A Conversation Between a Cat and a Thrush

Southland Times, Issue 22422, 8 September 1934, Page 18

A Conversation Between a Cat and a Thrush

—Prize.— Perched on the topmost bough of a tall rowan tree, that grew in a secluded corner of a suburban garden, was a thrush—his glorious voice raised in song as he welcomed the rising sun. In the garden below on a rustic seat and seemingly asleep, reclined a large tabby cat. As the thrush ended his merry song he cast his eyes earthwards and for the first time noticed his feline audience. At last, the cat who was feeling very hungry, opened his eyes and ventured to converse with his feathered company. „ v “Good-morning, Mr Silver-Throat, I was thrilled with your song. Your voice is superb this morning.” . . . “You flatter me, Mr Kit-Cat,” gushed the conceited bird. “Not at all, not at all. It’s no flattery—l mean it,” assured the cat. “You must be musical then. Perhaps you sing yourself. “Well, yes on occasion,” the cat answered. . Of course the thrush knew only too well that the cat could not sing, but he was so very, very conceited about his own voice, that he liked to show off whenever he had the opportunity. “And your voice,” he scoffed, is it basso or baritone ■ ~ For a few seconds the cat was baffled but suddenly it came to his mind that he should show off too. ... » • “Oh! Ido a little of everything. I even reach soprano at times. The thrush could not find an answer to that so he started to sing again. “Spring is here, - Spring is here, . - Swee—” “Hey! What are you making all that fuss for?” broke in the. disgusted

Cat ‘ “Don’t you know that Spring is here? You dunderhead!” cried the indignant thrush. ’ • ’ „ , “Spring is down here by me, not up there,” said the other as he stared up at the bird. . , ,» “Huh! I don’t see her down, there! Anyway I don t believe you! “Well,” said the cat, “seeing you know so much, why don t you come down and see for yourself?” . The thrush forgot for the moment that his companion was a tabby cat and flew gracefully down beside it. . The cat at once pounced on the stupid bird and held it in his paws. “Didn’t I tell you spring was down here?” said the wicked animal grinning at the unfortunate thrush. But Fate willed otherwise. “Woof, woof, woof!!!” and the puppy from next door, came bounding on to the scene. Releasing the thrush the cat arched his bristling back and spat at the dog. ~ The thrush had flown up to safety once more and sat watching the pantomime below. . . “What a lovely voice you have! I must say! And who s got all the ‘spring’ now?” he mocked. . —l/- and 4 marks to Cousin Yvonne Reid (13), Lewis street. —Prize.—

Topsy the cat lay basking beneath a shady old pear tree. On the topmost bough of the tree a thrush sat viewing the world around her. She was very young having just learned to fly and, tired after her first flight by herself, was resting awhile. .... . .. Topsy saw her alight and. thinking that she might come to earth, hid cunningly behind the cabbages. Presently the unwary bird began to sing. Hah! thought puss, now is my chance to become friendly.” . ' ... . Coming from her hiding place Topsy said, ‘ What a beautiful voice you have, dreadful cat again!” exclaimed the thrush spreading her wings ready to fly. . » “Please don’t go,” begged puss, "I promise to do you no harm. “You seem quite friendly,” answered the bird, “but my mother tola me never to go near cats, because they love nothing better than a good meal of bird ” , “I hope you don’t think that I am one of those kind of cats, replied Topsy trying her utmost to look worried. “I would not dream of eating one of your kinsmen. Yesterday they took my kittens from me, so you must know by now how I feel that I should never wish to, grieve your mother. Fly to a lower branch that I may hear you more clearly.” “I can tell by the expression on your face that you will never harm me, said the thrush as she flew lower down. “What is your name?” queried Topsy. “Jane Thrush,” was the reply, “and what is yours?” “Topsy.” “Only the other day I heard you sing as you took shelter from the rain in this tree. How I longed to make friends with you then! Your voice enchanted me, but it was raining, compelling me to remain in my refuge,” said T ° PS> ’“Oh yes. Every member of the thrush family is a beautiful singer. A few of them have won prizes in the competitions against other birds,” boasted Jane. “Do you go to school?" queried puss. “No, but I will next year,” said Jane. “Not if I have my way,” said Topsy under her breath. “I hope you will like it,” she said aloud. “Who will be your teacher?” “Mr Owl, I think.” said Jane. “I know there are lots of worms here. Every day when the gardener digs I sit on the path and watch. Would you like some?” “I would indeed,” said Jane, “but I hear my mother calling me. Goodbye,” and with that Jane disappeared. “Well, well, that’s another bird lost," said Topsy as she went to her meal of scraps. —lf- and 4 marks to Cousin Ruth Hannabus (13), Mataura.

—Prize.— Selina’s emerald eyes glinted! Selina’s long black tail raised itself expectantly! “Good morning Mrs Thrush,” she cried to the little housewife as she flew overhead. “Won’t you stop a minute? This comer is very sunny.” “I’m sorry, Mrs Cat,” replied Mrs Thrush, pausing in her flight, “but I know better than to come to the ground, when you are near. Besides, I am trying to find worms for my nestlings.” ; “Do you ever do anything else? questioned Selina, her tail drooping, as her dream of a tasty breakfast faded, “now look at my kittens—a saucer of fresh milk and they are happy. Your birds are demanding food all day long. You give in to them far too much, Mrs Thrush.” “I am very pleased to think my darlings have such good, healthy appetites,” retorted Mrs Thrush, her sharp eyes gleaming angrily. “I know they will be strong, handsome thrushes like their father.” “Mieow!” exclaimed Mrs Cat, “Healthy appetites indeed! They’re plainly greedy, Mrs Thrush, no matter what you say! Handsome? Why they are the ugliest little things I have ever seen—all beak and eye! Look at my roly-polies—they have thick coats of glossy fur—they are fat and healthy. While your weaklings are nothing but skin and bone—featherless!”

“They will soon grow coats of brown feathers,” said Mrs Thrush quietly. “Indeed I have seen the black spots on their breasts. And they will have sweet singing voices too, and your flabby kittens will only mieow! Everyone loves to hear a thrush’s song—my clever babies will surpass all.” „ “Singing, what does singing matter?” replied old Selina, still undaunted. “My children’s mieows may not. be musical, I admit, but human beings will give them choice morsels to keep quiet.” “Nonsense, Mrs Cat, you are foolish,” returned Mrs Thrush, taken , by surprise at Selina’s audacity. ‘“lt is late too, so I must go and hunt worms—goodbye,” and she flew away singing. “Mieow,” muttered Selina and blinked in the sunlight. 1/- and 4 marks to Cousin Joan Holmes (14) 78 Albany street, Dunedin. —Prize.— The thrush sat perched on the highest branch of an apple tree, whistling merrily to himself. A cat lay dozing peacefully in the sunshine beneath the tree. (The thrush, unaware of the cat’s presence, flew down to the lowest branch. To the thrush’s amazement he saw the cat lying below him. The thrush cocked his head on one side. “Good morning” said the thrush in an impertinent voice. “Good morning” said the cat. “Why do you come awaking me in such a rude manner?” “I’m sorry” said the thrush. “You certainly look it too” put in the cat quickly. “Who’s your best friend?” asked the cat after a few minutes’ silence. “Not you anyway” said the thrush. “I never asked for your friendship” exclaimed the cat. “I have no friends” said the cat “except for Mary, the maid.” “No wonder you have no friends when you are such a false person” replied the thrush sneeringly. “Why does every one detest me?” sighed the cat. “Because you prowl round at night, eating birds and mice and many other living creatures.” “Oh! I see” said the cat. “I suppose if I ate you, you would be none the wiser?” “How would I live if I had nothing to eat, mice and birds are delicious, especially thrushes like you” exclaimed the cat slyly watching the thrush. “Oh! You wouldn’t eat a friend like me would you?” asked the thrush anxiously.

“You never know” replied the cat. “You have your faults too” said the cat to the thrush. “May I ask what they are?” said the thrush haughtily. “The other day I heard Mary the maid say you were a nuisance, as you eat the fruit and the farmers’ crops. You have your good point.” “What is it” asked the thrush excitedly, sitting down beside the cat. “You make a delicious meal for me!” With that he held the screaming thrush between his claws and killed it, thus ending the conversation. —l/- and 4 marks to Cousin Gwendoline Strachan (14), Riversdale. ’ Highly Commended. One fine morning our vain kitten Tibbles awoke in a bad temper. Outside Mr Thrush was singing merrily in the sunbathed treetop, for he was feeling very happy and gay as he yodelled away in his sweet voice. As I hinted before, Tibbles felt angry towards everyone, so he strode outside to Mr Thrush with a murderous glint in his large green eyes. “Shut up you crack necked bunch of feathers!” he shouted. “Ye-lod-ee-twiddle-ee-ee!” mocked Mr Thrush. “By whiskers if I don’t bite you soon my name is not Mr Archibald Tibbles,” puffed that infuriated little gentleman. ‘“Mr Archibald Tibbles’,” repeated the bird. “Dear me! What a beak full. Ha! Ha! You can’t catch me, Tibbles!”

“Scandalize and slander my name, will you?” coughed his lordship Tibbles. “I’ll soon see about that, you squeaking piece of rubbish!” “If you could sing as sweetly as I can instead of letting out those hideous meows and getting wild you might be more tolerable,” answered calm Mr Thrush. “Well, what good do you do?” demanded Tibbles. “I make everybody happy by' spreading the spirit of gladness and peace with my beautiful voice!” replied the thrush proudly. “Pooh, that’s nothing. I can catch rats and mice who eat my master’s grain,” cried foolish Tibbles. “If you think that is being useful I don’t” said Mr Thrush. “If you will persist in giving me cheek I shall give you what you deserve!” So saying, Tibbles made a rush at the tree intending to climb it but the artful old bird, grabbed a prickly cone in his foot and dropped it down on Tibbles’ nose. Poor Tibbles received such a shock that he ran howling back to bed while the thrush flew off chuckling to himself. I think I can safely say that Mr -Archibald Tibbles never again tried to enter into conversation with Mr Thrush. „ —3 marks to Cousin Irish Tuffery (13), Dacre. —Highly Commended. — “Tweet, tweet, tweet—tweet, twee—!” The thrush that was singing blithly as he stood on a precarious perch in a pine tree, was suddenly startled out of his song by a curious sharp scratching below him. Frightened, he was about to fly away, but this impulse was stayed by something stronger—curiosity. Again came that perplexing sound. The thrush craned forward his head, but was unable to pierce the thick foliage beneath, with his sharp, bright eyes. Hopping down from twig to twig, he gradually worked towards the sound, until, just as he rounded a thick bough he saw a tabby cat sharpening its claws on the bole of the tree and so producing that mystifying sound. The cat saw him at the same moment. The thrush, for a moment paralysed with fright, just stood there, unable to move. “Hullo,” said the cat, “don’t be afraid of me, I will not hurt you. My brothers and sisters would though, if they caught you. I think it is very cruel to hurt birds like you.” The poor thrush’s heart was beating

so quickly that all he could stammer out was, “Do you?” “Yes, I do,” was the reply. His courage now mounting rapidly, the thrush listened attentively. The cat had now resumed talking. “I don’t think any cats should catch birds.” “That’s very strange, said the thrush. “Why, ever since I was bom, cats have been my mortal enemies.” ■ “I can quite believe that,” replied the cat sadly. “I have tried very hard to make my brothers and sisters give up hunting birds, but all the reward I get for my entreaties is laughs and jeers.” “Never mind,” consoled the thrush, “If you cannot get others to do what is good, do as much as you can yourself. “Yes, as far as that goes, I am doing the best I can,” said the cat. “Surely there is someone who shares the same good opinion with you?” asked the thrush.

“Ah, there is,” said the cat, brightening visibly. “My little mistress, who is a girl of nine years, does. When I am with her she often tells me how pleased she is because I do not catch birds. I am always very proud of that fact then.” “That is something to work for," said the thrush. Hullo! Who is this, one of your brothers?” he queried. “Yes, you had better fly away. Quick, before' he sees you. Goodbye.” “Goodbye.” - marks to Cousin Laurie Bolger (13) Mataura. —Highly Commended— Some called him a cheeky fellow and soem nicknamed him “Stripes.”, But we will not go into all that. Let’s call him “Stripes,” too. I had been gathering some greenery and wild flowers from a bush surrounding the vicarage when Stripes, known well by sight, dropped from a tree into a large hole full of soft, dry earth, and fluttering his wings around a great deal he flew out, shook himself, and flew back into the tree, and burst forth into a men-y and cheeky song. Hearing a rustle in some nearby scrub, I looked up from pulling a fern, and saw Penn and Inke the twin cats from the barn. I dropped behind the ferns and waited for the fun which I knew was coming. Inke hid behind the tree, while. Penn went to die front of the tree, where Stripes could see him. “Hullo Stripes, how s life? he shouted. “It’s all right as long as you are not hunted for prey,” he answered maliciously. “You are very clever, Mr Wise, said Penn, “and you would be much cleverer if you were not such a coward.” “If you mean I am up too high I will certainly come down a little further, if it pleases your highness,” he said haughtily as he descended to a part of the tree where the branches broke away from the trunk. “That’s better,” purred the cat, now we can resume our conversation. Why I came here to-day, is that I want to warn you that there is poison set to catch you, if you touch bag of pollard in the barn again.” “Indeed, I’ve never done such a thing in my life.” As he said this, he lost his footing and fell down where Inke was hidden. ■ , When he caught sight of the thrush he went to snatch him with his paw, but Stripes retained his balance and flew away. ‘ , ~ ... „ When Penn and Inke saw that they had lost their dinner, they _ scampered back to the bam and I finished gathering the greenery. —3 marks to Cousin Lilian Todd (14), Toa P. 0., Rimu. —Highly Commended—- “ Good morning,” said an impudent young thrush to a Cheshire cat who was seated on the ground under the tree on which the iSrush perched. “Good morning,” Puss replied. Would that every enemy were as polite as you. I know of a beautiful little cave away in the wood., where there are lots of lovely grubs for you to eat, and for me there is a big piece of meat which cook gave me this morning. Over the ceiling and down the sides there are beautiful mosses growing and on the floor all around it are magnificent spring-flowers that are all out in bloom just now,” said the cat. “How lovely!” replied the thrush. “Yes, it is really a picturesque place for meeting and dining,” answered the cat, “and, if you like to come with me I will show you where it is.” “Oh! no thanks!” replied the thrush, “I would rather sit and sing on the tree-tops,” and with this she flew away to another tree where she thought it would be safer. —3 marks to Cousin Evelyn Saunders (13), South Hillend. —Highly Commended — One hot and sultry summer day a lazy old persian cat was lying stretched out in the shade of some tall flowers, when he noticed a thrush scratching about the ground. “Are you looking for worms? inquired the cat. “I suppose I am, chuckled the thrush. “Well,” said the cat, “there are plenty of nice juicy worms near where I am lying. Come over here and I will show you them.” “Well, there are one of two where I am, so I think I will stay here for the time being,” parried the thrush. “Oh, have your own way, but I am going to have my forty winks in spite of you,” and with that the cat closed his eyes and stretched himself out on the ground. , L “All right,” said the thrush, but now I must search under this other bush which is nearer to you.” “If you will never cease your chatter I must just stay awake, then. Come right over here where the worms are so”large,” retorted the cat. “Ho! Ho! I have had my full now, so good-bye Mr Cat and remember that, wily and all as you may be, you<haven t caught me in your trap, laughed the thrush as it flew gaily away. —3 marks to Cousin Mavis Patterson (14) Abattoir road, Waikiwi. —Highly Commended—- “ Good morning!” said sly Mr Cat to Mrs Thrush. ‘ . “Good morning Mr Cat, replied Mrg Thrush. “Will you come down and see my wonderful little garden?” said Mr Cat “Oh no thank you Mr Cat!” answered Mrs Thrush, “for I shall not be long ' down before you will have me safe in your mouth.” “I’m sure you must be weary from ; soaring up so high. Will you come down and rest with me?” asked Mr Cat. “Oh! no, no, no,” said Mrs Thrush, “for I shall never be able to fly around any more if I sit with you.” “Oh Mrs Thrush how bright and shiny are your feathers and how brilliant are your eyes. Will you let me stroke your shining plumage?” Alas! Alas! the silly Thrush hearing those flattering words came flying down to him. She thought of nothing but her shiny feathers and brilliant eyes. She sat beside him while he stroked her and then at last he grabbed her in his great large teeth saying: “Now I have got you!” It was but a short while before she was well out of sight. Now everyone should take a warning from this tale. To silly wily, flattering words I pray you never give ear and that sort of harm shall ’--ver come your way. —3 marks to Cousin Violet Creighton (13), Lomeville.