Cat and Dog; Or, Memoirs of Puss and the Captain

by Julia Charlotte Maitland

I had not omitted a good-humoured bark to Pussy when we started, by way of farewell; for she came to see us off, though she was too humble to expect an invitation to join the party. I fully supposed that we should return in an hour or two, and that I should have the pleasure of telling her my morning's adventures. But we travelled up hill and down hill, through strange villages and an unknown country, and still we went on and on, without any symptoms of turning.

In time we stopped at an inn, where my master had his dinner; and I went with John to the stables, and saw him feed the horses, and then followed him to the kitchen, where he too ate his dinner, and gave some to me. Then we set off on our journey again. Now I thought we were surely going home; but no; still straight on through new roads all day till the sun went down and the evening grew so dark that I could not see the country; and yet no talk of returning. John stopped the carriage, and lighted the lamps; and then on again, at the same steady pace, through the unknown land.

Tired of travelling in the wrong direction, as it appeared to me, and without any object, I curled myself round at John's feet and took a long nap. On waking, I found myself in a scene altogether strange to me. We were passing through the streets of a city. I sat up and turned my head from side to side, quite bewildered by the difference between such a place and the country villages in which I had passed my life.

"Ah, you may well look about you," said John; "you are not the only one that hasn't known what to make of London."

The noise and confusion were astonishing. Though it was now so late that every body ought to have been asleep in their kennels, the innumerable lights in the houses made the night as bright as day. The streets were swarming with people; men and women, carriages and horses, even dogs and cats, met us every moment. I supposed they must be a kind of savages, who came out in the night like wild beasts, and I tried barking at them to frighten them back to their dens; but it had no effect, and John bade me be quiet. Indeed, I myself perceived that it would be a hopeless task to bark at everybody that went by. Their numbers were like the autumn leaves falling from the trees in our avenue during a high wind, and I could only suppose that next day I should find them all swept up in heaps at the side of the road.

At last we stopped before a house; and very glad I was to be ordered to jump down and go in, and not at all sorry for the good supper that was presently given me. I was too tired even to wonder where I was, or to do or think of anything that night except going to sleep; and that I did thoroughly, after my long journey.

But next day I was myself again, and up early to explore the premises. What I saw at first was not much to my taste. I did not admire my kennel; it was decidedly dull, fixed in the corner of a small courtyard surrounded by high walls. No trees, no river, no garden; nothing to be seen but a square patch of sky above the walls; nothing to be heard but a continual heavy rumbling outside. I soon grew tired of watching the clouds, and pacing round the little court; and as soon as the house was open, I found my way to the street door. There I could certainly not complain of being dull. If London had seemed bustling the night before, what was it now by broad daylight, with the full sun shining on the countless passengers! I could scarcely keep still myself, with the excitement of watching such incessant movement.

To my great disappointment, before long, John called me in, fearing that I might stray from the house and be lost or stolen. Of course, I obeyed him directly; but he perceived my vexation, and good-naturedly showed me a locker under the hall-window, where I might sit and study the humours of London at my pleasure. I thought I should never be tired of looking out of that window. The scene was so new and charming, that it reconciled me at once to my present situation, and even to the hours which might necessarily be passed in my ugly kennel. I really preferred it to the Manor.

There, even while my master and Lily were living with me, we were a good deal left to ourselves. A few foot passengers and carts might come by in the course of the day, carriages and horses perhaps once in a week. Visitors, if they came, stayed for hours, so that I had ample time to make myself master of their characters, as well as those of their horses and dogs. Every body whom I knew at all, I knew intimately; and notwithstanding Pussy's hints about rash judgments, I doubt whether I was ever really in danger of mistaking an honest man for a thief. But if my old home was more favourable to tranquil reflection, certainly this place had the advantage of amusement and variety. Here there was no time for studying character, nor doing anything else leisurely. I scarcely caught a glimpse of any one, before he was out of sight. A quiet nap was out of the question; if I so much as winked, I lost the view of something. The stream of comers and goers was ever flowing. Nobody stood still, nobody turned back; nobody walked up and down, as my master and his visitors used on the terrace, while I observed their manners; here, as soon as one had passed, his place was taken by another. I watched for hours, expecting that some time or other they would all have gone by, and the street be left to silence and to me. But nothing of the sort happened; they were still going on and on, crossing each other in every direction; and for as many as went by, there seemed always twice as many yet to come.

In time I grew less confused, and I went out walking with my master or John until I knew my way about the streets, so that I could be trusted to go out by myself and come safe home again.