“Isn’t that a nice story?” cried Minnie, joyfully clapping her hands.
“I had no idea there were such pleasant things about cats,” said Ida, laughing at her cousin’s enthusiasm. “Fidelle has risen wonderfully in my estimation. But don’t let me detain you, dear uncle.”
“I see here,” he said, “a curious account of a cat, published by M. Antoine in France.”
“In a French cloister, the hours of meals were announced by the ringing of a bell. A favorite cat belonging to the establishment was accustomed, as soon as she heard the summons, to run quickly to the dining hall, that she might be fed.
“One day it happened that puss was accidentally shut up in a room by herself when the bell rang, and could not therefore obey the summons. Some hours after, she was let out, and instantly ran to the spot where dinner was always left for her; but no dinner was to be found.
“In the afternoon, the bell was heard ringing at an unusual hour. The inmates of the cloister ran quickly to see what was the cause of it, when, to their surprise, they saw the cat clinging to the bell rope, and setting it in motion as well as she was able, in order that she might have her dinner served up to her.”
“I hope they gave her a good one,” urged Minnie. “I’m sure she deserved it for being so smart.”
“I have no doubt of it,” remarked the gentleman, smiling. “Now, here is a story of another French cat.”
“It was of a kind known as the Angora variety, a very beautiful creature, with silvery hair of fine silky texture, generally longest on the neck, but also long on the tail. Some of them are olive, the color of the lion; but they are delicate creatures, and of gentle dispositions.