Pussy-Cat Town

by Marion Ames Taggart

Three days later the moon looked down on a more wonderful sight than she had seen since the cow had jumped over her,—more wonderful even than she had seen then, for this sight was much more than one cat with a fiddle.

Six cats and three kittens led a procession of at least a dozen more cats out of the town and along the wooded country roads. Ban-Ban was ahead. He had a big red bow on his collar, which poor Rob had tied on, intending the Maltese cat to look his best when expected company should come that evening. He little thought that he was adorning Ban-Ban for a journey, and a parting that was going to cost himself keen grief!

But Ban-Ban had no room in his mind for Rob’s anxiety; he trotted proudly along, with his short, velvety ears pricked up, his nose alert for dangers. Close behind him marched Wutz-Butz, in case he was needed for a fight. Tommy Traddles came next, in case he was needed for advice. Kiku-san—he wore a beautiful pink ribbon, because Lois loved to see him well dressed—Kiku walked between Bidelia and Madam Laura, the only one of the party with a regret. His thoughts dwelt on Lois, and how troubled she would be when he did not come to bed that night, and she could not find him in the morning. Behind Bidelia came the three kittens, driving their young mother half crazy with their antics. They would not walk soberly, but frisked and played, and ran out of sight into the shadow, and sometimes half-way up a tree, until little Bidelia was sure that she would be quite as gray as Ban-Ban, but with another sort of grayness, from her worry, by the time she got to wherever they were going.

The stranger cats walked behind their leaders. They were all thin and sad-looking, for they had had no homes, and life had been most hard to them. They were glad enough to think that they were on their way to make their fortunes in a city of cats, where there would be no stones thrown, no dogs to chase them, no cruel boys to frighten and hurt them.

One of the stranger cats.

The six cat leaders all carried something. Ban-Ban had a big piece of beef. He had not stolen it, because it had been bought for him, but he had whisked it out of the refrigerator when the cook left the door open for a moment.

Wutz-Butz had dragged along a piece of red flannel. He was inclined to be stiff in his legs from rheumatism and his frequent battles, and he had no mind to sleep on the cold ground, though many a soldier before him has had no better bed.

Tommy Traddles had a pail of milk fastened over his shoulders,—Laura had tied it on for him,—and in his paws he carried an umbrella, because he knew that if it rained they would all hate to be out in the wet.