Barks and Purrs | Page 4

The brick's all foamy now ... I smell tar ... my eyes and nostrils smart ... there are storms in my ears. She grows excited, breathes loud and fast, laughs, and scrubs me light-heartedly. At last She rescues me, fishing me out by the nape of my neck, I paw the air, begging for life; then comes the rough towel and the warm coverlet where, exhausted, I relish my convalescence....
KIKI-THE-DEMURE, (deeply impressed)
Calm yourself.
TOBY-DOG
Jove! The telling it alone!... But--you old sly-boots--didn't I see her one day armed with a sponge standing over you, holding you down on the toilet table?
KIKI-THE-DEMURE, (quite embarrassed, lashing his tail)
An old story! The long, fluffy hairs on my legs (which give them the outline of a Zouave's) had somehow gotten dirty. She insisted upon washing me. I persuaded her that I suffered atrociously under the sponge....
TOBY-DOG
What a fibber you are! Did She believe you?
KIKI-THE-DEMURE
'Um ... at first. It was my own fault tho' when She didn't. Turned over on my back, I proffered the candid belly, the terrified and forgiving eyes of a lamb about to be sacrificed. I felt a slight coolness, nothing more. A fear that my sensibilities might be destroyed, took possession of me. My rhythmical wailings increased, then subsided, then went up again like the noise of the sea (you know the strength of my voice). I imitated the calf, the whipped child, the cat in the night, the wind under the door. Little by little I grew enraptured with my own song, so that long after She had finished soiling me with cold water I continued wailing, my eyes fixed on the ceiling. Then She laughed tactlessly and cried out, "You're as untruthful as a woman!"
TOBY-DOG, (with conviction)
That was annoying.
KIKI-THE-DEMURE
I was angry with her the entire afternoon.
TOBY-DOG
Oh, as to sulking, you do your share! I never can. I forget injuries.
KIKI-THE-DEMURE, (dryly)
You lick the hand that chastens you. Oh it's well known!
TOBY-DOG, (gullible)
I lick the hand that--yes, that's it exactly.--An awfully pretty expression.
KIKI-THE-DEMURE
Not mine.... Dignity doesn't trouble you any! My word! I'm often ashamed for you. You love everybody. You take all sorts of rebuffs without even raising your back. You're as pleasant and as banal as a public garden.
TOBY-DOG Don't you believe it, you ill-bred cat! You think you know everything and you don't understand simple politeness. Frankly now, would you have me snarl at His or Her friends' heels,--well-dressed people who know my name (lots of people I don't know know my name) and good-naturedly pull my ears?
KIKI-THE-DEMURE
I hate new faces.
TOBY-DOG
I don't love them either--whatever you say. I love--Her and Him.
KIKI-THE-DEMURE
And I, Him--and Her.
TOBY-DOG
Oh, I guessed your preference long ago. There's a sort of secret understanding between you two--
KIKI-THE-DEMURE, (smiling mysteriously and abandoning himself to his reverie)
An understanding, yes--secret and profound. He rarely speaks but makes a noise like a mouse, scratching his paper. It's for Him I've treasured up my little heart, my precious cat's heart, and He, without words, has given me his. This exchange makes me happy and reserved. Now and then with that pretty, wayward, ruling instinct which makes us cats rivals of women, I try my power over him. When we are alone, I point my ears forward devilishly as a sign that I'm about to spring upon his scratching paper. The tap, tap, tap of my paws straight through pens and letters and everything scattered about, is addressed to him as well as the insistent miauling when I beg for liberty. "Hymn to the Door-Knob," He laughingly calls it, or "The Plaint of the Sequestered Cat." The tender contemplation of my inspiring eyes is for him alone; they weigh on his bent head, until the look I'm calling searches and meets mine in a shock of souls, so foreseen and so sweet, that I must needs close my lids to hide the exquisite shyness I feel.
As for Her, she flutters about too much, often jostles me, holds my paws together and rocks me in the air, pets me in excited fashion, laughs aloud at me, imitates my voice too well--
TOBY-DOG, (moved with indignation)
You're very hard to please! I certainly love Him; he's good and pretends not to see my faults, so that he won't have to scold, but She's the most beautiful thing in the world to me, the dearest and--the most difficult to understand. The sound of her step enchants me, her changeful eyes dispense happiness--and trouble. She's like Destiny itself, she never hesitates. Even torture from her hands--you know how She teases me?
KIKI-THE-DEMURE Cruelly.
TOBY-DOG
No, not cruelly, but artfully. I never can tell what's coming next. This morning She bent down as if to speak to me, lifted one of my "tiny elephant's ears," as She calls them, and sent a sharp cry into it, which went to the very back of my