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caressed : it is only from one till half-past one, or thereabouts, that she evinces this extreme trepidation and uncertainty. The
cat demonstrated her powers of memory another occasion, and in a very amusing way. Like all her kind, she is extremely ford of fish-indeed, tbough she is honest enough as a rule, fish generally proves an irresistible temptation. Fillets of sole and “Chattie” cannot be safely trusted together. One night we had on the table a tin of preserved lobster-at least, the tin was on the table, the lobster had been made into salad ; but a good deal of juice, and some nice little bits remained. Chattie, who had been regaled with sundry morsels, felt the attractions of this discarded tin, and by degrees approached it, and began to lick the edges. It suited her appetite to a tee; and as she was not discouraged, she continued her repast, her head going lower and lower every moment! At last she reached the bottom, where charming scraps of the fish still remained; but they, being solid, required mastication. Lifting her head, she found it firmly fixed in the tin, which was of considerable depth. In her wild alarm, she backed and backed, and struggled; evidently believing, poor little beastie, that she was doomed to pass the rest of her days beneath that strange impromptu helmet, she became frantic, but was, of course, presently relieved, in a very lobstery condition.
We laughed at poor Chattie's adventure—for she looked so very droll, backing and pawing, with her head and neck entirely concealed in the tin; but we soon forgot all about it. So did not Chattie! Long afterwards, another lobster-tin was all but emptied, and given over to her, in the kitchen, to do as she liked with it. She regarded it with a grave, meditative air; she sniffed at the delicious odour; she licked the edges, but she would not again adventure her head into the dark, delightful tunnel. And yet the luscious food tempted her exceedingly. At last she hit upon an expedient; she put in her paw, which was easily withdrawn, and licked it clean ; and finding this answer, she repeated the process, again and again, each time with renewed zest and relish, as a child deals with a jam-pot, till at length the tin was clean, and it only remained to Chattie to wash her paws.
We called her “ Chattie," because we received her as a French refugee, just before the siege of Paris. Ah! what a narrow escape she had from being fatted and eaten as some Frenchman's Sunday dinner! We called her first “petite chatte,” and “jolie chatte" -we were persuaded that she always pricked up her ears at the sound of her native language, while she took no notice whatever of common English-till at length we all came to christen her “Chattie,” to which name she has answered ever since. Pussy and Kitty are epithets unknown to her. She has very fine, soft fur,
and is beautifully marked; but I do not know that she has any specialities which would recommend her as a prize cat at the Crystal Palace, unless it be her large, dark, human-looking eyes, the pupils of which never contract to a mere lipe, as do those of most cats. If she is alarmed or distressed, these large, intelligent orbs assume an entreating, pathetic expression; as if a real sentient soul were looking out of them!
Mr. Wood tells of a cat of a wonderful intelligence, and he vouches for the truth of the story. “Pret,” an abbreviation of “Prettina,” also came from the Continent. When her mistress was very ill she attached herself as attendant, and soon established herself as head-nurse. She quickly learned to know the different hours when medicine and nourishment were to be taken, and during the night would awake the attendant at the right time, if she slept, by gently nibbling the end of her nose, if calling her would not avail. Having achieved her purpose, Pret would watch the preparation of what was needed, and then go to the invalid, and with a gentle purr-purr announce its advent. Her mistress adds :
-" The most marvellous part of the matter was, her never being five minutes wrong in her calculations of the true time, even amid the stillness and darkness of the night. But who shall say by what means this little being was enabled to measure the fleeting moments, and by the aid of what power did she connect the lapse of time with the needful attentions of a nurse and her charge?"
It is one of the common slanders against cats that they attach themselves to places rather than to persons; but this is utterly untrue. Certainly few cats will follow their owners as dogs will, but even this they do occasionally, rather than lose the society of those they love. And few well-treated cats will refuse to remain in the new home to which they are carried, when they see around them the familiar faces, and hear the well-known voices, and recog. nise the furniture to which they have been accustomed. But with strangers a cat will not often remain. She bankers after the home she remembers, and is constant to her earliest affections,-though a stray cat, left behind by cruel and thoughtless people in “ the old house,” will frequently attach herself to the new family, or even go some distance to find "a place;” thus, as it were, adopting a home in which the situation of felina familias happens to be vacant. Cats certainly have a language in which they communicate with each other, and perhaps they tell one another the last news, and inform their friends where a kitchen cat, or drawing-room cat, or stable cat, as the case may be, is needed, and what are the merits of the situation, and the general character of the family, cat-ically considered.
There are instances, however, of cats following their owners for many a mile, through a strange country, and finding them at last, after the fatigues and perils of long and difficult journeys. One case is recorded, and vouched for, of a cat, whose owners gave her to a neighbour when they moved to a distant abode, whither they travelled by sea ; while Puss, who had not the means of paying her passage, took her way by land, and after some weeks presented herself at the door of her old master and mistress, weary, ragged, and half-starved, but yet happy and content! How the creature knew which road to choose, or how to direct her steps at all, it is impossible to guess ; for as the husband and wife travelled by water and Pussy by land, there seemed to be no clue which could guide her to her friends.
Occasionally cats have very strange tastes. I know one who revels in sweet cake, marmalade, dessert raisins, and raspberry jam-which she will always steal if opportunity affords. She is not dreaded in the larder, but the sideboard cupboards have to be carefully closed against her. Now and then we find a cat who differs from the rest of her kind in not being a total abstainer; she laps beer and stout as if it were milk, and-dreadful to relate ! -does not object to have her bread soaked in rum and brandy! I remember a cat that was much petted by my mother when I was a child, and she liked nothing better than a mess of gruel, well laced with XX. My own cat, “ Chattie," devours dry toast very much as a child does ginger-bread: spread a little butter on the toast, and she will not look at it!
It is curious, too, to note how some cats seem to approve of particular odours, and dislike others. All cats appear to delight in cat-mint and valerian; and their fondness for the young seedlings of the blue Nemophila makes it difficult, especially in suburban gardens, where pussies most do congregate, to rear the plant at all. The only way is to cover it up with bits of stick and thoru as soon as it appears above ground, which prevents the cats rolling upon it. They appear to leave it alone voluntarily after the second leaf is matured. It is affirmed that this blue Nemophila is so favoured by cats that they will easily discover it from a distance. How far this
may be correct I do not know, only I am sure that the presence of this plant, in its earliest stages of growth, does tempt the creatures irresistibly.
The fur of a well-kept cat is remarkably soft and clean, and its skin is free from any unpleasant scent; though this cannot quite be said of all the long-haired cats, who require to be washed as pet dogs are. We had a male Angora which required continual attention; it seemed impossible, from the great length of his hair, that he could properly attend to his own toilet. When he was left un.
washed for any length of time, his skin and fur certainly exhaled the strong odour which we often observe in dogs.
Grass seems to be essential to the health, if not to the life, of the cat. It is its natural medicine ; and city-cats will diligently seek out any little tuft, and will travel a long way to obtain it. I have seen cats nibble a certain grass-like fern, a greenhouse Pteris, I believe, much used in bouquets, evidently mistaking it for their favourite physic. The ocelot, more popularly known as the tiger. cat, eats the green blades with avidity.
There are many varieties of the domestic cat. The Manx cat is conspicuous chiefly on account of its absence of tail, a rather wide protuberance taking the place of the usual caudal appendage. It is not at all a pretty animal, and is deficient in that grace of movement which characterises the feline race generally. Mr. Wood, the naturalist, calls it "a most unearthly-looking beast.” The Angola cat is a beautiful creature, and seems quite conscious of its charms. It moves about in a proud, stately fashion, as if quite appreciating the admiration of its friends; and it carries aloft its fine plumelike tail with a dignified air, very amusing to beholders. · Cats are famous for their electrical character. It is possible to obtain a very severe shock from a cat; she, however, objects most strongly to the experiment, and will rarely allow it to be repeated. On account of this superabundance of electricity, the cat is a very desirable companion for paralysed persons, who derive comfort from its touch. The rheumatic also find their pains alleviated by contact with these electrical animals ; even their very presence is useful; fondling and stroking them is of the greatest service. They give out more or less of their power, according to the amount of electricity resident in the person who handles them.
Many great and learned men bave loved cats. Shakespeare was particularly fond of them, Petrarch had his beloved cat, and Sir Walter Scott his favourite felina. The celebrated painter, Godefroi Mind, who died at Berne in 1814, was styled “The Raphael of Cats," from his devoting himself exclusively to the painting of them. Dr, Johnson, the great lexicographer, was so devoted to his pet cat, that when she was ill, and refused all food but oysters, he went out daily to buy her some, nor would be leave her to the tender mercies of a servant.
Nor has Pussy been deemed unworthy of the poet's muse. Gray wrote an elegy on his favourite cat, who was drowned in a vase of gold fishes; and Cowper's "Retired Cat" will be in the memory of all. “The Cat's Pilgrmage,” which is prose, however, is perhaps the latest contribution to cat literature. It proceeds from the pen of no less a personage than the historian Froude. It forms one of his “Short Studies of Great Subjects." Then we must not
forget Mrs. Beecher Stowe's four cats, viz.—Liz, Peter, Ann, and Lucinda. There an immense deal of cat in Peter," you remember.
concentrated cathood-a nugget of pure cat." Alas! the last we heard of Mrs. Stowe was that she bemoaned herself as catless! All four had gone-where the good cats go, doubtless ! Mr. Warner's cat “ Calvin " has also become historical. Poor bereaved Mrs. Stowe wanted the genial author of “A Summer in my Garden” to write an account of Calvin's virtues, to be condensed into a tract, and distributed among her cats ! “ Peter,” being a hardened sinner, could do very well with a little Calvinism. We close this rather discursive paper with a “Serenade”-translated from the Egyptian (of course :)-addressed by one of those glorified cats of antiquity to his sweetheart :
“ O lovely creature !
How elegant is your form !
How graceful your motions !
Let us journey to that happy country;
ANDREW MARVEL AND HIS FRIENDS.
A STORY OF THE SIEGE OF HULL.
BY MARIE HALL, née SIBREE.
CHAPTER XIV.-ALICE'S DIARY.—LINCOLN MINSTER AND
St. Paul's. 1641.—May 12th.-Mr. Nye's preaching and visits please us more and more; he called in this morning and talked with my father about the trial of Lord Strafford, which is over; and this very day his head_which has been so proudly lifted up above all others must fall. Alack, poor soul! The king has tried in vain to save him, condescending to entreat the Earl's life at his people's hands, and shedding tears over the hopeless condition of his favourite ; but what could tears avail when he signed the death-warrant, after all his promises to the Earl? Well may Sir Harry Vane say in his letter: “What confidence can be placed in a monarch that has broken bis word, and abandoned his trusting friend in the hour of