Part 26 (1/2)
It has often been said that women care more for pets, particularly cats, than men do. I do not think it is true. Men do not make such open demonstrations and decorate their pets in the absurd way that women do, but where they do love them, it is a very lasting affection.
If you follow the course of children who are cruel to animals, you will find they meet with their punishment oftentimes in this world. I have a story to tell in ill.u.s.tration of this fact.
A very charming family lived not very far from Boston, though their home was in quite a country place. The family was composed of a widow with four sons and an only daughter. The eldest son was really the flower of the family. The boys were all full of life, but very unlike their elder brother. Robert was a gentleman and a scholar. Mary, the sister, was his special friend, and he made of her a real chum, telling her all his plans and in every way making a friend of her.
They lived in a grand old house. It had been built by their ancestors some two hundred years. The land about was very beautiful, and they lived in comfortable style, though not really wealthy. They loved the old family horse, and the cow would follow every member of the family.
They had a good, big dog; and last but not least a great, dignified cat called Bruno.
The cat was the special pet of Robert and Mary. The younger boys teased him, and he kept out of their way. He well knew how to defend himself, and they were rather afraid of him.
There were no near neighbors. The grounds of their nearest companions met theirs, but nearly half a mile away. As they were not congenial, the distance was rather satisfactory.
Bruno would not notice the poor, wretched, hunted-looking cat belonging to the other place, and she was afraid of every moving thing. The people were very mean, though they kept up a great show of wealth; the servants and the animals about the place were half starved.
Poor Mossy had no one to love her. She had never been petted, and her life was made still more wretched by the loss of her many kittens. At last she disappeared. Then they realized her value, for she was a great mouser, and the place was infested with rats and mice. Knowing their enemy had gone, they returned in full force, and the people tried in every way to find Mossy, but in vain.
After a time the chickens on our friend Robert's place disappeared. They could find no trace of the robber, though they watched very carefully.
Max would bark nights, and Bruno, the cat, seemed to be very uneasy at the same time, as if he heard some intruder. One of the boys would stay out at night till quite late, but the hen-coop was peaceful; and though they tried every means, they never caught the intruder. And the chickens disappeared, all the same.
At last the boys discovered a hole in the back of the hen-coop, where the earth had been dug down and room made large enough for a cat to enter.
The boys declared they had seen a cat that looked like Mossy come out of the pine woods at the back of the hen-coop, and they believed she had stolen the chickens.
Robert said, ”If it is Mossy, do not harm her, but coax her here and feed her.”
Robert had always petted her when he could get the chance, but she seemed to shrink from and distrust every one.
The boys were not of the same mind. They had no love for Mossy, and believed in punis.h.i.+ng the one who had stolen the chickens. So they baited a trap with poisoned meat, just outside of the hole, and poor Mossy was caught. She was quite dead; but, not satisfied, they battered her head with stones.
Robert's wrath was terrible when he learned of poor Mossy's fate. He not only cuffed them right and left, but he told them they had forfeited the right to the pleasure trips and fun he had promised them. Robert had a scientific turn of mind, and his experiments were a great wonder and pleasure to the boys, and the loss of his favor was a severe punishment.
The next day, when they went out, they said, ”We will take the body of Mossy into the woods and bury it, and perhaps we shall find out where she made her home.”
They had laid down the body of Mossy on the gra.s.s while they went to dig a grave for her, when a mewing, shrill but feeble, greeted their ears.
They looked back, and a most pathetic sight greeted them: the dead body of poor Mossy was completely covered by five little kittens. They were half starved, and were trying to nurse their dead mother. ”Oh, ho!” said the boys, ”this is what she was up to! She wanted to raise a family all by herself.”
The three boys each took a kitten, and, whirling it around, dashed its little life out against a tree, saying, ”We will send her orphans after the chicken stealer.”
Robert and Mary had followed them, wanting to see that they buried Mossy as they ought to. They arrived on the scene just at the moment when the poor little kittens were killed. Robert rushed forward and with one blow felled one cruel wretch to the ground, while the others fled.
Poor Mary almost fainted at the dreadful sight; but Robert put the two little kittens (that he took from their mother's dead body) into her arms, and as she wrapped them in her shawl, they cuddled up to her so confidingly that it comforted her, for she said, ”They shall never know sorrow.”
Robert was moved almost to tears. As soon as he could command his voice he said: ”G.o.d will punish this act of cruelty, this crime. They are my brothers, but I would not lift up my hand to save them from prison.”
He then made a grave, and Mary helped as well as she could (with the little kittens in her arms) to put in leaves, and Robert spread out his handkerchief and tenderly laid in poor Mossy and her three kittens. It was a solemn sight. Mary covered them with her handkerchief and a few more leaves, and then Robert filled in the grave.
They carried home the two little orphans in silence. The poor things were very hungry, and Mary fed them and put them into a basket with soft white wool, and as soon as they opened their eyes she was ready with milk and petting, that they might not feel their mother's loss.
Robert was very fond of them. As soon as they could run about he took them up to his den, where all his time was spent in study, and they were perfectly at home. They would dart about, over books, papers, and table, and there was so much electricity about them that Robert named them Castor and Pollux, for he said they were like a flash of lightning in their movements. Of course they were called Ca.s.sy and Polly. They were the exclusive property of Robert and Mary, and the boys never dared touch them.