I think I ought to conclude my chapter of Clever Cats with this story, which, though old, is funny:—There was a lady of Potsdam, living with her little children, one of whom, while at play, ran a splinter into her foot, causing her to scream violently. The elder sister was asleep at the time, but awakened by the child’s cries, and while just in the act of getting up to quiet it, observed a favourite Cat, with whom the children were wont to play, and which was of a remarkably gentle disposition, leave its seat by the fire, go to the crying baby, and give her a smart blow on the cheek with one of her paws; after which, Puss walked back with the greatest composure and gravity to her place, as if satisfied with her own conduct, and with the hope of being able to go on with her nap undisturbed.
CHAPTER VIII.