Daisy: the autobiography of a cat

by Miranda Eliot Swan

I kept out of her way; but one morning she saw me coming in from the kitchen, and drove me upstairs with her duster. My mistress saw her, and was very indignant, though she did not say anything, but she never let me go down alone after that.

This woman had a little step-son. She kept him in from play with his friends on Saturday afternoons, to get his Sunday-school lessons, and he just hated her and the lessons, as a matter of course.

I used to play and chase my tail as if I did not know what it was, to divert his attention, for I did pity him. He was pleased, but it made him forget the long, tiresome answers. So I gave up trying to amuse him, for I did not want him to be punished. And when, after all my sympathy, he pulled and pinched my tail, I said, "He is a chip from the old block," and left him to his deceitful step-mother.

I felt very glad that, with all their sorrows and wrongs, cats never have step-fathers or mothers. It is better never to have known your own father than to have one who is always bringing you a new mother. And I guess, after all, there is just as much morality among cats as there is among human beings.

Sometimes there were days when I could not contain myself. I wanted to run and fight, and send forth my voice just as other cats were allowed to. The Bohemian blood my poor mother suffered from was answerable for this state of feeling.

At this time we lived in a flat on the fifth story of a very high building. It was a very small place, but we were passing through sad reverses just then, though I could not understand, else I would never have added to their trials.

Miss Milly would go away every day, and when she returned at night, looked so white and tired, it made me very anxious. Though she petted me, and called me her greatest comfort, she did not play with me, and her brightness was gone.

After she had gone in the morning, Miss Eleanor and I would go about and attend to our little work, and then, when she would sit down to mend the boys' clothes, she would take me in her lap and talk to me about their troubles.

The boys had both found places, and were working very hard and away all day.

We were lonesome. The kitchen had a large window, and outside there was a long wooden box made on it, and here the janitor brought fresh earth every few days, for it was my garden park and hunting ground. It was my only outing, for I never went down over the stairs. When I went out there, I was so near the sky that the earth seemed very far away. I did long for a run over the green grass.