirteen cats seated at table over their wine, while one offers thanks, and the remainder wear varying expressions of devotion, indifference, or irrev- erence. “Bringing Home the Yule Log”’ gives twen- ty-one cats, and as many individual expressions of joy or discomfort ; and the “ Snowball Match” shows a scene almost as hilarious as the “Christmas Dance.” Mr. Wain believes there is a great future for black and white work if a man is careful to keep abreast of the times. “A man should first of all create his public and draw upon his own fund of originality to sustain it,” he says, “taking care not to pander to the degenerate tendencies which would prevent his work from elevating the finer instincts of the people.” Says a recent visitor tothe Wain household: “I won- der if Peter realizes that he has done more good than most human beings, who are endowed not only with sense but with brains? if in the firelight, he 185 Concerning Cats sees the faces of many a suffering child whose hours of pain have been shortened by the recital of his tricks, and the pictures of himself arrayed in white cravat, or gayly disporting himself on a ‘see-saw’? I feel inclined to wake him up, and whisper how, one cold winter’s night, I met a party of five little children, hatless and bootless, hurrying along an East- end slum, and saying encouragingly to the youngest, who was crying with cold and hunger, ‘Come along: we'll get there soon.’ I followed them down the lighted street till they paused in front of a barber’s shop, and I heard their voices change to a shout of merriment: for in the window was a crumpled Christ- mas supplement, and Peter, in a frolicsome mood, was represented entertaining at a large cats’ tea- party. Hunger, and cold, and misery were all dis- pelled. Who would not be a cat of Louis Wain’s, capable of creating ten minutes’ sunshine in a child- ish heart?” Mr. Wain announces a discovery in relation to cats which corroborates a theory of my own, adopted from long observation and experience. “T have found,” he says, “as a result of many years of inquiry and study, that people who keep cats and are in the habit of petting them, do not suffer from those petty ailments which all flesh is heir to. Rheumatism and nervous complaints are uncommon with them, and Pussy’s lovers are of the sweetest temperament. I have often felt the benefit, 186 Concerning Cat Artists after a long spell of mental effort, of having my cats sitting across my shoulders, or of half an hour’s chat with Peter.” This is a frequent experience of my own. Nothing is more restful and soothing after a busy day than sitting with my hands buried in the soft sides of one of my cats. “Do you know,” said one of my neighbors, recently, “when I am troubled with insomnia, lately, I get up and get Bingo from his bed, and take him to mine. I can go to sleep with my hands on him.” There is a powerful magnetic influence which em- anates from a sleepy or even a quiet cat, that many an invalid has experienced without realizing it. If physicians were to investigate this feature of the cat’s electrical and magnetic influence, in place of anatom- ical research after death, or the horrible practice of vivisection, they might be doing a real service to humanity. Mr. Wain’s success as an illustrator brought him great prominence in the National Cat Club of Eng- land, and he has been for a number of years its presi- dent, doing much to raise the condition and quality of cats and the status of the club. He has a number of beautiful and high-bred cats at Bendigo Lodge. With regard to the painting of cats Champfleury said, ‘The lines are so delicate, the eyes are distin- guished by such remarkable qualities, the movements are due to such sudden impulses, that to succeed in 187 Concerning Cats the portrayal of such a subject, one must be feline one’s self.” And Mr. Spielman gives the following advice to those who would paint cats :— “You must love them, as Mahomet and Chester- field loved them: be as fond of their company as Wolsley and Richelieu, Mazarin and Colbert, who retained them even during their most impressive audiences: as Petrarch, and Dr. Johnson, and Canon Liddon, and Ludovic Halévy, who wrote with them at their elbow: and Tasso and Gray, who celebrated them in verse: as sympathetic as Carlyle, whom Mrs. Allingham painted in the company of his beloved ‘Tib’ in the garden at Chelsea, or as Whittington, the hero of our milk-and-water days: think of El Daher Beybars, who fed all feline comers, or ‘La Belle Stewart,’ Duchess of Richmond, who, in the words of the poet, ‘endowed a college’ for her little friends: you must be as approbative of their char- acter, their amenableness to education, their incon- stancy, not to say indifference and their general lack of principle, as Madame de Custine: and as apprecia- tive of their daintiness and grace as Alfred de Musset. Then, and not till then, can you consider yourself sentimentally equipped for studying the art of cat painting.” 188 CHAPTER XI CONCERNING CAT HOSPITALS AND REFUGES T comparatively frequent intervals we read of some woman, historic or modern, who has left an annuity (as the Duchess of Richmond, “La Belle Stewart’) for the care of her pet cats; now and then a man provides for them in his will, as Lord Chesterfield, for instance, who left a permanent pension for his cats and their descendants. But I find only one who has endowed a home for them and given it sufficient means to support the strays and waifs who reach its shelter. Early in the eighties, Captain Nathan Appleton, of Boston (a brother of the poet Longfellow’s wife, and of Thomas Appleton, the celebrated wit), returned from a stay in London with a new idea, that of founding some sort of a refuge, or hospital, for sick or stray cats and dogs. He had visited Battersea, and been deeply impressed with the need of a shelter for small and friendless domestic animals. At Battersea there is an institution similar to the one the Society for Prevention of Cruelty to Animals in New York have at East 120th Street, where stray animals may be sent and kept for a few days await- 189 Concerning Cats ing the possible appearance of a claimant or owner; at the end of which time the animals are placed in the “lethal chamber,” where they die instantly and painlessly by asphyxiation. In Boston, the Society of Prevention of Cruelty to Animals have no such refuge or pound, but in place of it keep one or two men whose business it is to go wherever sent and “mercifully put to death” the superfluous, maimed, or sick animals that shall be given them. Captain Appleton’s idea, however, was something entirely different from this. These creatures, he argued, have a right to their lives and the pursuit of happiness after their own fashion, and he proposed to help them to enjoy that right. He appealed toa few sympathetic friends and gave two or three acres of land from his own estate, near “ Nonantum Hill,” where the Apostle Eliot preached to the Indians, and where his iodine springs are located. He had raised a thousand or two dollars and planned a structure of some kind to shelter stray dogs and cats, when the good angel that attends our household pets guided him to the lawyer who had charge of the estates of Miss Ellen M. Gifford, of New Haven, Ct. “TI think I can help you,” said the lawyer. But he would say nothing more at that time. A few weeks later, Cap- tain Appleton was sent for. Miss Gifford had become deeply interested in the project, and after making more inquiries, gave the proposed home some twenty- five thousand dollars, adding to this amount afterward 190 Cat Hospitals and Refuges and providing for the institution in her will. It has already had over one hundred thousand dollars from Miss Gifford’s estates, and it is so well endowed and well managed that it is self-supporting. The Ellen M. Gifford Sheltering Home for Ani- mals is situated near the Brookline edge of the Brighton district in Boston. In fact, the residential portion of aristocratic Brookline is so fast creeping up to it that the whole six acres of the institution will doubtless soon be disposed of at a very hand- some profit, while the dogs and cats will retire to a more remote district to “live on the interest of their money.” The main building is a small but handsome brick affair, facing on Lake Street. This is the home of the superintendent, and contains, besides, the offices of the establishment. Over the office is a tablet with this inscription, taken from a letter of Miss Gifford’s about the time the home was opened : — “Tf only the waifs, the strays, the sick, the abused, would be sure to get entrance to the home, and any- body could feel at liberty to bring in a starved or ill-treated animal and have it cared for without pay, my object would be obtained. March 27, 1884.” The superintendent is a lover of animals as well as a good business manager, and his work is in line with the sentence just quoted. Any one wanting a cat or a dog, and who can promise it a good home, may apply there. But Mr. Perkins does not take the 191 Concerning Cats word of a stranger at random. He investigates their circumstances and character, and never gives away an animal unless he can be reasonably sure of its going to a good home.. For instance, he once received an application from one man for six cats. The whole- sale element in the order made him slightly suspi- cious, and he immediately drove to Boston, where he found that his would-be customer owned a big granary overrun with mice. He sent the six cats, and two weeks later went to see how they were getting on, when he found them living happily in a big grain- loft, fat and contented as the most devoted Sultan of Egypt could have asked. None but street cats and stray dogs, homeless waifs, ill-treated and half starved, are received at this home. Occasionally, some family desiring to get rid of the animal they have petted for months, perhaps years, will send it over to the Shel- tering Home. But if Mr. Perkins can find where it came from he promptly returns it, for even this place, capable of comfortably housing a hundred cats and as many dogs, cannot accommodate all the unfortu- nates.that are picked up in the streets of Boston. a f : The accommodations, too, while they are comfortable and even luxurious for the poor creatures that have hitherto slept on ash-barrels and stone flaggings, are unfit for household pets that have slept on cushions, soft rugs, and milady’s bed. There is a dog-house and a cat-house, sufficiently far apart that the occupants of one need not be dis- 192 I. Rosalys: daughter of famous Blue Beard and Phiz; imported from England by Mrs. Clinton Locke: now owned by Miss Lucy Nichols, Waterbury, Ct. 2. Toddy, Rex, Snowball, and Loma: owned by Mrs. A. L. Hoag, of San Francisco; 3. Roscal: son of Rosalys and The Beadle; most per- fect ‘lavender blue” cat in America: owned by Miss Lucy E. Nichols, Waterbury, Ct. Cat Hospitals and Refuges turbed by those of the other. In the dog-house there are rows of pens on each side of the middle aisle, in which from one to four or five dogs, accord- ing to size, are kept when indoors. These are of all sorts, colors, dispositions, and sizes, ranging from pugs to St. Bernards, terriers to mastiffs. There are few purely bred dogs, although there are many intelligent and really handsome ones. The dogs are allowed to run in the big yard that opens out from their house at certain hours of the day; but the cats’ yards are open to them all day and night. All yards and runs are enclosed with wire netting, and the cat- house has partitions of the same. All around the sides of the cat-house are shelves or bunks, which are kept supplied with clean hay, for their beds. Here one may see cats of every color and assorted sizes, contentedly curled up in their nests, while their companions sit blinking in the sun, or run out in the yards. Cooked meat, crackers and milk, and dishes of fresh water are kept where they can get at them. The cats all look plump and well fed, and, indeed, the ordinary street cat must feel that his lines have fallen in pleasant places. Not so, however, with pet cats who may be housed there. They miss the companionship of people, and the household belongings to which they have been accustomed. Sometimes it is really pathetic to see one of these cast-off pets climb up the wire netting and plainly beg the visitor to take him away from 193 Concerning Cats that strange place, and give him such a home as he has been used to. In the superintendent’s house there is usually a good cat or two of this sort, as he is apt to test a well-bred cat before giving him away. Somewhat similar, and even older than the Ellen Gifford Sheltering Home, is the Morris Refuge of Philadelphia. This institution, whose motto is “ The Lord is good to all: and his tender mercies are over all his works,” was first established in May, 1874, by Miss Elizabeth Morris and other ladies who took an interest in the protection of suffering animals. It does not limit its tender mercies to cats and dogs, but cares for every suffering animal. It differs from the Ellen Gifford Home chiefly in the fact that, while the latter is a Zome for stray cats and dogs, the Mor- ris Refuge has for its object the care for and dis- posal of suffering animals of all sorts. In a word, it brings relief to most of these unfortunate creatures by means of a swift and painless death. It was first known as the City Refuge, although it was never maintained by the city. In January, 1889, it was reorganized and incorporated as the “Morris Refuge for Homeless and Suffering Ani- mals.” It is supported by private contributions, and is under the supervision of Miss Morris and a corps of kind-hearted ladies of Philadelphia. A wagon is kept at the home to respond to calls, and visits any residence where suffering animals may need atten- 194 Cat Hospitals and Refuges tion. The agent of the society lives at the refuge with his family, and receives animals at any time. When notice is received of an animal hurt or suffer- ing, he sends after it. Chloroform is invariably taken along, in order that, if expedient, the creature may be put out of its agony at once. This refuge is at 1242 Lombard Street, and there is a temporary home where dogs are boarded at 923 South 11th Street. In 1895, out of 23,067 animals coming under the care of the association, 19,672 were cats. In 1896, there were 24,037 animals relieved and disposed of, while the superintendent answered 230 police calls. Good homes are found for both dogs and cats, but not until the agent is sure that they will be kindly treated. In Miss Morris’s eighth annual report she says: “Looking back to the formation of the first society for the prevention of cruelty to animals, we find since that time a gradual awakening to the duties man owes to those below him in the scale of animal crea- tion. The titles of those societies and their objects, as defined by their charters, show that at first it was considered sufficient to protect animals from cruel treatment: very few people gave thought to the care of those that were without homes. Now many are beginning to think of the evil of being overrun with numbers of homeless creatures, whose sufferings appeal to the sympathies of the humane, and whose noise and depredations provoke the cruelty of the 195 Concerning Cats hard-hearted: hence the efforts that are being made in different cities to establish refuges. A request has lately been received from Montreal asking for our reports, as it is proposed to found a home for animals in that city, and information is being collected in relation to such institutions.” Lady Marcus Beresford has succeeded in estab- lishing and endowing a home for cats in Englefield Green, Windsor Park. She has made a specialty of Angoras, and her collection is famous. Queen Victo- ria and her daughters take a deep interest, not alone in finely bred cats, but in poor and homeless waifs as well. Her Royal Highness, in fact, took pains to write the London S. P. C. A. some years ago, saying she would be very glad to have them do something for the safety and protection of cats, “which are so generally misunderstood and grossly ill-treated.” She herself sets a good example in this respect, and when her courts remove from one royal residence to another, her cats are taken with her. There is a movement in Paris, too, to provide for sick and homeless cats as well as dogs. Two Eng- lish ladies have founded a hospital near Asniéres, where ailing pets can be tended in illness, or boarded for about ten cents a day; and very well cared for their pensioners are. There is also a charity ward where pauper patients are received and tended care- fully, and afterward sold or given away to reliable people. Oddly, this sort of charity was begun by 196 Cat Hospitals and Refuges Mademoiselle Claude Bernard, the daughter of the great scientist who, it is said, tortured more living creatures to death than any other. Vivisection be- came a passion with him, but Mademoiselle Bernard is atoning for her father’s cruelty by a singular devo- tion to animals, and none are turned from her gates, This is the way they do it in Cairo even now, according to Monsieur Prisse d’Avennes, the distin- guished Egyptologist : — “The Sultan, El Daher Beybars, who reigned in Egypt and Syria toward 658 of the Hegira (1260 a.D.) and is compared by William of Tripoli to Nero in wickedness, and to Czsar in bravery, had a pecul- iar affection for cats. At his death, he left a garden, ‘Gheyt-el-Quoltah’ (the cats’ orchard), situated near his mosque outside Cairo, for the support of homeless cats. Subsequently the field was sold and resold several times by the administrator and purchasers. In consequence of a series of dilapidations it now produces a nominal rent of fifteen piastres a year, which with certain other legacies is appropriated to the maintenance of cats. The Kadi, who is the offi- cial administrator of all pious and charitable bequests, ordains that at the hour of afternoon prayer, between noon and sunset, a daily distribution of animals’ en- trails and refuse meat from the butchers’ stalls, chopped up together, shall be made to the cats of the neighborhood. This takes place in the outer court of the ‘Mehkemeh,’ or tribunal, and a curious 197 Concerning Cats spectacle may then be seen. At this hour all the terraces near the Mehkemeh are crowded with cats: they come jumping from house to house across the narrow Cairo streets, hurrying for their share: they slide down walls and glide into the court, where they dispute, with great tenacity and much growling, the scanty meal so sadly out of proportion to the number of guests. The old ones clear the food in a moment: the young ones and the newcomers, too timid to fight for their chance, must content themselves with licking the ground. Those wanting to get rid of cats take them there and deposit them. I have seen whole baskets of kittens deposited in the court, greatly to the annoyance of the neighbors.” There are similar customs in Italy and Switzerland. In Geneva cats prowl about the streets like dogs at Constantinople. The people charge themselves with their maintenance, and feed the cats who come to their doors at the same hour every day for their meals. In Florence, a cloister near St. Lorenzo’s Church serves as a refuge for cats. It is an ancient and curi- ous institution, but Iam unable to find whether it is maintained by the city or by private charities. There are specimens of all colors, sizes, and kinds, and any one who wants a cat has but to go there and ask for it. On the other hand, the owner of a cat who is unable or unwilling to keep it may take it there, where it is fed and well treated. 198 Cat Hospitals and Refuges In Rome, they have a commendable system of caring for their cats. At a certain hour butchers’ men drive through the city, with carts well stocked with cat’s meat. They utter a peculiar cry which the cats rec- ognize, and come hurrying out of the houses for their allowances, which are paid for by the owners at a certain rate per month. In Boston, during the summer of 1895, a firm of butchers took subscriptions from philanthropic citi- zens, and raised enough to defray the expenses of feeding the cats on the Back Bay, — where, in spite of the fact that the citizens are all wealthy and sup- posedly humane, there are more starving cats than elsewhere in the city. But the experiment has not been repeated. Hospitals for sick animals are no new thing, but a really comfortable home for cats is an enterprise in which many a woman who now asks despondently what she can do in this overcrowded world to earn a living, might find pleasant and profitable. A most worthy charity is that of the Animal Rescue League in Boston, which was started by Mrs. Anna Harris Smith in 1899. She puta call in the news- papers, asking those who were interested in the sub- ject to attend a meeting and form a league for the protection and care of lost or deserted pets. The response was immediate and generous. The Animal Rescue League was formed with several hundred members, and in a short time the house at 68 Carver 199 Concerning Cats Street was rented, and a man and his wife put in charge. Here are brought both cats and dogs from all parts of Boston and the suburbs, where they are sure of kind treatment and care. If they are diseased they are immediately put out of existence by means of the lethal chamber; otherwise they are kept for a few days in order that they may be claimed by their owners if lost, or have homes found for them when- ever it is possible. During the first year over two thousand cats were cared for, and several hundred dogs. This home is maintained by voluntary contri- butions and by the annual dues of subscribers. These are one dollar a year for associate members and five dollars for active members. It is an excellent charity, and one that may well be emulated in other cities. There are several cat asylums and refuges in the Far West, and certainly a few more such institutions as the Sheltering Home at Brighton, Mass., or the Morris Refuge would be a credit to a country. How better than by applying it to our cats can we demon- strate the truth of Solomon’s maxim, “A merciful man is merciful to his beast”? 200 Ze Fine specimen of a genuine Russian cat: owned by Mrs. Frederick Monroe, Riverside, Ill. 2. Toby: pure white, from the Linden Cattery, Indian- apolis, Ind., owned by Mrs. Elbert W. Shirk, Indianapolis; 3. Teddy Roosevelt, pure white: owned by Mrs. L. Kemp, Huron, S. Dak. 4. Silver Dick, buff and white: owned by Mrs. Porter L. Evans, East St. Louis, Il. CHAPTER XII CONCERNING THE ORIGIN OF CATS F any of my readers hunger and thirst for informa- I tion concerning the descent of the cat through marsupial ancestors and mesozoic mammals to the generalized placental or monodelphous carnivora of to-day, let them consult St. George Mivart, who gives altogether the most comprehensive and exhaustive scientific study to the cat ever published, and whose book on the cat is an excellent work for the earnest beginner in the study of biological science. He says no more complete example can be found of a per- fectly organized living being than that supplied by the highest mammalian family — Felzda@. “On the whole,” he sums up, “it seems probable that the mammalia, and therefore the cat, descends from some highly developed, somewhat reptile-like batrachian of which no trace has been found.” Away back in the eighth century of the Hegira, an Arab naturalist gives this account of the creation of the cat: ‘When, as the Arab relates, Noah made a couple of each animal to enter the ark, his compan- ions and family asked, ‘What security can you give us and the other animals, so long as the lion dwells 201 Concerning Cats with us on this narrow vessel?’ Then Noah betook himself to prayer, and entreated the Lord God. Im- mediately fever came down from heaven and seized upon the king of beasts.” This was the origin of fever. But constituents in Noah’s time, as now, were ungrateful; and no sooner was the lion disposed of, than the mouse was discovered to be an object of sus- picion. They complained that there would be no safety for provisions or clothing. “And so Noah renewed his supplication to the Most High, the lion sneezed, and a cat ran out of his nostrils. From that time the mouse has been timid and has hidden in holes.” In the Egyptian gallery of the British Museum there is an excellent painting of a tabby cat assisting a man to capture birds. Hieroglyphic inscriptions as far back as 1684 B.c. mention the cat, and there is at Leyden a tablet of the eighteenth or nineteenth dynasty with a cat seated under a chair.