I tried to amuse them, acting over all the little tricks they had taught me, and was a very happy creature when Miss Milly smoothed my fur, saying, "Oh, Daisy, what should we do without you!" Then I realized I was a comfort to them.

They had bought me a large brown straw basket with a cover, and very strong handles, and when I walked into it, taking possession, I felt like a prince of the blood. I little thought how many miles I should travel in that basket! It was open in places to give me air, and I could lie down and turn around comfortably in it. When travelling, my mistress would keep her finger between the cover and the basket, and with my eyes fixed on her face I felt safe. She said she felt under a spell, to watch me, and my stony stare reminded her of the Stranger Guest, in the "Ancient Mariner."

We remained only one month in our first boarding-place, for it was not satisfactory. The cats I could not a.s.sociate with, for they were rough tramps, no one owning them, and they had no care. I was very sorry for them, knowing how care and kindness could transform them.

They really hated me, and it made me very unhappy, my chief offence being my collar and padlock. They might have overlooked my collar, but the padlock was adding insult to injury. Their eyes would grow green with envy that one of their race should be above them. They looked upon my collar and padlock just as women look at each other's diamonds.

Animals feel envy the same as human beings; only they can tear and rend each other, while their so-called superiors would like to do the same were it not for the power of the law.

Cats and dogs fight, and that is the end of it; but with human beings it is never forgotten, and makes them bad-tempered and tyrannical.

I was very sorry for these poor cats, though I could not understand such mean feelings. I was always pleased when I saw cats or dogs with pretty collars on and bows of ribbon. One lovely white cat I knew used to wear blue ribbons, and I always told her how nice she looked, till I found how vain she was; then I said no more about her good looks, for I do hate vain people. I would gladly have given my collar and padlock, though I loved it dearly, if it would have helped them.

It is a problem beyond one poor cat's solution to know just how to help people to understand our race; but I do hope this little story will help a little. The life of one petted cat perhaps may make others as happy as I have been.

We changed our rooms quite often on our return to Boston; many of them were so cheerless I will not speak of them. Whatever our discomforts were, I was always cared for; but I did wish I could provide a palace and servants for my dear friends. I remember the stories Miss Eleanor used to tell the boys, and I wished I could be Cinderella, with a fairy G.o.dmother to give me means to help others. I fear I should have killed the mice before they were changed into horses. And when the boys would say to their aunties, "Why don't you have horses and carriages?" I also asked the same question.

I am an old cat now, and I know, and do not ask such questions, for I understand the world better, that it is not to those who deserve the most that luxuries are given. Why, we will never know.

We lived in one house where we were very uncomfortable. Our room, to be sure, always looked bright and nice, but it was because we had such good taste in covering up our defects and making poor things look nice.

The lady who owned the house was a philanthropist. It is a long name for me to master, but I thought it over in my waking hours, just as my mistress p.r.o.nounced it, and I can think it quite correctly, better than I can understand why she was so called. She was utterly neglectful of the two gentlewomen in her house, who were far ahead of her in education and culture, if not her equals in money.

I pondered the name, and its meaning, more and more. I will not say it made me tired, for that is slang; but it did make me sleepy, and I would drop into a good cat-nap right in the midst of defining "philanthropist."

She had a cat named "Oliver Twist." One must have some companionship of his own kind. So Miss Milly said, "Perhaps he will be a playmate for Daisy."

"Perhaps," Miss Eleanor said, "he also may be a philanthropist."

We soon found, however, he was nothing of the kind. He proved himself a most depraved cat. Under the cloak of virtue he concealed a very coa.r.s.e nature. He never came up to our room without trying to provoke a fight.

His black, beady eyes and sleek Maltese coat always irritated me. I had a cattish desire to fight him and let him know his place. For my mistress's sake I tried to subdue this feeling, remembering he was my guest, and I must be polite even at the expense of comfort.

It was all thrown away on him; it was "casting pearls before swine."

When I went out into the yard, as I did every day for an outing, he would hunt me about, as if I had no right to be there. Not one sc.r.a.p of food did I ever get down there, though he was always ready to have a feast when he came to us.

One day things reached a climax. I had tried to amuse him; he had taken my favorite chair, and washed himself all over in it, leaving so many hairs on it I thought I should go wild, knowing how Miss Milly would have to clean it. I gave him half my milk, and though he stood with one leg in the saucer to keep me from eating any, I still kept my temper. I would not make a fuss. But when, after finishing my milk and licking his chops right in my face, he flew at me and knocked me down, then I threw all politeness to the dogs, and unsheathing my claws, I closed with him, rolling over and over till he yelled well. Like all bullies, he was a coward.

My mistress said, "Daisy, I am ashamed of you." Miss Eleanor took "Oliver Twist," and put him out, with scant ceremony, saying, "I wonder what Charles d.i.c.kens would say to hear a cat like that called 'Oliver Twist.'"

"Poor cat! You know he is disciplined by a philanthropist." And Miss Milly laughed at the absurd thought.

I laughed also, as I crept into a corner, when I thought how nicely I had "Oliver Twisted" him. I slept the sleep of the victorious. I did not see very much of him after this, for we went early into the country for the summer.

There were very nice people where we boarded. One dear little boy was very fond of me. He hugged me so hard I avoided him. My mistress told his mother that she did not think children should be allowed cats and dogs for playthings. Miss Eleanor talked quite nicely to little Alec, and I think when he remembers her stories of children who were good to animals, that it will make him careful, for he was a nice little fellow, and he may be a good friend to poor ill-treated dogs and cats.

I enjoyed that summer very much. The cats were kind and friendly, and the beautiful trees on the grounds gave me a nice chance to run up and hide from my mistress. She was anxious about me all the time, fearing to lose sight of me. She used to pet all the cats that were good to me, and they all said, if they had a friend like her, how good and happy they would be. Some of them were very wild and rude, hunted as they had been by bad children, and scat from the door when, half starved and cold, they had sought shelter and friends. No wonder they were not nice company for well-bred cats. I did pity them and never turned away when they came near me.

At the end of the grounds was a big bed of catmint. It was like the "corner grocery store" for the cats. Crowds of them would a.s.semble there to talk over their affairs. And when, excited by the power of the catmint, they would get into a row, though there were no pistols or murders, such as characterize human fights, there were black eyes, scratched faces, and hate and rage in plenty.

I kept out of it all, though I cannot deny that my heart beat faster. I had to sheathe my claws till they hurt me; but I thought of my position, for a well-brought-up cat can understand the meaning of "n.o.blesse oblige." I suppose I felt just as men do (and women too, as to that) when they bet on the fighting parties. And I had my favorites as well as they, and knew who I hoped would win.

I did love that catmint bed, and never for one moment doubt that in the boundless green fields of Paradise we shall have acres of catmint where we can roll to our hearts' content. I did try to encourage the poor neglected ones with this prospect, but they did not believe me. They said I was a "cat fanatic," "a fool," "a revivalist." They said, "If we are to be so cared for, then why don't your 'heavenly father' that you think so much of do something for us now?" And they all talked at once and were so excited, they hissed and yelled so loud, that my nerves were all of a quiver; but I stood my ground, though they pressed on me very hard, and breathed so much catmint over me I was glad when my mistress, hearing the row, came and took me away.

It was many days before I visited that catmint bed again, for it rained very hard. Miss Eleanor remarked that Daisy was rather quiet; she feared he was sick. I could have told her my heart was sick, trying to solve the problem, how I could reform my race, how make people believe them the intelligent beings they are.

After this I had to bear jeers and scoffs; but I would not give up my principles nor yet my catmint bed. Many were the scratches Miss Eleanor got, pulling me out from under the bushes, for the smell magnetized me.

She always got me by the tail or leg, she cared not which, so that she carried me home and saved Miss Milly anxiety.

The people were very nice to me. One quiet young man, an artist, was very fond of me, and said I would make a fine subject for a picture. I used to flourish my tail and hold my head on one side just like a fool, I suppose; but then I know I am a beauty. I hear it every day, and how can I help being vain?

Before returning to Boston we paid a short visit to one of our friends.

She had a delightful home, and the children were very much pleased to have me visit them.

As I have quite an adventure to relate, where I did not distinguish myself, I will take another chapter, and give it in full, without extenuating my faults, leaving them to be judged by my readers.

VI

DAISY'S ADVENTURE

The eldest son and daughter were very kind to me, and I thought them just lovely. Their mother was an old friend of mine, and always when she came to Boston I was delighted to see her. I would jump up in her lap--a favor that I did not often grant to any one. Cats can tell who are true and who are false. I could have given my mistress points on this subject, for she believed in those she loved, and was often deceived.

There was a dog and cat that were great favorites with all the family.

Spot, the dog, was very plain,--a great lanky creature,--but he had one virtue; that was obedience. Tom, the cat, was a hard-looking creature, but they all loved him dearly.

Of course both dog and cat hated me. They thought I put on airs, and they resented the affection their mistress gave to me. I walked about the garden, regardless of their hisses and growls; and they very soon got tired of it, when they saw I did not notice them. Mr. George, the eldest son, had Spot in complete subjection, and Tom dared not approach me when the family were near.

Miss Eleanor and Miss Milly were invited to the seash.o.r.e. They had decided not to accept the invitation, as they could not take me with them. Mrs. H. urged their going, saying: "It is just what you both need,--change of air. I can take care of Daisy; it will be a pleasure."

So it was decided.

When they kissed me at parting, and said, "How can we leave you, Daisy?"

my heart ached so that I was too wretched to live. Had not Mrs. H. held me tight, I would have followed the carriage that took them away from me. Spot and Tom looked anxiously on. They thought, "Is this upstart to be left here to rule over us?"

Mrs. H. said that Spot must be kept at the store, only coming home at night. She tried her best to have Tom friendly with me, but a more obstinate cat I never met. He would stay in the room with me, and once took his dinner out of the same plate after they had kept him hungry a long time; but never could they make him friendly with me. I tried to be just to him, knowing how hard it was to have a "handsome, fashionable"

cat, as they called me, come into their home and share their friends.

And then there was that collar and padlock. How much I suffered for that little bit of finery! And yet I loved it dearly. I never struck an att.i.tude (as my mistress called it) without my padlock was in full sight, just under my chin, where I had placed it.

How long that one week was to me, and I am ashamed to say how many disgraceful acts I was guilty of. One night the climax was reached, and then my character was ruined for that family. I slept in the room with Mrs. H.--much to her husband's disgust.

It was a nice lounge I had, with a blanket on it, and any cat might have been happy there. Tom was envious of it, for one day he walked in and was just about to jump up there for a nap, when I jumped up before him, and gave a powerful hiss right in his face. He was all ready to fight when his mistress came in and giving him a shake, said, "If I ever hear you hiss at Daisy again, I will punish you."

Poor Tom! He knew he was unjustly accused, but what could he do, and I did feel mean, but what could I do either? I could not speak. I might have hissed; then, she would have known who was the offender. I did not, however, but just glared at Tom when she carried him off.

One night I could not sleep. I was homesick. So I just walked over the bureau, clinking the gla.s.ses and toilet bottles, and then mounted the mantle, meandering about sure-footed, though I did kick over a wooden ball, for pure mischief. I threw it on the floor, where it crashed down loud.

Mrs. H. started up, saying, "That cat is on the mantle; she will break the vases and clock."