Part 7 (1/2)

There were some young people playing tennis on the Anchorage grounds,--the Admiral's place opposite,--and they came over when they saw Miss Eleanor and Miss Milly, and said they had seen the attack. They said the loud barking of a dog and a scream from the girl who was wheeling a baby carriage called their attention. They thought Daisy was killed; they saw him move, but could not tell in what direction; they said they did not believe it could be far off, as he must have received his death wound. The dog was a fierce bulldog, and belonged to the girl who had screamed. She had wheeled the carriage off quickly and called the dog, who was howling and bleeding from the encounter. They said, had they only been able to get a pistol, they would have shot the dog at once; but no one dare interfere with an enraged bull dog. And they had no time, for it all pa.s.sed so quickly.

They came over and very kindly helped in the search, going down cellar, looking in the cold air box, and over the grounds. Where I could have taken myself so quickly, they could not understand. After their dinner they searched again--without success, however.

The Admiral's charming daughter, with her friend from a neighboring place, was very kind, calling the next day, trying to comfort my distracted friends.

It was after twelve o'clock before they went into the house; then they could not rest, walking out on the piazza, or sitting in the bay-window, and starting at every sound or shadow. Miss Milly said if they could only give me Christian burial, she could bear it better. It was a night never to be forgotten by them, and they loved me more, if possible, for what they had suffered when they thought they had lost me.

The young ladies I was soon quite intimate with. They brought ice-cream and jelly to me, and beautiful flowers. Of course we understood it was a delicate attention offered through me; in fact, it was using me as a ”cat's paw.” We had nice times sitting in the porch or on the piazza.

They were so bright and chatty, talking about books they had read. I could not read books, but I could sit on them and look wise, and I never was known to scratch one.

In the next house were two pet cats. One was Maltese, the other black, with white breast and paws. They were very large and dignified. There was one singular feature about them: both had double thumbs. After I became acquainted with them I asked them why they did not join a circus or museum. Oh, my! how mad they were, for they were very proud and exclusive; and at first were very shy of a.s.sociating with me till they saw what nice company we had. They said they thought we must be poor, for we kept no servant.

I told them we were poor, but we did not judge people by their money; that I guessed that so far as brains and culture and good breeding were concerned, my mistresses could beat the neighborhood, if we did not keep help. Then I pushed open the screen door and banged it in their faces. I was so very mad I never looked at them for a long time, and kept on the piazza at the other side of the house.

I did forgive them, however, but it was after their pride had a fall.

The family, went away for some weeks, and the house was closed. They left the small door in the barn open, and a heap of straw, with a blanket over it, for them to sleep on. They engaged the man who cared for the places around to provide them with milk and food; and he was very faithful to them.

How we did pity them! I held up my head and walked away when I saw them, and Miss Eleanor said she did not think I could be so hard-hearted; but I could not stand it when I heard a piteous mew and saw a sad face looking at me, and I at once threw all resentment to the winds and went out with them.

After this they were in our house all the time. As soon as it was light, over they would come, and wait till we came down to breakfast. They went home reluctantly at night, and Miss Eleanor was so good to them she went with them and poked up the straw and shut them in for the night. Miss Milly would say to her: ”Did you tell them a bear story? And did they say their prayers?” Miss Eleanor would laugh, and say: ”I did pity the poor lonely things; they looked like the babes in the wood when I covered the old blanket over them. Only I thought they had a good, nice auntie instead of a wicked uncle.” For, as you will see, I had been told all these stories, or the boys had, and I listened to them.

These cats were very nice to me. They would run up the trees and on top of the bay-window to amuse me; for I could not run or climb very well, though the next year, when we were out there, I could run with them very easily. We had such nice dinners together; for I enjoyed sharing my good things with them, and they were very nice about eating. They did not snort and growl as some cats do, or pick for the best. My mistress used to put down one large platter, and would give each of them the end, while I had the middle. Each shared alike.

We had a great deal of company. I enjoyed them all, particularly the artists. I had an eye for color, though I could not make a telescope of my paw and put it over my eye, exclaiming: ”What perspective! What color! What technique!” But I could open both eyes and see if the pictures were true to nature.

Many offers were made by the artists to paint my picture; but my mistress refused them, saying: ”Should I lose my Daisy, I could not bear to see a picture of her. I should always carry one in my heart, and would need no other.”

Our pleasant home we left the last of September, just when the autumn foliage was in a blaze of color, giving us a delightful picture to remember through the winter. We carried home some pine-cones for our grate, and bright leaves to put in our vases--a very pleasant reminder of our summer home.

We made a pine pillow. I say _we_ because I pulled out the pine as fast as they picked it. At last they were obliged to put me in the closet. I climbed on the shelf and knocked down boxes till, in self-defence, they released me.

But the pine pillow was finished, and I had many good naps on it, remembering those with whom I had played under the pines.

IX

CAT TALES

I had always felt desirous of hearing the history of Topsy. My mother lived one year in the house with her, on good, if not friendly, terms.

Her disappearance was a subject I pondered over quite often. Naturally, having taken her place in Miss Milly's affections, I wondered about her.

One day my curiosity was gratified. A friend, very fond of cats, who had known Topsy very well, called. Miss Milly told her this interesting story.

Topsy was a Salem cat, and no one could doubt her being a real witch cat. She was nervous, always on the jump, and ”such a smart temper!”

Miss Milly said: ”I had always been very fond of black cats, but it so happened, though we had cats of all colors, we had never a black one, till the arrival of Topsy. You know,” she laughed, ”I have always been very proud of calling myself a Salem witch. I have a mole on my left shoulder, and now that the black cat had arrived, I felt that I had all the requirements needful to make a veritable 'Salem witch.' I believe there is some superst.i.tion about a black cow, also; but one could not go about leading a black cow quite as well as a cat, and I felt satisfied that would ent.i.tle me to the name.”