“Nor eat one, I suppose,” he added, roguishly.
“No, indeed,” with an expression of contempt.
“They are thought by some to make a delicious meal,” he went on with mock gravity. “A fricassee, for instance. Here is a recipe for the cooking:—
“Skin the cat thoroughly, cut it in pieces, and soak twenty-four hours in vinegar; then anoint it with garlic and honey, after which it is fried like a young chicken.”
“Horrible!” exclaimed Mrs. Belcher; while Mrs. Lee confessed, much as she esteemed cats, she could not relish such a meal.
“Is it possible they are ever used for such a purpose?” she inquired presently.
“Certainly, my dear; among the negroes they are considered a great dainty, and Gœthe, in his ‘Rifleman’s Comrade,’ said the soldiers at Palmero ate them with a relish.”