She was a most watchful and affectionate mother, and had endeavored, to the best of her ability, to bring up her kittens in the manner best approved by all sensible and well-bred cats.
They were allowed to remain with their mother, until the critical period of weaning was past, when Miss Stevens declared one day, in Mrs. Grimalkin’s hearing, that such a scampering round her kitchen was not to be endured, and that she intended the next day to distribute them round the neighborhood among her friends.
This was sad news for their mother, as you may suppose; but after turning it over in her mind several times, she concluded it was better than having them strangled or drowned, and forthwith began to give them advice as to their conduct when away from her.
They all set up a piteous mewing at their hard fate, but with one shake of her paw she shut up their mouths and went on with her speech. She especially forbade their associating promiscuously with all the cats in the neighborhood, or attending any moonlight concerts without her leave. She told them any time when they needed exercise, they could call for each other, and come down to the maternal wood-shed, when she would be most happy to see them; and she would occasionally, when mousing was scarce, and there was nothing going on, return their call.
So Muff, and Jet, and Brindle, and Tabby, and Spot lay down by their mother’s side for the last time, and purred themselves to sleep; as for their mother, she wandered up and down the yard half the night, in a very unquiet frame of mind, occasionally returning, to look at her kittens, who lay cuddled up in a bunch in blissful unconsciousness.
About a month after this, I was one day passing through the yard, and who should I spy but Mrs. Grimalkin, surrounded by her family, the happiest cat in all Pussdom. I stepped softly behind the door, determined for once to play eaves-dropper, and hear what was going on.
Muff “had the floor,” and was giving her mother an account of the treatment she met in the family she lived with. She said there were four ungovernable children, who amused themselves when out of school in trying to see whether her tail and ears were really fastened on tight or not. Then they had stroked her back the wrong way, till every hair stood up, as if it was frightened; had shut her up in a shower-bath, and turned water on her till she had fits, and never found her comfortably snoozing in a warm corner, that they did not rouse her up to make her run round after a ball, till she was as crazy as a fly in a drum. In short, mother, said she, I’ve heard people say such a one “leads a dog’s life of it.” I say, let them try a cat’s life once.
As soon as she had finished, up jumped her brother Jet. He was as black as a little negro, with the exception of four little milk-white paws; he had little shining black eyes, and whiskers as trim as any modern dandy’s. He had no such misfortune to relate, not he. He slept on a rug, in the corner of his mistress’s parlor, and had a nice chicken-bone to pick, and a saucer of milk to drink, when he wanted it. His mistress was an old lady, and she had such nice little parties to tea, and they all made a pet of him, and it was so amusing to lie curled up on the rug, and hear them talk over all the gossip of the village. So, with a very complacent look, as if he had quite fulfilled his destiny, he trimmed his whiskers, and sat down on his hind paws, to hear what his sister Brindle had to say.
Poor Brindle was very bashful, and it was a long time before she could speak at all. She looked thin and bony, as if the world in general, and her mistress in particular, had snubbed her; indeed she acknowledged that she was half starved, and beaten every day beside, for stealing food enough to keep her bones together. Here she was seized with a horrid fit of coughing, which so distressed her mother, that she forbade her talking any more, and told her to stay and spend the night with her, and she would give her some supper, and some catnip, to cure her cough.
It was now Spot’s turn. She said she had her story all “cut and dried,” but really she had been so shocked at the idea that Brindle had been stealing, that she thought it was a chance if she could recollect any of it. She said, for her part, she should be ashamed to have any cat in the neighborhood know that she was related to her. Here her mother sprang at her and gave her a box on the ear; and told her, that her grandmother, Mrs. Mouser, who was as correct a cat as ever mewed, brought her (Mrs. Grimalkin) up, to find her living when and where she could, and that every cat that had been born since Adam’s cat (if he had any), had done the same, and she never could find out that they were expected to do any differently. Spot looked a little ashamed, for in fact she had taken many a sly nibble herself, and her mother knew it.