Read Letters From a Cat: Published by Her Mistress for the Benefit of All Cats and the Amusement of Little Children for Free Online

to do any thing but lie curled up on a soft cushion.
    She had outgrown my little chair, which had a green moreen cushion in it, on which she had slept for many a year, and of which I myself had very little use, — she was in it so much of the time. But now that this was too tight for her, she took possession of the most comfortable places she could find, all over the house. Now it was a sofa, now it was an arm-chair, now it was the foot of somebody's bed. But wher ever it happened to be, it was sure to be the precise place where she was in the way, and the poor thing was tipped headlong out of chairs, shoved hastily off sofas, and

    driven off beds so continually, that at last she came to understand that when she saw any person approaching the chair, sofa, or bed on which she happened to be lying, the part of wisdom for her was to move away. And it was very droll to see the injured and reproachful expression with which she would slowly get up, stretch all her legs, and walk away, looking for her next sleeping-place. Everybody in the house, except me, hated the sight'of her; and I had many a pitched battle with the servants in her behalf. Even my mother, who was the kindest human being I ever knew, got out of patience at last, and said to me one day: —

    " Helen, your Pussy has grown so old and so fat, she is no comfort to herself, and a great torment to everybody else. I think it would be a mercy to kill her."
    " Kill my Pussy!" I exclaimed, and burst out crying, so loud and so hard that I think my mother was frightened; for she said quickly : —
    " Never mind, dear; it shall not be done, unless it is necessary. You would not want Pussy to live, if she were very
    uncomfortable all the time."
    •
    " She isn't uncomfortable," I cried; "she is only sleepy. If people would let her alone, she would sleep all day.

    It would be awful to kill her. You might as well kill me!"
    After that, I kept a very close eye on Pussy; and I carried her up to bed with me every night for a long time.
    But Pussy's days were numbered. One morning, before I was up, my mamma came into my room, and sat down on the edge of my bed.
    " Helen," she said, " I have something to tell you which will make you feel very badly; but I hope you will be a good little girl, and not make mamma unhappy about it. You know your papa and mamma always do what they think is the very best thing."

    " What is it, mamma ? " I asked, feel ing very much frightened, but never think ing of Pussy.
    " You will never see your Pussy any more," she replied. " She is dead."
    " Oh, where is she ? " I cried. " What killed her ? Won't she come to life again ? "
    " No," said my mother; " she is drowned."
    Then I knew what had happened.
    'tWho did it?" was all I said.
    " Cousin Josiah," she replied ; " and he took great care that Pussy did not suffer at all. She sank to the bottom instantly."

    " Where did he drown her ?" I asked.
    " Down by the mill, in Mill Valley, where the water is very deep," answered my mother; " we told him to take her there." / . ' . - ; ' «.' - .
    At these words I cried bitterly.
    " That's the very place I used to go with her to play," I exclaimed. " I '11 never go near that bridge as long as I live, and I '11 never speak a word to Cousin Josiah either — never ! "
    My mother tried to comfort me, but it was of no use ; my heart was nearly broken.
    When I went to breakfast, there sat my cousin Josiah, looking as unconcerned

    as possible, reading a newspaper. He was a student in the college, and boarded at our house. At the sight of him all my indigna tion and grief broke forth afresh. I began to cry again; and running up to him, I doubled up my fist and shook it in his face.
    " I said I 'd never speak to you as long as I lived," I cried; " but I will. You 're just a murderer, a real murderer ; that's what you are! and when you go to be a missionary, I hope the cannibals '11 eat you! I hope they '11 eat you alive raw, you mean old murderer!"
    " Helen Maria ! "