Friends and Helpers Part 6

There was once a cat that lived in a house in London. Her master owned a country home also, and twice a year p.u.s.s.y made the journey between the two houses. She always showed great interest and pleasure when the trunks were brought out and the packing cases were being filled.

She herself traveled in a comfortable basket with openings at the top, which had been bought expressly for her. Often her master lifted her out and held her in his lap for a while, so that the journey might not seem long to her.

One day, when the usual preparations were going on, p.u.s.s.y seemed very uneasy. She had a little baby kitten scarcely old enough to walk, and she was afraid the kitten would be left behind.

At last she spied a box half full of dresses.

"There!" thought Mrs. p.u.s.s.y. "That is a fine place for my baby. I can hide it away under those dresses and it will be quite safe."

When the kitten was discovered, carefully tucked in among the silks and laces, you may be sure that a place was found for it in the cat's basket.

In a monastery in France lived a cat who always came to dinner when the big bell rang to call the monks. One day she happened to be shut up in a room alone when the bell rang, and the poor kitty had no dinner.

[Ill.u.s.tration: DRIVEN OUT By M Stocks]

As soon as she was set free she ran to look for her plate, but none was there. Presently the monastery bell was heard, and when the monks came to see what could be the matter, there was the cat hanging upon the bell rope, ringing for her dinner.

Another story is told, in the Popular Science Monthly, of a cat who knew the name of each member of the household. If she was asked about an absent one, she would look at his vacant seat and then at the speaker.

If told to fetch him she would run upstairs to his room, take the handle of the door between her paws, mew at the keyhole, and wait to be let in.

A cat will often become especially attached to one member of a family.

Dr. Gordon Stables, who has written a book about cats, tells a story of a cat named m.u.f.fle that belonged to him when he was a boy. She was so fond of him that when he went away to school she left the house and went into the woods to live. The boy came home frequently, and whenever he did so she came back to welcome him. Dr. Stables also tells a story of a cat who knew the footsteps of every member of the family, and before any one else could hear a sound she would hasten to the door. She also knew if a stranger knocked at the door, and would give a low growl.

A remarkable story is told in a French scientific paper. There was a certain cat named Cadi who lived in Roumania. The winter of 1880 was very cold, and her master, to save his fuel, often went without a fire.

One day Cadi mewed and mewed until her master followed her. She led him straight to the coal-box, on which she sat until he had filled a hod with coal. Then she led him to the wood-box, and finally back to his own cold room.

While the fire was being made Cadi rubbed against her master's knees with many caresses, and when at last it began to burn bright, she stretched herself before it, contented and happy.

A mother cat will go through fire and water to save her kittens, and she will fight most bravely to protect them. One poor cat, finding that she could not save her baby from the flames of a burning building, went back to die beside it, rather than escape alone.

[Ill.u.s.tration: FRIENDS.]

A BRAVE GIRL. [Footnote: Published by Ticknor & Fields, 1867.]

A little girl was once coming home from school across Boston Common, when she saw a party of noisy boys and dogs tormenting a poor kitten by the side of the frog pond. The little wretches would throw it into the water, and then laugh at its vain and frightened efforts to paddle out, while the dogs added to its fright by their ferocious barking. Belle was a bright-eyed, spirited little girl, and her whole soul was roused in indignation; she dashed in among the throng of boys and dogs, and rescued the poor half-drowned little animal. The boys, ashamed, slunk away, and little Belle held the poor, cold, s.h.i.+vering little creature, considering what to do for it. It was half dead already, and she knew that at home there was no room for another pet, for both cat and kitten never were wanting in their family. "Poor kitty!" she said, "you must die, but I will see that you are not tormented;" and she knelt bravely down and held the little thing under water, with the tears running down her own cheeks, till all its earthly sorrows were over, and the little cat was beyond the reach of dog or boy.

This was real, brave humanity. Many people call themselves tender- hearted, because they are unwilling to have a litter of kittens killed, and so they go and throw them over fences, and comfort themselves with the reflection that they will do well enough. What becomes of the poor little defenseless things? In nine cases out of ten they live a hunted, miserable life, crying from hunger, s.h.i.+vering with cold, hara.s.sed by cruel dogs, and tortured to make sport for brutal boys. How much kinder and more really humane to take upon ourselves the momentary suffering of causing the death of an animal than to turn our backs and leave it to drag out a life of torture and misery!

HARRIET BEECHER STOWE.

AUNT ESTHER'S RULE. [Footnote: Published by Ticknor & Fields, 1867]

One of Aunt Esther's rules for the care of animals was "Never frighten an animal for sport." I remember that I had a little white kitten, of which I was very fond, and one day I was amusing myself with making her walk up and down the key-board of the piano, and laughing to see her fright at the strange noises which came up under her feet. It never occurred to me that there was any cruelty in it, till Aunt Esther said to me: "My dear, you must never frighten an animal. I have suffered enough from fear to know that there is no suffering more dreadful; and a helpless animal, that cannot speak to tell its fright, and cannot understand an explanation of what alarms it, ought to move your pity."

HARRIET BEECHER STOWE.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE LION AT HOME From a Painting by Rosa Bonheur]

LION STORIES.

A large lion was once to be seen in a cage in London. He was so big and fierce that many persons came to have a peep at him.

One day his keeper opened the cage door and put in a little black dog.

Everybody wondered what the lion would do. As for the little dog, his heart beat fast with fright and he cowered against the side of the cage.

The lion looked down at the small, shrinking form, but he did not growl or roar. Perhaps he was lonely and glad to have a companion. In some way he must have told the dog that he need not be afraid, for presently the little fellow put out his tongue and lapped his huge friend on the lips.

After that they were very good friends, and the lion often allowed the little dog to tease him and pull his mane. When they were fed, the lion stood back like a true gentleman, and let the dog have his dinner first.

He seemed to know that because he was so strong, he must be gentle to the weak and helpless.

Gerard, the great lion-tamer, once brought home from Africa a baby lion.

He named it Hubert and for a time it was his pet and playmate.

When it grew large, Gerard sent it to Paris. The next year he went to France and visited his pet. The lion was in a cage, and when he saw his master, he began to quiver with excitement.

Gerard put his hand between the bars, and Hubert snuffed it eagerly.

"Hubert!" said the lion-tamer. "My old soldier!"

With a furious bound the lion sprang upon the bars. He stood close against the grating and filled the building with his roars of joy. His enormous tongue sc.r.a.ped his master's hand, while with his paws he vainly tried to caress him.

After a time he grew more quiet, but whenever Gerard turned to leave him, there were the same heart-breaking moans and roars.

Daily, Gerard spent hours in the same cage with his pet, and the two were very happy together.

Several years ago a lion and a lioness were in the menagerie at Paris.

Their keeper, Mr. Felix, was taken ill one day, and could no longer attend to them. The duty of feeding them and keeping the cage clean fell upon a stranger to whom both lion and lioness took a strong dislike. The lion would sit, for hours, at the end of his cage, with bristling mane and flaming eyes. He refused all food from the hands of the new keeper and roared at him so furiously that no one dared to go near the cage.

Days went on and it was evident that something must be done or the lion would become seriously ill. Fortunately, Mr. Felix was getting well, and one morning, intending to surprise the lions, he crept softly to the cage and showed his face between the bars. In an instant the lion sprang forward, patting the man's arm with his great paws and showing the greatest delight. The lioness also ran to him, but the lion drove her back and seemed unwilling that Felix should show her any favor. Fearing that they might quarrel, the keeper entered the cage and caressed them by turns. The huge beasts obeyed him promptly as if eager to show how much they loved him, and peace and quiet were thus restored.

Rosa Bonheur, whose pictures of animals are among the most famous in the world, loved the wild creatures that she painted. At one time she had for a model a fierce lion named Nero who, after a while, had to be taken away to Paris.

The day came when he was to go. The horses that were to draw the great beast's cage to the city s.h.i.+vered with dread at the odor of the flesh- eater. Nero was quiet, but he looked sadly at his mistress, and his gold-yellow eyes seemed full of reproach.

[Ill.u.s.tration: ROSA BONHEUR.]

Months later the artist went to see him in one of the gardens of Paris.

He was blind and dying.