Part 2 (1/2)

She soon brought it back, and after a time Topsy seated herself bolt upright, and looked at me with such contempt, as if to say, ”Never dare enter this basket again.”

I never did, and never wanted to, as they found me a very good place in an old clothes-basket, and, to Bridget's delight, gave her a new one instead.

Then Miss Milly took me in her arms, in spite of Topsy's yells and frantic efforts to get at me, saying, ”Now, Topsy, if I ever hear you have treated this poor creature badly, I will punish you, and love her best.”

After this, though Topsy never cared for me, she treated me like a poor relation, offering me all the tough pieces of meat and bones; but she could never see me near Miss Milly without trouble.

We lived very happily in this nice house for one year. No one had cared for me, and I had settled down like one of the family, and soon my place was a.s.sured, for one day Topsy was missing. Everything was done to find her. Rewards were offered, and, for months, Miss Milly never gave her up, and it made her so ill that no one ever dared mention Topsy to her.

I did pity them all, for they loved her dearly, but to Miss Milly it was like losing a child. She was always very kind to me, but she never was known to pet another cat till you were born. And I do think, Daisy, you can win her love, and in a measure console her for Topsy's loss.

It was a great mystery, her disappearance, for they never got one trace of her. One thing was very sure; she was stolen, for she never would have left of her own accord. Some one suggested that, being a ”Salem”

cat, she had gone home to the ”witches,” as all black cats are said to belong to them.

I missed her, but was very happy to be the only pet in the house. I had many kittens, and they were treated kindly, and mercifully disposed of.

One was always kept till I could wean it, and then a good home was found for it. You were promised to a friend, but it was very fortunate for you that their delay in sending gave you such a hold upon the affections of these nice people that they decided not to give you away.

This pleased the boys, as they did not care to lose their dear little playmate. Miss Milly said, ”Daisy shall be mine.”

Great changes have come to this home. We have moved twice, and the good Bridget they could no longer afford to keep. We are now about to move again. I know they will provide for me, but I like this nice neighborhood, and the musicales on the back shed. The Bohemian blood in my veins I cannot ignore.

The trouble I have pa.s.sed through makes excitement necessary, and I put my whole heart into the fierce fights, and enjoy them.

Why not? I know people say, ”_Cats!_ awful fighting creatures!” Well, but where are the bull-fights, in which man and beast shed each other's gore and men and women look on? Dressed in their laces and diamonds, they applaud while rivers of blood flow from the poor wounded victim.

The genteel c.o.c.k-fights, and hunting down one poor little fox by a pack of hounds! If we are cruel, we learn it of human beings.

I do wish I could be satisfied with a quiet life, but it is too late to reform, and I shall meet my fate here. I will not go with them. You, my dear child, will be the loved one to comfort them. And I charge you to profit by your mother's experience, and you will be a fortunate cat.

This is my mother's story as I heard it from her lips.

Two weeks after this conversation we moved to a small house, with only a few rooms. To me the change made no difference. I was happy, petted by all. It was no surprise to me that at the last moment my mother was missing. But it was a real sorrow to them all. They searched everywhere.

They sent to all the neighbors, asking them to feed her, and let them know if she came back that they could send for her. How I wished I could speak, and tell them that one reason why she left them was the fear of being a burden to them.

For several weeks they never gave her up, but often went to the old place; but no one had seen my mother. At first food had disappeared that they had put out for her, but after a time it was not touched, and no one ever saw her again.

III

MY HOME

Years have pa.s.sed since my mother left us. Though I never forget her, I am very happy with the dear people who were so kind to my poor mother, and I try to be a comfort to them.

No reverses of fortune have touched me. Mrs. Rice is very kind to me, though she is not so fond of cats as her sisters. The boys are just perfect. I love them dearly. Karl, the eldest, is a real tease. He pretends to his aunties that he does not care for me, but no one makes more of me (on the sly) than Master Karl. Will is such a dear little fellow! His love for me made them decide to keep me.

We had one long room, and the seam in the poor old carpet was very prominent. On this seam Will and I had our race-ground. He would run just on the seam, and at the end of the room would jump very high. I would run just behind him, and jump higher. This pleased them all, and we got many kisses and treats for our play. Then we would roll over and over, my claws and tail flying, and we did enjoy it.

I was usually very obedient, but sometimes I had contrary fits. It was the ”Bohemian” blood in my veins that my poor mother so often spoke of.