Perhaps the most famous American cat was Agrippina, who belonged to Miss Agnes Repplier of Philadelphia. She is famous because of the charming essay which her mistress wrote in her honor.
Madame Henrietta Ronner is known as one of the most successful painters of cats and kittens. Her pictures are wonderful reproductions of cat life. Mrs. Olive Thorne Miller says: "We may safely a.s.sume that Madame Ronner is a cat lover, for no one really knows a cat who does not love him."
[Ill.u.s.tration: ALEXANDER.]
The intelligence and good breeding of the cat in this picture are so apparent that it is no wonder he made hosts of friends. His picture once adorned a humane calendar, and thus became familiar to many persons in the United States and in Europe.
Rev. J. G. Wood, in describing his own pet cat, said:
"His gestures and actions are full of that spirited yet easy grace, which can never be attained by any creature, be it man, beast, or bird, who has once learned to crouch in terror, and to fear a harsh tone or an uplifted hand."
In Spain it is the custom to store grain in garrets, and there the cats are treated very kindly. There is a small door in each attic for their use; food and drink are given to them; and they may walk where they like over the roofs of the city. Many of them never care to come down to the ground.
If there were no cats in America, we should be seriously disturbed and inconvenienced. It is said that the government of the United States keeps an army of more than three hundred cats for use in the Post-office department. Their duty is to guard the mail-bags against the attacks of rats and mice, and this they do very thoroughly and well. Before they were employed valuable letters and mail matter were often destroyed.
The government cats are fed well, some postmasters being allowed forty dollars a year for "cat meat." The work that this army does proves that well-fed cats make the best mousers. As the postal service is known for its high standards, we may be sure that these workers are industrious and satisfactory, or they would not be allowed to stay.
KITTY"S CHRISTMAS.
"Mew! mew! mew! Why don"t they let me in? I have been here on these cold steps for three days. I am very hungry and unhappy. Why do they shut me out in the cold?
"Ethel said she was going to the city for the Christmas vacation. She said I could catch mice till she came back. But the mice are in the barn and I can"t get in.
"The house, too, is shut up. No one is there to give me any milk. My warm bed is in the kitchen, by the stove. I can"t sleep on these cold stones.
"This is a dreadful Christmas! Last year I had a pitcher of cream and a string of popcorn from Ethel"s Christmas tree. She is very good to me when she is at home. I wish she would come back. I am so frightened and hungry! Mew! mew!"
TO MY CAT m.u.f.f.
Thou art not "dumb," my m.u.f.f; In those sweet pleading eyes and earnest look Language there were enough To fill, with living type, a goodly book, Wherein who read might see What tones unheard, and forms of silent speech Are given, that such as thee The eloquence of dumbness, men might teach.
JOHN OWEN.
HOW TO TAKE CARE OF CATS.
"Mamma!" cried Philip, coming in one day with something in his arms, "see this poor kitty I found in the street! A dog was barking at her and she ran straight into my arms. May I keep her for my own?"
Mrs. Grant looked up from her work. Such a rough-coated, dirty little cat as she saw! But there was something in the tired, frightened eyes that touched her.
"Are you willing to take a good deal of trouble, Philip?" asked his mother. "If not, it would be kinder to kill the poor thing quickly."
"I am willing; indeed I am!" cried the boy. "Please tell me what to do."
"You should give her a saucer of warm milk, with a little bread crumbed in it first; for the poor kitten must be very hungry. Then she will know you mean to be kind to her. After that she had better sleep. When she wakes up she will begin to feel at home, and then I think we must sponge her gently with warm water, because she is so very dirty. You must not do that alone, but you may hold her and stroke her softly, and if you think she will scratch you I will get you a pair of old gloves."
"Can we not put her in a little tub and bathe her?" asked Philip.
[Ill.u.s.tration: GENTLE KITTY GRAY.]
"It is not best to do that if you can get her clean any other way. Cats do not like water, and it frightens them very much, to be put into it.
Once in a great while we hear of cats that will be patient if put into a bath, but usually they will struggle and cry and act very much frightened. As soon as this kitten has been fed and begins to get over her fright at being homeless, you will see her wash herself.
"Then you must make her feel at home," said Mrs. Grant. "You can take her in your arms and carry her about the house, talking softly to her, so that she may feel that you will be good to her. It is fortunate that it is growing dark. She can see better in the twilight, and is not so easily startled."
The kitten lapped up the milk hungrily, and then came purring about the boy"s feet.
"Where may she sleep?" asked the boy, pleased to see that the kitten was not at all afraid of him.
"A low, wide basket half full of shavings will make a soft bed," said Mrs. Grant. "Over the shavings I will spread a piece of old flannel.
Cats like a warm, cosy bed, and it is always best to keep them in the house at night."
To their delight, the kitten did not object at all to the warm bath. She stood quite still while Mrs. Grant washed her gently and dried her in an old blanket.
"You can easily teach her to be clean if you are kind and patient," said Mrs. Grant. "She will not need a bath again, for she will learn to take care of herself; but it would be very good for her to be brushed every day, and I will give you a small brush for that purpose. If you put a pan of dry earth where she can always get at it, she will give no trouble when she cannot go out of doors."
"I think she likes me already, mamma," said Philip.
"I am sure she will like you if you are kind to her," said his mother.
"If you hurt her, she will never forget it. Dogs forgive many cruel blows, but a cat"s nature is different. She is very brave in bearing pain, and she rarely cries out when she is hurt; but she is very sensitive, and that ought to make us careful how we handle her. Don"t let the baby have the kitten to play with. He could not understand how his clumsy little fingers hurt her. He does not yet know the difference between a plaything and a playmate. But you can teach him to feed her and to be kind to her."
"What else must I do?" said Philip.
"You must keep a dish of water where Kitty can find it, and you must not forget to fill it every day with fresh water. Cats are more dainty than dogs are. They like clean dishes and fresh food. They must have plenty of warm milk, and brown bread and milk." "May she eat meat and fish?"
asked Philip.
"Not yet," said his mother. "She is too young. When she is older she should have meat cut up and mixed with bread or vegetables. The fat and tough fiber should be removed. When raw meat is given, boiling water should be poured on it to cleanse it. Fish may be given once a week.
That should be boiled and all the bones removed, as cats have sometimes been badly choked with fish bones. Meat and fish should be fresh. Dogs and cats have been poisoned by eating pieces of old meat and fish."
"I thought cats lived on mice," said Philip.
Mrs. Grant smiled.
"I am afraid that your kitty will starve if she has no food but the mice she finds here," she said. "Perhaps there are a few in the barn. Never let her tease a mouse, Philip. If you take the mice away from her when she plays with, them, she will learn, in time, to kill her prey quickly."
"Fred"s cat eats asparagus," said Philip.
"Yes; cats need some vegetable food. They usually like corn, string beans, boiled rice, potatoes, cabbage, and even carrots. Oatmeal, very thoroughly cooked, is an excellent food for them. If you give your kitten corn to eat, you must sc.r.a.pe it carefully off the cob in such a way that she will get only the inside of the kernel. I cut it for you, you know, so that the empty hulls are left clinging to the cob."
"May she have all the milk she wants?" asked Philip.