In the translation of words of the feline language the inflection of the voice must constantly be kept in mind, for this, as well as the sound, denotes the meaning intended to be conveyed. For instance, "meouw," spoken in the ordinary tone of voice, means "how," and is a salutation of good-will, expressed in English by "Good morning," "Good evening," or "How d'ye do?" When the same word is uttered in a high tone of voice the first syllable "me," strongly emphasized, as indicated in "meouw," hatred, or something akin to it, is expressed by the feline. Similarly, the word "purrieu," when spoken with a long roll of the letter "r" and a rising inflection to the last syllable, is a call of the mother to her kittens; when spoken with a shrill inflection to the last syllable, the word is a note of warning to her loved ones, and when the word is uttered in an ordinary tone of voice, while the Cat rubs her side against the dress of her mistress, it denotes satisfaction, affection, or it may be a part of the feline's system of cajolery. The word "yew," also, when uttered as an explosive, is the Cat's strongest expression of hatred, and a declaration of war, but it is, also, her word for expressing a feeling of pain, or giving notice that she is ill, when uttered in an ordinary, or perhaps, in a low tone of voice. In short, there is scarcely a word in the feline language whose meaning is not subject to four or more directly opposite interpretations, according to the inflections given in its expression. "Poopoo" means tired—"poopoo" with a slight emphasis upon the first syllable means sleep—"poopoo" with a strong emphasis upon the last syllable means work, and this drives the paterfamilias out after food for the infants and mother, but when the last syllable is spoken in an explosive tone, such as poor Mr. Caudle might have uttered when henpecked by his tantalizing wife during her curtain lectures. The same word "poopoo" when uttered with a falling tone on the last syllable, is an expression of sorrow and grief.
I do not know of any sounds more soothing to the nerves of man as musical, or as musically correct in rhythm, intonation or melody, as the song of the Cat when at peace with all the world. I have listened to it many times, and many times endeavored to translate the words of the song, but, owing to the fact that she sings with closed mouth, no word has been distinct enough to separate from other words of the song. Perhaps at no distant day science, through the medium of electricity, may furnish a means of discovering not only the words of the singer, but also many words of the feline language which, through ignorance, are now mouthed by the Cat for lack of knowledge of the importance of emphasis and clearness of expression.
[XXIV.]
THE IMPORTANCE OF SIGNS.
Signs, in the feline language, are almost invariably made through the medium of the muscles, and are adequate to every expression. To this language they are an absolute desideratum. Almost invariably they accompany the word-signs of the language from a habitually unconstrained feeling and a desire to better convey the meaning of the speaker.
To put into words every such expressions is more than word-language is capable of, which is the strongest proof of the inadequateness of words for the proper and sufficient expression of ideas, and the superiority of signs for the manifestation of ideas and desires. No tiresome, misleading and fallacious grammar, no stuffy, lame, meaningless dictionary, no wearisome spelling-book, containing words which are all "at sixes," born in the prize-ring, with a heritage of hatred for each other, and refusing forever to become reconciled one to the other; no unpronounceable pronouncing dictionary, in which words are all zigzag, stubbornly resisting every attempt to straighten out and stand them upright, like a man, but determined to inscribe themselves upon the brain in every conceivable pyrotechnical contempt of straight lines or uniformity in any respect, askew in reckless profligacy, in defiance of euphony and as uncontrollable as they are funny; no ridiculously prolix analyzer, no hobbling treatise upon syntax or prosody of a heterogeneous language of word-signs, invented to confound those who seek, as well as those who possess a knowledge of the language of signs. Yet many signs refuse to be disgraced by being rendered into words.
Noticeable among those of the signs unpronounceable are many expressed by the sons of Judah, Levi and Benjamin, such as the bending forward of the shoulders and extending of the hands, palms upward, and the placing of the index finger to the right hand upon the right side of the nose; the Frenchman's shrug of the shoulders, the gyration of the Englishman's finger while the end of the thumb rests upon the point of his nose; the twirl of the Irishman's shillelah, and his expressive manner of puffing smoke from his short-stemmed dhudeen; the sudden change from animation to stolidity in the German, and the multitudinous and inexpressible signs of the gesticulating children of sunny Italy.
In the sign language of the Cat an expression is conveyed in the same manner as by the human being, but the feline has a great advantage over man in the possession of more utilizing forces. There is the language of the ear, the tail, the limb, the body, the facial, including the mouth, the nose, the eye, the brow, the chin, the lip and the whiskers, the motion of the whole and the significant general appearance, as in the carriage while in motion, and the form when at rest.
The language of the tail cannot be misinterpreted, suggestive as it is of the feelings of the Cat. When she raises it, like a flagstaff, we know that she is proud of herself and satisfied with her condition, as well as the condition of all other things. When the appendage is an appendage to all intents and purposes, and streams out in the rear of its possessor, she is not letting the grass grow under her feet. When it waves from side to side it is a token of dislike of position and significant of a change. When it curls under her body it is a sign of fear, and when it is extended with the fur on end, "like quills upon the fretful porcupine," there is a strong probability that there will be commingled in the air untheological imprecations, a sulphurous blue tinge and loose fur. When it lashes from side to side it signifies a war of extermination. When it twitches, that is a sign of amusement. When it is pointed toward the fire it speaks of rain. When it inclines toward the door it says that its mistress may go shopping without an umbrella, and while it is curled upon its side it betokens that all is quiet along the owner's line of life.