Five Mile Beach weekly journal., 1906-12-19

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it was Tom. Most cats of his per-
suasion are called Tom. 1t Is a
sort of noncommittal name and is
no burden to the cat. Mark Twain
says he once killed a promising bunch
of cats by overlooking them with
names. He called them Zoroaster,
Sour Mash, Apollinaris and Blather-
skite. l once knew a cat named Plupey
Shute, but he was fairly husky and did
not seem to mind it. We might COM
promise by calling this especial feline
Micawber. He was always looking for
something. Mostly it was for some
thing to eat, and when 1t wasn't that 1t
was for trouble.
Micawber had had a hard life. What
between the world, the flesh and the
small boy he was up against 1t most
of the time. AS a kitten he had been
reared in comparative luxury, but that
time now seemed to him, when he
thought of 1t at all, like a dim, sweet
dream. Mostly he did not think of it,
being too busy with everyday affairs,
such as fighting, lodging stones and
looking for provender. The family
where he had lived in his happy youth
had moved away, forgetting to take
him along. The next occupants of the
house did not want him, so he was
thrown out on the cold world. He did
not leave voluntarily, but after being
chased out, kicked out, locked out and
doused with hot water a sufficient num-
Der of times he finally took the hint
that his company was not desired. He
did not so much mind the indignities,
but rude, physical assault panied and
surprised him. There are some things
that even a cat will not stand.
After that for the most part, he
lived in a back alley. He slept in a
barrel by day and went on voyages
of exploration and discovery by night.
He did not find much but tribulation
and s-craps-scraps that were eatable
and scraps with other felines. Some
times, when driven by hunger, he ven
tured out by day. Occasionally he
caught sight of a mouse, a bird or q
chipmunk. Then, motionless and alert,
he would watch it for what seemed
ages. The patience of a cat is a
thing that should be mmortalized on
q AloDuultnt. Willie VII lICSt uulIy
outings he had to jump sideways and
straight up to get out of the way of
playful brickbats and clods hurled in
his direction. He became as expert in
lodging missiles as a millionaire in
evading a court summons. Only Mi
cawber knew nothing about million
aires. He belonged to the hoi polloi.
Most of the time he lived the strenuous
life. He became expert in war through
many trouncings. He learned to lick
everything he could not make love to.
He had no morals to speak of and was
never troubled by conscience or altru-
ism. When living the simple life he
was mild and meek looking and had a
voice as gentle and pleading as that of
a book agent. Blu when on the war
path he was q cyclone and emitted
yells that would wake up the block.
He was a bad man from the mountains
and was yearning to make the world
acquainted with the fact.
Now, there are cats and cats, as you
doubtless know. Sometimes there are
too many of them, especially at night.
Mlcawber belonged to this overplus.
The cats voice when tuned up is not
exactly like the music of the spheres.
but attracts more attention. When ex-
cited by wrath feline language has a
diabolic quality that sounds like bias
phemy. So does the language of the
man who is stirred out of his rest
thereby. If some Garner could dis
cover just what feline small talk means
hn nro,11J dn1hfIaCO hrinn 10 on notice
an original and delicious array of
swear words that would enrich the
language
Through long practice Micawber had
developed a voice that ran all the
gamut Of hideousness. 1t scooted
through all the scales of discord and
embraced all the octaves of inharmony.
1t was not musical, but penetrating.
1t was chaotic, criminal and assault
provoking. 1t expressed all that Is
fiendish and m~alevolent. 1t had in it
the despair and error of a lost soul,
the wall of a defeated demon. 1t was
a scandal, an outrage and an infamy.
The steam siren got all its sliding scale
of diabolism, all it's crescendo Of cussed-
ness, all its switchbacks and shoot the
chutes of the infernalism of sound
from the feline voice.
Yet to regard Micawber's sleepy
eyes, his jnoffensive demeanor and his
playful disposition one could not sus-
pect him of h%arboring such sentiments.
You would not imagine that under that
fluffy and amiable exterior could be
rolled up SO much noise and depravity
-on the outside, i~noffensive and guile
less docility; on the inside, murder,