We had before this eventful day rehearsed our parts, and I had provoked them with my stupidity. I did make fun enough with that hat. I hitched it on the back of my head, getting out first one ear, then the other; for they had tucked my ears in, saying my face looked so innocent without them. It was all mischief, for I intended to do my best.
Mrs. Knight threw open her nice rooms, and in the hall room off the back parlor the tree was placed.
They were obliged in the afternoon to keep me prisoner upstairs. I was disgusted, for I wanted to be in the thick of it all. I could not sleep, and I kept pretty near the door, ready to run out if I could get a chance.
At seven o'clock they dressed me in all my finery, and before eight all our guests had arrived: Madam A., a lovely woman, and one of our best friends, with her three noble boys, and a sweet-faced little bit of a woman whom every one who knew her called cousin; then Madam M., with her daughter and granddaughter,—charming people, and all my dear friends. These, with Mr. and Mrs. Knight and their son Stacy, with ourselves, made a party of (reckoning myself) seventeen,—quite a roomful.
I thought (and I can assure you a cat's opinion is of some value) that the Queen might be proud to see such beautiful, refined, and highly educated people at her drawing-room. To be sure, there were no décolleté toilets, but then it was a proof of the good sense of the people. Of course the Queen would not admit cats to her receptions; it would not be safe. The bones would be a temptation, and I fear cats would not respect even elderly bones, or spare them though decked with diamonds. I am happy to say that my party was purely democratic; they were really all my equals.
The back parlor door was thrown open, and we were in full view of them all. The three boys in ragged clothes, bare legs, old shoes, were as hard a looking crew as ever accompanied a hand-organ. Will had the organ strapped to his back, and I sat upright on it. I was tied to Will's arm, and Josie held another string, for they could not trust me, fearing I would run under the sofa, at the expense of my tall hat and my dignity.
We were greeted with a burst of applause. The boys so successfully assumed the street gamin air, and looked so thoroughly demoralized, as they pulled their forelocks in recognition of the greeting, that no wonder they brought down the house, and for a short time obscured my august self. Stacy and Will gave a song in nasal style, pretending all the while to grind the organ, while I was mounted on Will's shoulder, swelling with importance.
Then they began "Yankee Doodle." Josie shook the castanets, Stacy beat the drum, Will ground the organ and sang, while they all danced like street Arabs.
I was perfectly beside myself. Oh, if I had only been Balaam's ass, wouldn't I have made a speech! I ran to and fro on the organ, then rolled over and over, my hat on one ear, my coat up my back, around my neck, and my tail wagging from the red pants, in fine style.
The boys looked on in wonder, for it is needless to say that this act was not on the programme, but an impromptu act of my own—and it was the crown of the performance.