The Tale of Our Cat.

Southland Times, Issue 19900, 19 June 1926, Page 22 (Supplement)

The Tale of Our Cat.

AS TOLD TO HIS NEIGHBOUR. —Prize.— “Hallo, Nigger, listen while I tell you what a good time I had yesterday. In the morning as soon as I woke up my master gave me a saucer of lovely creamy milk to drink. How I did enjoy it! After I had finished my milk, my master- gave me a large juicy piece of meat. You should have

seen me munching it. I bet your mouth would water. Ha! ha! Little Lucy, my master’s’daughter was playing with me for a while. Then I stole through the house and went into the dining-room, where the glowing fire was burning, and I lay down on the nice soft mat to sleep. I must have slept a good while, for the fire had been replenished, and was covered with flaming logs when I woke up. I lay down again and purred. Suddenly I heard a noise under the table and I pricked up my ears to listen. Very quietly I crept under the table and saw a little grey ball. I did wonder what it was, so I picked it up in my mouth, and, my word, didn’t I get a fright when it gave a squeak, just like a mouse would. I was so startled that I let it go; and guess what I saw running across the floor! A mouse! (So it was a mouse after all). I suppose he saw me on the mat and intended to play a trick on me, so just to pay him out I played a trick on him. How I did chaAe him! I followed him up the passage, and saw him dart out of the house, then I put all my strength into my running, and soon caught him. I was pleased! It was my intention to show my master what kind of a cat I was for catching mice, so I ran into the house again and saw him reading a book in the sitting room. He did not know that I was there, so I said ‘Miow, miow,’ and then he looked up from his book and saw me and said, ‘Good old ’Em,’ and patted me on my head. He also told the maid to give me another piece of meat for my cleverness. You should have seen my delight! I took the meat in my mouth and ran full speed outside, where I thought I could eat my meat in peace, without anyone disturbing me. To my disappointment a skinny little tiger kitten came hlong, when I wasn’t looking, nad grabbed my meat, and when I was going to give chase he had disappeared. So I gave up my hunt unwillingly. Now, best of all, my father, mother, sisters, brothers, and cousins and myself had a concert upon my master’s balcony in the evening. My cousins sang some solos, and the whole tribe of us sang, Please Give Us Some Nice Fat Mice.” We had lovely shrill voices, but I don’t think one of master’s servants liked them. She flung a boot at us. This didn’t stop us. We were going to annoy her, so we sang as loud and shrill as we could. She did get angry! We had the fun of our lives! I say, Nigger, don’t you wish you were there ? “No, I did not always live with Mr Brown. I’ll tell you how I came to be with such a kind master as I have now. One day I was walking along the street, hungry and thirsty, and as no one would give me any food I made up my mind to steal some, so I drank about a jug of milk that my master had put out on the bench. The maid missed the milk and master came out to get it, and he was a kind man, who loved cats, he gave me food and kept me. The maid has never been kind to me, she always kicks me when I lie down at the door. Well, Nigger, that is my story.” “And a good one, too, I reckon.” “Miow, Nigger.” —2/6 and 4 marks to Coupin Marjory Smith (12), Oreti Plains. —Prize WinnerWell Tom, dp you feel inclined to listen to a brief account of my life? Well you looked to be pleased so I shall make sure of telling you now while you are in the best of spirits. At first I was found in that old wooden barn of Mr Brown’s by a little girl who took me home and treated me so kindly. Every morning and night she used to give me a saucer-full of milk and such a lot of meat. Then one day the little girl fell ill and had to go away to a seaside town for her health and I was left alone in the house by myself as the whole family had gone away. I wandered about all day in the house, sometimes amusing myself by chasing the mice, but I did not feel inclined to eat the ones I caught because I had lost my Little Mistress. Oh! Tom, I wish I had known you then for I have never felt so miserable and lonely in my life as I did that day. Then in the midst of this I heard a loud thump on the front door and following closely on to this there was a clamour on the stairs and before I cbuld hide myself from view, the children dashed into the room and I did get some bruises and then I suddenly remembered that my other Mistress had said that I would not be very lonely for long. Day in and day out I had to suffer the cruel actions of the new children and by the time a month was up I had to leave the old house as I could stand it no longer. I wandered about the streets finding shelter here and there for a night’s rest and then during the day I had to go and find my meals. And then, oh! Tom, that happy day arrived when I was first acquainted with you and I shall never forget how you were so kind to me and shared your food and bed and then to add to it “My Mistress” returned to the house and wanted me to go back with her so I accepted the offer, but I never forget that I had a friend in you, did I? Dear Old Tom. —2/6 and 4 marks to Cousin Ruby McEwan (14), Elies Road, South Invercargill —Prize Winner— When I was a little kitten my mother used to tell me always to fight my own battles and she showed me how to catch birds. Ah! if my mother were only here to-day she would teach other people to mind their own business. Indeed, she told me that well mannered cats should treat each other with respect and that is what I try to do but I am not always successful Why, only to-day, when I was in the middle of lapping a bowl of milk kindly given to be by my little mistress, Flo, when I was called away by hearing one of my little kittens calling me. On reaching the little box in which they slept I found that the other kittens had been lying on top of it, nearly suffocating the poor little thing. Matters being put right I again turned in the other direction when a sudden thought of my milk sent a pang of hunger through me. Lo! what a sight met my startled gaze for there in the’middle of the carpet stood the empty bowl and beside it stood that huge grey mouser from over the road as calm as though the whole world belonged to him. How could a cat be respectable when she has such things as these to contend with? To tell you the truth I think that if other cats hunted and caught their own food as I have often done instead of always taking other people’s they would get on better in this life. I do not know what I would do if I did not have such a kind mistress as little Flo to look aftet me, but ah, dear, I recollect the time when I strayed from hofhe. The night wase very dark and I followed Flo and Linda to a party losing my way before we had gone a couple of blocks. Creeping under an old packing case I stayed there until morning, not daring to venture out because ail sorts of fears leapt into my heart. Next day I wandered everywhere until late in the afternoon someone behind picked me up who (to my great surprise) I found to be Flo’s brother, Will. Well, on the whole I have had an ‘exceedingly happy life with the exception of a few rough and tumbles. Hark! what’s that ? I know it’s someone opening our back door, but they have not sighted us. Come, I think that it is time all decent folks were in bed at one o’clock in the morning. Besides if we stay here much longer someone is bound to hear us talking and then we’ll get hunted. Goodnight, I’ll tell you the rest of my tale next time. —2/6 and 4 marks to Cousin Ruth Jones (14), c/o Mrs Dutton, Bluff Road, Clifton. —Highly Commended.— I leant back in the armchair, drew a cosily slippered foot back from the glowing fire which threatened to burn my toes, and lazily regarded the fine tabby cat which lay curled up on the mat, asleep. I must have dozed off to sleep, lulled by the warmth, for I was suddenly disturbed

by Ibe plop of my book as it sbd from i my lap. The cat .sprang to its feet spitting t at the offending book as I thought but 1 , van wrong for slowly out of the dancing , shadows stalked a huge black cat *■«> i bluing green eyes. My tabby meekly sub- , sided into a crouching ball of fur before | the rue of the other animal, which to my ■, surprise calmly seated itself on the mat in l front of the fire. I was too horrified to , move, even to wonder where that green eyed , stranger had com* from. < The tabbv’s tail moved angrily to and | fro the tail 'from which the tip was missing, , but under the steadfast gaze of the stranger , it stopped. . ‘'Your tale? ’ queried the black. I • ‘•Certainly'” snapped the tabby. L “Now, don’t be foolish you know quite well’ what I mean. Tell me the tale you had < begun when I had to dismiss you.’ “It’s plenty long enough and uninteresting”—grumbled the tabby. , “Yes, indeed it is” chuckled his compan- , ion, his green eyes fixed intently on the j tabby’s restless tail. L “And I can’t tell you the end ’cause it , < hasn’t got one,” finished the tabby, and then turning again on the still laughing black, “’Nough of that,” he snarled. And after stroking his whiskers thoughtfully with one brown paw he began — “I can’t remember much of my life as a youngster, but after that old witch disappeared with my mother I did have a lovely time. She had always told me I should have been drowned as I was the wrong colour to suit the mistress. ’ , “Quite right, quite right,” agreed his companion. The tabby swore and said nothing for a few minutes then he continued — “So you see I grew up sort of scorned and thats why I’m like I am,” he finished ; apologetically. “I wandered among the woods , and managed to live fairly well and con- | tentedly for some time. Then when I ; was out hunting one day I w'as marooned j on a tiny island. There must have been a . flood for the water rose just leaving enough | of dry land for me to stand on. For about two days things continued like this, and I wa« pretty hungry. Then my luck changed, I found I could fish as well as anybody, provided I waited long enough. After this the water went flown, and I was able to get back to drier land. I lived in a tiny cave and hunted or fished, or slept the days away. Then as I was busy catching myself a fish for dinner, some men who I believe are called sportsmen shot at me. I managed to escape but with a broken leg and a piece of my tail missing. I crept away and hid myself, but I became so hungrv that I hobbled out to try my luck at catching a dinner. I had not gone far when I stepped into a trap.” i “Most unfortunate,” murmured the black I eat. • “Oh. it didn’t hurt much” said the other , airly, “it was clogged with snow, for it was towards the end of winter, so it only held me a prisoner. Well I sat there as patiently as I could and presently a burly trapper ’ took me out. He had to put his coat I over me first for I bit and fought. Then I cooled down and he carried me to his home. He wasn’t a bad sort and I took | quite a liking to him and stayed there until j I was quite better again. Once more I Bet out on my own, but to my disgust I j found I no longer cared for a wild, free • life, and I longed for human comradeship.” ’ The black cat growled in an understanding way. “So back I wandered to civilisation. It ' took me a while to get properly used to it and I often went off on my own for a bit. I know every bit of country around here for miles,” he finished. The black again stroked his whiskers, and muttered: “H’m ,not so bad, but a bit abrupt; your two tales do not vary much.” There the , two voices sank to 3 low grumble. I j closed my eyes and when I opened them the ' black stranger had vanished and my tabby I was curled up asleep. The fire had burned , low to grey ash and I shivered and glanced ' round cautiously. We were alone, the cat and I. Next day I saw that our new neighbours had a big black cat, but somehow I could • not find any resemblance in this big sleepy j creature to the dark stranger of the evening j before. —2 marks to Cousin Daisy Ward (15), j Awarua Plains. —Highly Commended.— “I won’t be insulted like this! Who are you anyway? Your’re nobody but a common tiger cat earning your own living by stealing other people’s food. Ho! Ho!” The above heated words were said by my next door neighbour, no friend of mine. Bo you will agree with me, I had to defend myself. “Look here, Mr. Cheshire, I won’t be insulted, either! I am not a thief! Me! the pet of the house; and you can see that I’m properly fed.” (pouting out my chest). *You are nothing but a common thief yourself. I did not steal your dinner! You ate it yourself and because you’re starving you have to blame it on to me. If you knew my history you would think better of your hasty words.” “You’re wrong there,” my enemy cried, *1 distinctly saw you eating it! Bah! I won't put up with a cat like you. And you can assure yourself that I have as good a history as you. In fact I can say mine’s better.’’ To this also, I had a reply ready. I was not going to be spoken to in such a manner by my inferior. He hardly scraped a living for himself, while I lived with a very respectable old lady and gentleman and enjoyed life to the full. I had no need to earn a living like the cat next door. He had only just come to live there in a small wooden house with an old woman, an old man and half a dozen youngsters. It was the first time he had spoken to me, or me to him; and it was all because he saw me eating my dinner and he had none, that he said I had eaten his meal. As if I should eat his dinner! How ridiculous. I have plenty of my own without such a dinner as he would have. I was disgusted! What would my master say? We argued for quite a long time over the dinner, which was mine, and I had eaten, also about our histories. Of course, we both thought our own the best, which is quite natural. A tiger cat is by far the best and most useful, is it not? Yes, of course, you agree with me; and Pm the most sensible, too! “If you insist on saying your tale is the better, I wish you would relate it to me.” The impudent Cheshire cat as I thought, commanding me to tell my wonderful tale. Oh! I was all indignation at once. “Indeed! Tell my splendid tale to you, my detested neighbour.” (No, I didn’t mind saying it). But he insisted, so I began to relate the tale of which I was, and am so proud. Many’s the time I have told this same tale to my kinsmen. Even though I was speaking to my inferior, I did not mind, because I was telling my splendid tale which gave me so much pleasure. ‘To begin with, my ancestors,” I began, “all obtained high honours, which are still well remembered, my next-of-kin were also highly recommended, and every one of them lived very long and prosperous lives. I have yet a very long life ahead of me. When my parents’ mothers and fathers passed away we came to live here with very respectable people, as you know. My brothers died shortly before my parents and I am the only survivor. My dear parents died when that awful, ne’er-to-be-forgot ton plague, which was here a short time ago, threatened us with death. “I need not say how well I have been treated, for you know. Now, you can tell your tale, if it is worth telling.” I ended here and my companion began. “Certainly it is,” he began. “Anyway, I eannot but say that your tale is a good one, but you must listen to my side of life. Then you will think mine as good as yours’ “Very well.” I mumbled, “go ahead.” We were sitting on e large log of timber at the side of mv ma house which was separated from the next one by a long, high wooden fence. “My ancestors also achieved high honours in the King’s Palace,” he began, “and

not one of them failed to be of some use. They all won recommendations and many valuable gifts and prizes. I am very glad to be able to say that I am not the only survivor of our noble family. If we are not as rich as you are, we are surely not expected to be with so many of us. There is only you to be fed, whereas there are four of us. Still,” he ended, “we are of a very noble descent.” “Yes,” I agreed. ‘T agreed with you, although you have to earn a living by stealing other people’s—” Here I was interrupted by my companion. “Oh, really, but it is not very often that we, or I steal. I am sure you have stolen before.” “Well, I—l suppose I have,” I responded. “Well I think you are also of good people, so let us shake hands and apologise.” At this statement the Cheshire cat was quite surprised. Fancy me saying that after arguing so much about nothing. At length he shook hands with me and we resolved to be good friends in the future. Ever since we have been the sincerest of friends.’ Thanks to the quarrel which took some of the superiority and proudness out of me. asp n otaka ,o-bgkqj vbgkqj bgkqj kqj —2 marks to Cousin Doris Winder (14), 268 Tweed street, Invercargill. —Highly Commended.— “Dear me, aren’t some people terribly stupid!” An indignant voice came crisply through the morning air, and I, awaking with a start from the day dream in which I’d been absorbed, gazed hurriedly round to see from whence it came. But though I stared and stared the place seemed quite unoccupied save for myself, and I was just going to give up the search when, looking up, I beheld on the garden fence our dignified cat, Belinda Jane, and her next-door ■ neighbour, Mrs Spriggs. It was the first time I’d ever heard any animal talk, so I i stopped and listened with interest to the ' ensuing conversation. I “What ever is the matter, Belinda?” I came Mrs Spriggs’ gentle voice. (Mrs ■ Spriggs is diminutive and quiet, in great contrast to the gay and sprightly Belinda.) “Matter!” Belinda's ruffled feelings manifested themselves in a sound somewhere between a miaow and a snort. “Matter!” (I coudn’t hope to reproduce the terrific disgust in her tones.) “Why, that awful child actually had the audacity to hit me—just because I ate some of the cakes she had baked. Hit me—me, w’hose grandmother took first prize in a show!” Belinda struck an attitude upon the fence —it’s lucky that it is fairly broad, or she most certainly would have fallen off—and gazed around with her most warlike expression and the look in her eyes that had helped I conquer all the domestic pets in the locality. ' (I was very glad Belinda didn’t see me or she would probably have taken her revenge I for the painful incident she had related.) ! Then she turned to Mrs Spriggs, ready for i the sympathy and help she always obtained from that faithful ally. As usual, this was i not lacking. ‘You pore dear,” exclaimed her friend. “And did the horrid little thing hurt you much?” (“Horrid little thing indeed,” thought I, indignantly.) “Oh, it’s all right, Sprigg,” answered ! Belinda, already soothed by the anxious query, “but it’s not the kind of thing I like, you know, so upsetting to one’s dignity to be ill-treated by a scrap of a girl.” (I was divided between indignation and amusement at her patronising tone—it certainly i was an experience to be criticised by Belinda!) “Well, dearie, it does worry me to see you so upset you know, and it’s not the thing you’re accustomed to, is it?” “Indeed it isn’t,” said Belinda haughtily. ‘Why, before I came here I was the pride and joy of the house and did what I liked without reference to anybody! And when I I was very young I remember hearing i someone say how pretty I was and how J valuable too. And I remember . . .” “Oh, do tell me about it, Belinda,” : begged the eager Mrs Spriggs, almost overI balancing in her eagerness to get near her I bosom friend and hear her confidences. I “Well if you could spare the time .. .” Belinda hesitated, looking half-doubtfully towards Mrs Spriggs. I “Yes, certainly,” said that lady quickly. “My Sandy (her eldest son) is quite re- ) covered from his illness, and I’ve sent him out to play again before he goes back to Mrs Fluffytail’s school.” “So Sandy’s better? Well, well, I suppose it’s all for the best though it would have been nice to have made a little poem about his death—real touchy, I could have made it.” Belinda shook her head sadly; she was sorry to miss such an excellent opportunity for bringing her verses into prominence. Mrs Spriggs regarded Belinda with a slightly disapproving look, which, however, was tempered with a good deal of admiration. “For mercy’s sake, Belinda Jane,” she ejaculated, “if you ain’t the greatest cat! If you was dying I believe you’d stop to make a poem about it! How you do it, I don’t know!” “Oh, it’s quite easy,” said Belinda, with a return to her patronising tone. “It is quite simple to me because—didn’t I tell you? Oh, no I was going to when you started talking about Sandy. Well, I was one of five children and after we were a few weeks old our owner said we were too many to keep, so he sold some of us. It fell to my lot to become the property of a very learned professor—it’s never been my lot since to be so lucky. Such a nice man he was—why you could get up on his table and eat the breakfast and he’d never know!” Belinda sighed, for she didn’t have such an opportunity now; but soon she resumed her story. “After I had been with the professor a few months his son, who was a journalist and a bit of a poet, came home for a holiday, and I heard him say heaps and heaps—poetry you know—and I liked it very well, only I think the verses I did about my death were much better—quite as good, anyway. It was the first piece I ever did.” “Belinda!” interjected the worthy Mrs Spriggs, who, with me, had been an interested listener to this narrative. ‘You • haven’t written a pome on your death!” “Haven’t I?” chuckled Belinda feats do i laugh, you know, only people don’t hear or see them do so) I was a fair distance away I from the pair, but knowing Belinda, I felt sure her face would be abnormally grave, but her eyes mischievously gleaming. Sure enough, as I saw after, her expression was as I foretold, and her voice became even more wicked as she launched forth into the following—- " Here lies a cat, Belinda Jane, “One day she had an awful pain (She was a good cat in the main And always she was very sane) But she died and ne’er came back again.” “Belinda Jane!” gasped Mrs Spriggs. “There’s heaps more,” said Belinda rather breathlessly, “but I rather forget it, and at any rate it’s not very important in my , story. The next thing that happened after the journalist went away was that I left ' the house as well. This is how it hap- , pened. I was quite accustomed to eating ’ about half of the professor’s breakfast, and L he didn’t mind in the least. So I thought , anyone would share meals with me. I had i a big appetite then, being a growing cat,” i said Belinda somewhat apologetically, “but ' of course it’s quite small now.” (I, know--1 ing Belinda well, and remembering the ■ mouse she had caught in the early morning i and her huge supply of milk and meat for ! breakfast, was inclined to doubt this state- ’ ment, but of course could not interrupt 1 j such an interesting story with any suspicious : comments. Anyhow, Belinda had resumed I her tale before I had the chance to make I . anv remarks.) ' j “Well, one day the professor was away 5 > on business, and I was to have my food in , j the kitchen with the cook. She was doubtless a worthy woman, but she annoyed me exceedingly, and I am sure you will agree 5 i with me that, in the circumstances, her I j actions were most disagreeable. The way i in which she treated me was disgusting! - 1 There was a big fish cooked for lunch, and II cook, after taking it out of the pot, placed

it on the table while she went to the garden for something; while she was away I took a little of it—not very much, only a half or three-quarters. It was very good fish, too,” Belinda sighed sorrowfully, “but I only had half of it, that woman came in before I had time to eat it all. And oh, i she did go for me! Gave me such a hit t that I turned and ran straight down the 11 road!” f “Oh you dear brave thing!” exclaimed I Mrs Spriggs. “And what did you do after < that ?” 1 “Well,” answered Belinda, “for a few i hours I was very happy, but soon I became i hungry and went into a house for food. ] The first time I was unlucky; a woman 1 threw a potato at me—it didn’t reach me J fortunately for her—and said she didn’t 1 want stray cats hangin’ round. But the < next lady had a little boy about two, who i took a great fancy for me, and she was 1 eager for me to stay with them. I would - have done so, I think,” said Belinda Jane, 1 “but the baby was terribly fond of squeezing me, and I grew tired of it. So after a week or two I left them. Then for a while I travelled up and down the roads and then I came here. That’s my story up to the ■ present day, and though it mayn’t sound very exciting, I can assure you it has been ■ quite eventful enough for me. And my wicked kittens are a terrible trial and the 1 little girl in the house treats us very meanly. I think I’ll leave the place. I ■ don’t want their horrible milk. If anyone came out with a saucer of milk I wouldn’t touch it!” Just then a figure came out of the house ; and her speech was cut short by a call of • “Belinda! Belinda! Here’s some milk for 1 you.” Belinda was off the fence and up the path in less than five seconds, and the next view I had of her was when she was contentedly lapping it. Since then I have heard nothing of her leaving the house. And that was the story of her life, as told by our cat, Belinda Jane, to her next-door neighbour, Mrs Spriggs. , —2 marks to Cousin Winnie McQuilkan (12), 255 Yarrow street, Invercargill. —Highly Commended. — Who would be a cat to be shoo-ed about everywhere or anywhere? I live in the back premises of a large house in the city of Chester. My next-door neighbour is a puppy called Bang. One day while Bang and I were having what some people call , a cat-concert or dog-concert, pup asked me 1 to tell him of myself. A baby, who has just started to toddle lives at the house, and I have great trouble to keep out of the way. Oh, my poor tail, it is forever getting pulled by that terrible little baby. What pleasure it takes in pulling my beautiful tail I do not know. When visitors come, and I happen to pass, the mistress calls me so that the visitors may see how clever baby is, especially at pulling my tail. The cook, a fat, cross old thing, who is a real cook, by looks at any rate, is always scolding and shaking her rolling-pin at.somebody. If I venture inside the kitchen a pot, a poker, or a broom is thrown at me. Whin cook is cross her big, red face is redder than ever, and woe betidfe me if I go to the door of the kitchen. Because something is missing from the pantry I am blamed. While sweeping or dusting, ‘the maids just throw the duster at me. Once I was thought a lot of by the maids even, that was before the cheeky grey kitten came. When I see the little piece of insolence coming near me I arch my back and all the hairs on my body stand on end. If it had not been my luck to be born a cat I would have rather been a toy for children to play with. In bad times I take the refuge of puppy’s kennel, where I tell him all the bad news. —2 marks to Cousin Norma McKenzie (14), Avenal Road, Invercargill. —Highly Commended— One day our cat was feeling garrulous for I found her sitting under the willow tree commencing to tell her life story to the young, quarrelsome kitten that lives next door. I stood and listened and this is what I heard: — Now that I am an old, worn-out cat, I feel that it may do some young, inexperienced cat good to hear of my adventurers. As I look back on my life, a feeling of sorrow comes over me when I think of my foolish actions. I was born, I don’t know where in the matter of names of town, street or house, but my first recollections were of seeing a large, fat, furry cat sitting contentedly in front of a blazing bright light and of seeing myself beside her with three other little funny balls such as myself. After a while we were taken outside and instructed in the art of climbing trees, etc. But to tell you the truth I was a very wicked kitten and after many scoldings for bad behaviour I resolved to run away. So one day (I hate to think of it now) I very proudly marched out the front gate and determined to see the world. My misfortunes fell upon me immediately. I had not gone far down the street before, oh, what a sight met my gaze. It was, as I afterwards learned, a dog, but then I had never seen such an object in my life before. And there it was, coming up to me with its tongue right out and its eyes flaring. I jumped very quickly up into a fence and then scuttled for my life over a lawn till I came to a building. On this I saw a window-sill and up I jumped. But, alas, I misplaced my paws and splash—splash—splash. Oh, my dear, where was I? I was in a large can of milk. There was I splashing, struggling, gurgling, and I really thought I was drowning. But soon relief came in the form of a little boy who seized me roughly and threw me out the window. Just imagine what a sight I was! My fur was all dripping wet, I could hardly see, and my ears were blocked so that I could hardly hear. In this deplorable .state I again wandered down the street. At last I came to a place where millions of little grains of dust, were altogether formed into the earth. Further on were large, majectic heaps of water rolling and splashing. In a word I was at the seaside. I saw a boat high and dry on the sand so I climbed into it and was soon fast asleep. When I awoke I found to my amazement that I was in the boat alone on the wide, boundless ocean. Oh, it makes me shiver as I think of it. Being tossed from bow to stern I really thought my last hour had come. Night drew on and still I could see nothing but raging waves. No land in sight did I see for days until at last the little ship touched on a tiny island. I jumped out glad indeed to find myself on dry land. And there I lived for a whole year. During that time I had scarcely anything to eat, so consequently I became exceedingly thin. But one day a man came and took me home with him. There I found myself to be a wonder for the mother brought me milk, the children nearly scorched me in front of the fire and all seemed so exceedingly glad to see me that I began to think myself a person of great consequence. But after a while the children became very annoying, one would rub my fur the wrong way, another would pull my tail while another would dangle some meat above my nose but never let me get it. Then if I walked sedately into the sitting room and sat down on the best sea-green cushion the mother would chase me and whip me soundly (horrid thing). But one day when she did this I scratched her in such a way that she dropped me and screamed. I scampered out of the gate and for the second time was alone in , the world. But soon a little boy picked me up and took me home and there at last I found some peace. And here I still live at a good old age and you see by my perfect behaviour that I have learned by my bitter experiences. And so I walked away greatly amused ' but wondering greatly about the truthfulness , of our cat’s "perfect behaviour.” —2 marks to Cousin Millicent Broadbent 1 (14), 5 Compton Road, Trafalgar, Inveri cargilL