Mower County transcript., 1891-04-01
ROUGH ON CATS.
A Novel Invention by Which They
Are Captured
The Inventor . Man of Genius Who Has
An Intense Dislike for the Feline
Race-No More Back
Yard Concerts.

Race-No More Back
Yard Concerts.
The only Keely's motor is still in the
ether, but the inventive genius of Phil
adelphia has not ceased to burn bright
ly. A Philadelphia machinist, John J.
Chattaway, has invented device for
capturing feline minstrels. Quiet as of
the cemetery is absolutely essential to
7 the comfort of Philadelphian, but the
quaker cats have not as yet learned to
mitigate their nocturnal concerts or to
temper their lovelorn lays. They patrol
{ the fences and the back yards with the
noisy vehemence of their kind, and
protesting Philadelphia waves it's night
cap and shouts and screams in vain. But
the researches of the ingenious Mr..
Chattaway have shown how to bell the
cat. The part of the town in which he
lives, so writes an enthusiast in the
Philadelphia Times, sis the arcadia for
all the lovemaking toms and tabbies
in the neighborhood. On his back fence
: and On the back fences of all his neigh
bors it has been the nightly custom,
? rain Or shine, for hundreds of nocturnal
prowlers to congregate and there hold
discordant revel" Poisoned meat and
spring traps were tried without effect.
The cats laughed at them. Broken
glass, barbed wire, and other amulets
against the fencehaunter were equally
useless. The cats continued their vo-
ciferous proceedings, and the inhabit-
ants swore and suffered.
In the sleepless nights the brain of
Chattaway kept working at plan for
conquering the invader of his peace. It
came to him finally in a dream. 'From
his ash-pit he dug a pile of empty
tomato cans, and out of these supple
mented by roll of condemned roofing
tin, which a sympathizing neighbor
kindly donated, he manufactured con-
trivance that, if universally adopted,
will rob the funny photographers of one
of their most fecund sources of supply"
His completed device for a cat-compeller
is a continuous strip of pyramidal-
shaped tin, the apex of the pyramid
being placed on top of the fence. The
base OF the tin triangle is left open, and
its sloping sides hang over the fence
and stand out from it's face. AS the
apex of this tin roof comes to a sharp
point, and it's sides are too smooth even
for the claw holds of cat, the result,
when a tom or tabby attempts to cross
it, is obvious. AS soon as their feet
strike the tin they are bound to slip,
and fall on one or the other side of
the fence is inevitable. AS the tin sides
project beyond the face of the fence it
is impossible for the fallen feline to
climb back to it's perch again"
The first nights catch is thus re-
ported:
''It was late Monday afternoon when
Machinist Chattaway finished mailing
his cat-compeller in place, and the curl
Gus neighbors wondered what it all
meant. Darkness had nearly fallen be-
fore the cats began to congregate. AS
Machinist Chattaway's house is near
the middle of the block, his back fence
was sort Of meeting place, and the
spot where all combats were arranged
and fought out. The night was not so
dark as to prevent the confident in
ventor from witnessing the result from
his library windows. The first cat to
strike the compeller, gigantic tom,
sprang upon the tin coping with a meow
of disdain. Like a flash Toms maltese
body described a semi-circle, and, much
to his amazement, he landed in the
yard. Recovering himself, and with
his feline mood up, Tom gripped the
fence and scrambled upward. His head
struck the projecting tin, and after one
or two futile attempts to get q claw
hold he slid back into the yard, sans
spirit, sans mode, sans confidence. Tom
realized that he was prisoner, and lay
low, uttering from time to time a sub
dued and mournful meow.
HE was not long without company.
A tabby was the next victim, and al
though he recognized her as an old-time
sweetheart, and she identified him as =
once-favored beau, neither had any
heart for love-making, but crouched in
opposite corners of the yard, disgustedly
blinking at each other. From that
time on until dawn cats came, and but
few escaped. Those that were fortu-
nate enough to fall on the alley side Of
the fence scampered away, with their
distended tails aloft.
early thenext morning the smiling
inventor softly opened his back door
and peeped out BY actual count there
were seventeen cats in the yard. Old
fighters and young fighters were hud-
died together. Misery had made them
forget their animosities, and they
greeted the machinist with frightened
, stares and mournful whines. When he
opened the back gate they rushed out
into the alley and scampered away"
Cotton in Bombay.
In Bombay, as in Lancashire, SCOT
ton is king" says the Pail Mall Ga.
zette. The boats plying in the harbor,
the wharves of the splendid docks, the
picturesque bullock-carts that throng
the streets are all sscotton." After New