The Republican journal. [volume] (Belfast, Me.) 1829-current, 1896-05-21
The Hearthstone Sphinx.
The Character of russ as Compared With That
of the Dog.

OF the DOG.
Compared to a cat, dog is very sim
pie and transparent creature. Sometimes,
indeed, he is guilty of acts of deception
and hypocrisy, but they are crude and in
genuous compared to the unfathomable
wiles of a cat. Mr.. North's dog, for in
stance, who ate the pigeon out of the pie
and stuffed up the hole with Mr.. North S
ink sponge, was not an adept in the art of
theft; and IA fox terrier with whom the
present writer enjoys the intimacy of
common household has disgraced herself
this last week by what was, to all intents
and purposes, lie, when little more
aStuteness would have shown her the tu-
tility OF talsehcod, in the face OF an alibi.
She had been tearing up paper and strew-
ing it about the 1ioor, with fine literary
freedom, when the servant whose duty it
was to clean the carpet asked her, with
magisterlal severity, NV no tone those let
ters"' he cuipllt looked at first terribly
abashed, and hung her head and tail in
expectation OF chastisement, till her mis-
less, as a Trial, observed, II wonder did
Gyp do it?'' (Gyp was the offenders usual
Glanced was miles oil at the moment
Instantly the pertdious little wretch per-
ceiyed a way ot escape f.on the penalty
OF her own misdeeds by throwing the
blame Oh her hiend, and looking up
briskly, shook her tail frantically and al
most nodded "Nuu are right. 1t was
that wicked Gyp, AS for re, ! am quite
incapable OF touching piece OF paper.
Ii is as useless tor d dog To attempt
these deceplions as for a good honest
Englishman to profit by the counsels OF
Macchiateli. But the case is quite differ
ent with cat. She is a domestic sphinx
Whose countenance is solemn as that of
hel stony prototype, who has gazed for
sixty centuries over the field of death at
GhjZeh, and whose tail is not, as George
Eliot describes the tail of dog, a ''vehi-
Gle for the emotions" and never betrays
her, except in the case OF leonine rage.
No philosopher, we are persuaded, ever
yet got to the bottom of a cats mind
She is a bette incomprise, for good and for
evil. No one fathoms her implacable re-
sentiments, her deep, unspoken suspicious
OF her enemies, or her unalterable conf
dence and gratitude toward her friends
Few people attempt to study her; she is
rarely even given a name (unless it be the
phddlc anu lltdulHSieSS everlasting Mill
nie), but is spoken of, like a poor work
house orphan, by her surname, as "the
cat'-or in the vocative, ''Puss''--and
treated a little better by one, little
worse by another. bnt rarely watched
with any attention OF sympathy, such as
many of US bestow on our dogs. Yet
there must be something really profound
in a cat S feelings, since there are number
less instances ON record where they have |
persisted and died tor grief at the loss Of
their masters OF mistreSses; and the fol- |
lowing, which occurred last week affords |
touching proof Of a sentiment still more
rare IN any animal-pure friendship. A
correspondent writes to us:
Col. C--'s little black and tan pet |
dog Flo died last Monday morning about |
3 o clock. He had had her for many years. |
and she had long had an internal com
plant. She was d dear, little, affection
ate, intelligent creature. and had always |
been treated as kindly as a child He
buried her i'll his garden, and over her lit
Tie grave his housekeeper's children shed |
many tears. lesterday | heard from him,
as follows: ''Another of my domestic pets
was an Old black cat, which came to ne a |
kitten years ago, few weeks before | |
brought Flo from oxford. They grew up |
toeeChel, ana We're very fonG OF each |
other, eating from the same plate aud |
blinking nom the same glass | have |
often seen them stand side by side before |
my lire, and occasionally put their mouths
together, rs though they We're absolutely |
kissing. Wei, the poor Old cat seemed |
very miserable all day yesterday (that is,
Monday, the day on which Flo he'd died,
ealy i'll Me morning,) and We could not
induce her to eat. She could not be
found last night when the house Was
closed, but as this occasionally happened,
not much Was thought Of H. This NOM
ing she was found stiff and cold, stretched
ont by the side OF Flo's grave could
not have believed it, if | had not seen it
with my own eyes. Whether it is only
coincidence, | viii not pretend to say, but
would rather believe that the poor ami
mai died from grief at the loss of her old
friend. But if so, how did she know that
Flo was dead? Such a fact as this leads to
strange thoughts, or what would be call
ed strange, by those who can see in these
creatures only dog or only a cat. -
When we reflect on the amount of
thought and tenderness of sentiment
which this story reveals, does it not seem
as If, in our usual treatment of cats, we
must be stupidity ignoring something very
wonderful and beautiful close beside us
all day long? London Spectator.