The Nomad of the Nine Lives | Page 4

spitting, and finally
succeeded in knocking me from my high position. Down on the ground
we rolled and struggled. Fur flew! Oh, how they scratched and kicked
and pummeled me. One bit pieces out of my ears, another gave me a
black eye. In my agony I thought of mother and that her warnings were
right after all. I found out afterwards that the object of their serenade
was a lady, and my fine appearance and good voice made them wild
with jealousy. I could have put up a good fight against one or two
enemies, but an army of five proved too much for me. However, I got
in a few savage bites and scratches, which I think they remembered for
some time.
During this terrible battle we all gave vocal selections in different keys,
which could hardly be called pleasing to the ear, and were rewarded by
a shower of empty bottles, old shoes, hair brushes, and finally some
unkind person threw a pitcher of ice-water at us, from a window above.
This last offering served to break up the encounter, as well as the

pitcher.
Upon being invited behind the scenes of a theatre some weeks later,
and peeping from the wings, I noticed that a young girl (who gave a
song and dance) was showered with roses, violets and other beautiful
flowers. I could not understand this great difference as her voice did not
sound any better than mine, I thought, although it may sound conceited
in me to say this.
I finally escaped with the remains of my ninth life and when I got away
from my new friends (?) I limped painfully back to the school house,
thinking how glad I should be to clamber in again and nurse my
wounds. When I reached there and looked for the open window I found
to my horror that it was closed. What should I do? Too weak to run
from an offensive dog, must I lie helpless in an open school yard? It
was not to be thought of.

CHAPTER III
I rested awhile and felt a little better. No bones were broken. I could
walk slowly, and as mother's provision store was not far away, I
decided to take the risk of finding a cellar window open there. So,
painfully limping along back streets and resting in dark corners, I
arrived at my destination at midnight, and found that a window had
been left open. It was a brave task to jump down but better than staying
out all night, so I set my teeth and leaped softly in. I was greeted with a
snarl and hiss which sounded like a bunch of fire-crackers going off,
and there was mother on guard, standing with arched back in front of a
box of newly-born kittens in a dark corner. I crept toward her and with
a cry of delight she recognized me. I told my pitiful story while she
gently led me to another corner and bade me lie down on some
carpeting, near which stood a saucer of milk. She lapped my wounds
and comforted me with kind words. She said she was afraid at first that
I was a bad quarrelsome cat, and that it almost broke her heart. Judging
from remarks that she dropped and as she had such sad eyes and sighed
so often, I am sadly afraid that father himself was not exactly a

Sunday-school model. I was stiff and sore the next day and stayed in
my corner. Mother brought part of her dinner to me, but I could not
bear to take the food from a nursing mother. The cries of the kittens
wore on my nerves to such an extent that I wondered if I could ever
settle down to a domestic life.
As soon as I felt able to go out into the world I did so, for I knew that it
made extra work for mother to have me there. I therefore took my
departure, deciding that I should not go back to the school (for after all
it was a dull place). It is needless to state that I thanked mother for her
kindness. Notwithstanding my first experience, I was anxious to see life
so set out with a brave heart, but without friends and no prospects of a
place to lay my head. Fortunately as it was summer and the nights were
warm, one could sleep out quite comfortably. I did not look quite up to
the mark, but knew that time alone would cover the bald places, and
restore my former agility. In the daytime I did not venture forth, but
slept most of the time in a quiet nook in a back yard where the people
had gone away for the summer.