The Book of the Cat | Page 4

that ever roamed a roof. "I--I don't understand
December moons very well," he apologized.
"So I see," Twinkletoes replied. "But how about your early birds? Hello!
Your moon's whiskers say that it's after five o'clock, and that's not early

for birds. Now that I think of it, I don't believe they get up till later--at
least in December." Whitey was tired--this was the "last straw." "Early
birds!" he snorted, "early fiddlesticks! after five o'clock--just shows
how much a cat may believe!" And he started home. Mr. Twinkletoes
followed lazily, observing calmly, "I think the early milkman will be
good enough for me!"
[Illustration]
[Illustration]

Great Panjandrum.
The cats had just been punished for trying to catch the canary and were
cross because of it.
On their way downstairs Topsy, without meaning to, brushed against
Pan--properly named Great Panjandrum because of his superior
manner--who promptly spat at her. As a return compliment, Topsy
boxed his ears, then scuttled off to the living-room.
Pan stalked into the library and choosing, cat-like, the one spot he
should have kept away from, curled up on a handsome book that was
lying open on the table and forgot his troubles in sleep. For some time
Topsy wandered aimlessly from room to room; then preferring Pan's
society to no society at all--she did not feel kindly towards human
beings since her late whipping--she leaped lightly on to the table and
curled up near him. For fully half an hour she sat idly with half-closed
eyes, while Pan slept on, a perfect picture of innocent slumber. Then
his paws began to jerk excitedly; his mouth twitched, and the tip of his
tail waved like a pennant in a stiff breeze. Topsy eyed him coldly.
"M'yow! m'yow-yow!" he gasped; his paws slipped from the book to
the table; and he awoke with a start.
"Pretty faces you've been making!" snapped Topsy. "And such talk--"

Pan seemed surprised; then he remembered that Topsy had had the
worst of the punishment and suddenly felt very forbearing. (He'd had a
delightful "cat-nap," and we all know how refreshing those are!)
"I dreamed--" he began; then paused impassively for questions.
"Guess you did," sniffed Topsy. "You acted like it!"
Pan looked grieved but remembered--it was such a good nap he
had!--that when cats have trouble they are apt to be "catty."
"Dreamed"--he went on calmly--"that I had that yellow squalling thing
on the floor, and I was just going to put my paw on its soft feathers
when I awoke." He licked his chops dreamily at the thought.
"My!" sympathized Topsy, at last interested.
"Come to think of it, Tops, I'm hungry! And er-er--well, you know
Mistress doesn't always feed us heartily after--um--well--after, you
know."
Topsy bobbed the end of her tail understandingly, and Pan grew
confidential. "I know where's a dish of cream! It's down--"
The rest of the sentence was whispered so low that I really couldn't tell
you what it was; but Topsy understood, and the two hurried away as
noiselessly and gracefully,--yes, and as dignifiedly as only cats can
hurry.
The desired cream they found on a high shelf in the shed. They were
supposed never to enter this place, so Cook had thought it a safe spot in
which to set the cream.
A strong jump was needed to reach the shelf; but after several attempts
they managed it and lapped, lapped, lapped to their full content.
As they sat blissfully purring after this unusual treat they heard a
plaintive "Mew" from the ground close by, and peering down saw a
strange cat that had evidently entered through the open window, as they

had done. He looked hungry and wistful, while they had just had a
delicious meal and were correspondingly pleasant.
"Mrr-ow! Come on up; it's good!" called Pan.
Possibly hunger made the leap easier for this new-comer than for the
well-fed cats; possibly he was more agile than they, for with one spring
he landed by the saucer and dipping his head eagerly lapped long and
fast before he once raised his eyes. When he finished the pink tongue
was run out over his lips and whiskers, so that no delicious drop should
escape, and he heaved a satisfied sigh.
"Do you--ah--always have such dinners as this?" asked he.
Pan turned his head away and pretended to be interested in a black ant
that was crawling rapidly up the wall below him; he was a truthful
pussy and preferred to change the subject. The stranger was
comfortable and sat lazily waiting for the answer.
At that moment Cook went for the cream and seeing the cats started
angrily forward, shoo-ing and scat-ing with great vigour.
When after a wild exit the cats at last seated themselves up on a high
fence they paused a moment to get