Handy Andy, vol 2 | Page 5

great pet, and was so up to
everything, that Tom swore she was a'most like a Christian, only she
couldn't speak, and had so sensible a look in her eyes, that he was sartin
sure the cat knew every word that was said to her. Well, she used to sit
by him at breakfast every morning, and the eloquent cock of her tail, as
she used to rub against his leg, said, 'Give me some milk, Tom Connor,'
as plain as print, and the plenitude of her purr afterwards spoke a
gratitude beyond language. Well, one morning, Tom was going to the
neighbouring town to market, and he had promised the wife to bring
home shoes to the childre' out o' the price of the corn; and sure enough,
before he sat down to breakfast, there was Tom taking the measure of
the children's feet, by cutting notches on a bit of stick; and the wife
gave him so many cautions about getting a 'nate fit' for 'Billy's purty
feet,' that Tom, in his anxiety to nick the closest possible measure, cut
off the child's toe. That disturbed the harmony of the party, and Tom
was obliged to breakfast alone, while the mother was endeavouring to
cure Billy; in short, trying to make a heal of his toe. Well, sir, all the
time Tom was taking measure for the shoes, the cat was observing him
with that luminous peculiarity of eye for which her tribe is remarkable;
and when Tom sat down to breakfast the cat rubbed up against him
more vigorously than usual; but Tom, being bewildered between his
expected gain in corn and the positive loss of his child's toe, kept never
minding her, until the cat, with a sort of caterwauling growl, gave Tom
a dab of her claws, that went clean through his leathers, and a little
further. 'Wow!' says Tom, with a jump, clapping his hand on the part,
and rubbing it, 'by this and that, you drew the blood out o' me,' says
Tom; 'you wicked divil--tish!--go along!' says he, making a kick at her.

With that the cat gave a reproachful look at him, and her eyes glared
just like a pair of mail-coach lamps in a fog. With that, sir, the cat, with
a mysterious _'mi-ow'_ fixed a most penetrating glance on Tom, and
distinctly uttered his name.
"Tom felt every hair on his head as stiff as a pump-handle; and scarcely
crediting his ears, he returned a searching look at the cat, who very
quietly proceeded in a sort of nasal twang--
"'Tom Connor,' says she.
"'The Lord be good to me!' says Tom, 'if it isn't spakin' she is!'
"'Tom Connor,' says she again.
"'Yes, ma'am,' says Tom.
"'Come here,' says she; 'whisper--I want to talk to you, Tom,' says she,
'the laste taste in private,' says she--rising on her hams, and beckoning
him with her paw out o' the door, with a wink and a toss o' the head
aiqual to a milliner.
"Well, as you may suppose, Tom didn't know whether he was on his
head or his heels, but he followed the cat, and off she went and squatted
herself under the edge of a little paddock at the back of Tom's house;
and as he came round the corner, she held up her paw again, and laid it
on her mouth, as much as to say, 'Be cautious, Tom.' Well, divil a word
Tom could say at all, with the fright, so up he goes to the cat, and says
she--
"'Tom,' says she, 'I have a great respect for you, and there's something I
must tell you, becase you're losing character with your neighbours,'
says she, 'by your goin's on,' says she, 'and it's out o' the respect that I
have for you, that I must tell you,' says she.
"'Thank you, ma'am,' says Tom.
"'You're goin' off to the town,' says she, 'to buy shoes for the childre','

says she, 'and never thought o' gettin' me a pair.'
"'You!' says Tom."
"'Yis, me, Tom Connor,' says she; 'and the neighbours wondhers that a
respectable man like you allows your cat to go about the counthry
barefutted,' says she."
"'Is it a cat to ware shoes?' says Tom."
"'Why not?' says she; 'doesn't horses ware shoes?--and I have a prettier
foot than a horse, I hope,' says she, with a toss of her head."
"'Faix, she spakes like a woman; so proud of her feet,' says Tom to
himself, astonished, as you may suppose, but pretending never to think
it remarkable all the time; and so he went on discoursin'; and says he,
'It's thrue for you, ma'am,' says he, 'that horses wares shoes--but that
stands to rayson, ma'am, you see--seeing the hardship their feet has to