"It happened that Dinah had three little kittens hidden away in the wood-shed chamber, and you can imagine under these circumstances, when even the most timid animals are bold, how fierce such a cat as Dinah would be. Unfortunately for Bruno he chose this time to rummage in the wood-shed for bones. We did not know how the attack began, but suppose Dinah spied him from above, and made a flying leap, lighting most unexpectedly to him upon his back, for we heard one unearthly yell, and out rushed Bruno with his unwelcome burden, her tail erect, her eyes two balls of fire, and every cruel claw, each one as sharp as a needle, buried deep in the poor dog's flesh. How he did yelp!—ki! ki! ki! ki! and how he ran, through the yard and the garden, clearing the fence at a bound, and taking a bee-line for home! Half-way across the street, when Dinah released her hold and slipped to the ground, he showed no disposition to revenge his wrongs, but with drooping ears and tail between his legs kept on his homeward way yelping as he ran. Nor did he ever give my brave cat the opportunity to repeat the attack, for if he chanced to come to the house in his master's company, he always waited at a respectful distance outside the gate.
"It would take too long to tell you all the wonderful things Dinah did, but I am sure you all agree with me that she was a remarkable cat. She came out in a new character when I was ill with an attack of fever. She would not be kept from me. Again and again she was driven from the room where I lay, but she would patiently watch her opportunity and steal in, and when my mother found that she was perfectly quiet and that it distressed me to have her shut out, she was allowed to remain. She would lie for hours at the foot of my bed watching me, hardly taking time to eat her meals, and giving up her dearly loved rambles out of doors to stay in my darkened room. I have thought some times if I had died then Dinah would have died too of grief at my loss. But I didn't die; and when I was getting well we had the best of times, for I shared with her all the dainty dishes prepared for me, and every day gave her my undivided attention for hours. It was about this time that I composed some verses in her praise, half-printing and half-writing them on a sheet of foolscap paper. They ran thus:—
'Who is it that I love so well?
I love her more than words can tell.
And who of all cats is the belle?
My Dinah.
Whose silky fur is dark as night?
Whose diamond is so snowy white?
Whose yellow eyes are big and bright?
Black Dinah.
Who broke the lamp, and in the gloom
A ball of fire flew round the room,
And just escaped an awful doom?
Poor Dinah.
Who, to defend her kittens twain,
Flew at big dogs with might and main,
And scratched them till they howled with pain?
Brave Dinah.
Who at the table takes her seat
With all the family to eat,
And picks up every scrap of meat?
My Dinah.
Who watched beside me every day,
As on my feverish couch I lay,
And whiled the tedious hours away?
Dear Dinah.
And when thou art no longer here,
Over thy grave I'll shed a tear,
For thou to me wast very dear,
Black Dinah.'
"Did you really used to set a chair for her at the table and let her eat with the folks?" Fanny Eldridge asked.