The Pulaski citizen. [volume] (Pulaski, Tenn.) 1866-current, 1878-07-04
For the Citizen.I
A Chapter on Cats Continued J.
BY EsTELLE yEHsE.

BY ESTELLE VEHSE.
What was our astonishment to
hear just before the dawn of morn
ing Friday" holding a grand opera
under our window His rich con-
tralto voice fell upon our ears like
unto human utterances with grief
and vengence intermixed, seeming
ly In these words, and we fairly
shuddered:
o, get out, I'm not sold,
It's cold, it's cold
Conspiracy!
Muscle and claws,
And timber Jaws,
Have come, you see!
He remembered his wrongs and the
bag episode for long time, and
showed his feelings by turning his
beautiful fur the wrong way when
he came near US seeking the caress-
ing hand of his master. We never
loved Friday, but learned to respect
him for his devotion to his protec-
tor.
Again we owned a cat by the
name of Malone. She was beauti-
full, playful and affectionate. She
WAS intelligent, and we tried to
teach her many things, for which
she proved her love and gratitude
by the offering of all her TIT bits of
food to US before partaking. Some
times it would be a frog, sometimes
a mouse, and sometimes a butterfly.
Sometimes she would be savage
enough to bring us Lizard. But
one day her devotion and attention
lost her her life. She brought us a
snake and turned it loose at our feet
as we sat reading, and it crawled up
into our lap!
A friend owned an immense jet
black cat and called him Turk. He
often coiled at her feet for his day
snoOze. A neigbor's servant came
in one day and said, "Mistress sent
me over to tell you Tom had the
shingles, and would you, please
mann, let me bring Turk over to
get little blood from the tip of
his tail to cure his shingles?' When
the servant entered the room the
cat was sleeping at his mistress
feet, When the message was deliv-
cred and consent obtained, Turk
had slipped out unseen aad could
not be found. And never from that
day to this has he been seen or
heard of by the family with whom
he had lived for years, doing all
their rat-catching for his bed and
board. This was resentment for
the indignlty intended, his protec-
tor being party to it; and strange
as it is, it is true. The petted cat is
a prince in luxury. No financial
depression or speculative mania dis
turbs his repose. No efforts after
office chase the calm serenity from
his mind. No schisms in church
throw shadows beneath his golden
sky, or the thousand and one tenets
distract his mind, leaving him to
grope in darkness at the risk of a
peaceful rest in the Great Beyond.
No terror of want, or the moaning
for love and tender hands to care
for him, subduing him to sadness
a very prince in contentment!
Brutes they are, to be sure, but what
peaceful, comfortable lives they
lead
1t is almost enough to make us
wish we were q cat-somebody'
petted cat-out in China-when we
try to face the ups and downs in
lite, and tint with a golden hue the
wintry sky of "our discomfort"
A cat with it's fur like soft white
ermine snow sleeps near us while we
write about Ler race, opening upon
us occasionally with slight NEW
and pur, the grandeur of her soft,
Opaline eyes. We have
taught her nothing save her name,
leaving her to nature, because we
do not want any more snakes laid
al our feet as an offering, if that is
the highest expression of a cats
fTHE-END. j