XVI
CAT PRANKS
WHAT pleasant memories I have of my early years! How could I be other than a very happy cat, with a home so pleasant, and dear, kind friends? With the boys to play with, and everything to interest me, I have nothing but loving words to say on my own account, and I feel more anxious to try to help the cats who are not appreciated to homes and friends like mine.
With all my advantages, I must admit I was at times a great trial to those who loved me. If a boy had behaved as I did, it would have been called the "old Adam" in him. And with me I suppose it was the cat old Adam. I was full of life and fun, and a great hunter of everything that moved, from a leaf that rustled in the breeze to our natural enemy, a mouse.
I was very smart at the business of hunting, and the rats and mice that I destroyed I cannot tell. I wish I had kept an account, but when young I did not know the value of a journal and account book. It would be a real pleasure to me now, when memory is often treacherous.
I was never allowed to worry or torment them, though I had the desire, as every one has, to torment or worry something. Miss Eleanor would put her hand around my throat gently, but it would force open my mouth, making me drop my victim. Then it was at once killed.
One day I chased one under the bed. I knew it had received its death-blow, and I wanted to go in and worry it occasionally. My mistress did not know of it; she was not in the room at the time.
It was just about tea time, and I expected a scene when it should crawl out, as I feared it would. It was behind a box, and I could not move it or get at it with my paws; but I scratched on it with my claws to assure it of my presence and make it tremble. In this way I kept it all the evening, and I did dread their going to bed. I was so sleepy, it made me cross. They went to bed, and I fell asleep with a guilty conscience, for I knew it would be a dreadful fright to them if the mouse should appear.