The Book of the Cat | Page 5

their breath again. Then the stranger
smiled--he actually grinned!
"I should judge you don't always have such a dinner as that!" He spoke
pleasantly, but Pan looked sheepish.
"By Whiskers!" he muttered, his mind's eye still seeing Cook's vulgar,
flapping apron strings; "I should think not!"
"Thanks, just the same--more," said the visitor jumping down.
"Don't mention it," politely answered the host and hostess. "Come
again!"
[Illustration]

[Illustration]

An Autumn Frolic.
One grey as dawn, one white as milk! With dainty paws, and eyes of
flame, And thick coats soft as richest silk!
They fly like wind, these pussies gay; Wheel madly round in dizzy
game, Then sudden stop in whirling play.
Up! Off! They follow breathlessly, With fawn-like grace, the glowing
leaves That dance in farewell whirls of glee.
The wind dies low; in dark'ning west The day's orb sets 'neath purpling
clouds. At last the two cats pause, and rest.

Tabitha Tiger Reflects.
(Tabitha Tiger.) Bless my claws and whiskers! but this suspense is
awful. Here I have been waiting for the last two hours behind this
horrid-smelling cheese, and no sign of a mouse yet. And it's just the
time for them, too.
I wonder why housekeepers expect us cats to keep the house free from
mice when they're away for the summer. No self-respecting cat can eat
mice morning, noon and night; and one would have to do so in order to
rid the house of them. Why, I should turn into a squeaking cheese-eater,
myself!
Strange place for Cook to leave cheese, strikes me--the kitchen table;
but it should make a fine hunting ground. If I'd only seen it before, I
needn't have wasted so much time in front of that hole up in the
attic--and I caught only three and a half mice during the whole week.
I suppose some boastful cats would call it four, but a first-class mouser
like myself doesn't have to stretch a tale (Tail! Good pun, that--Ha! Ha!)

to keep up her reputation, and that little Spring mouse really had no
more meat on than half a full-grown one.
Spring mice certainly are delicious if people only realized it--much
sweeter and juicier than Spring Chickens, and tender! My Furry
Ear-tips! It makes my mouth water to think of them! Their only
drawback is their drawing back. The best of them will never come out
far enough from the holes for
Gracious Cattails! What was that?
It is! There are his whiskers, now an eye--ear--Ah-h-h! Now he's
coming! Yes, right over to this very table--I must keep still. Now down
so: close behind the cheese. It's a good thing I'm not a big cat.
Well, I never! That was a close squeak--I got that tail under just in time!
Pretty poor memory, I call it, to forget one's own tail. If that mouse had
seen--
What! There's another, and half way over here. The first one must be
close by the table leg, though I can't see him.
And still another just coming out of the hole! Claws and Whiskers! If
my heart beats like this I'll never on this table be able to jump
straight--never.
One more--four! Talk about your mouse hunting! Why my paws
tremble so I shall have regular "mouse-ague" in a minute.
They're all making for the cheese; I can hear their claws scampering up
the wood. One--two--three--where's the last? There's the fourth patter. I
should get two, for they're close together and eating very intently.
Now for it!
Dear, dear! What a noise that front door does make. Master Harold's
little voice, too--
Oh, my eyes and teeth! Why need they have come just now? Those

mice heard it, too--they've stopped eating. Oh-h-h!
(Little boy bangs into kitchen and snatches Tabitha Tiger ecstatically
from table. Mice scatter back to hole.)
(Tabitha Tiger) Mr-r-r--owh! Sf-f-ft! Sf-f-ft! (Scratch, scratch.)
(Little Boy) Boo-hoo-hoo! (Slap-slap. Boy runs away.)
(Tabitha Tiger) He spoiled the finest mouse-catch of the season, and I
had to scratch him--a puss can't stand everything!
Gracious Cattails!
[Illustration]
[Illustration]

Dot's Beetles.
Since his fluffy kittenhood Dot has been afraid of beetles, grasshoppers,
crickets and, in fact, any large insect. That is rather strange in a kitten,
is it not? But he had one experience which I think excuses his timidity.
It was on a warm summer morning that he and his twin--no, let us say
triplet--brother Dab (the three kittens were called Dot, Dab and Fluff,
for they were too tiny to toddle around under heavier names, their
mistress said) were lying sleepily in their favorite corner of the piazza.
To make sure he was missing nothing that a kitten should not miss, Dot
opened his drowsy eyes and looked around. Instantly the drowsy look
vanished and was replaced by one of intense interest.
For lo!