Daisy: the autobiography of a cat

by Miranda Eliot Swan

Of course I expressed my pleasure, and, making myself comfortable, I prepared to give my best interest to the story.

"My mother was born in New York. While quite a small kitten she was given a nice home with people who believe that no home is complete without the family cat. She was a very large cat, striped like a tiger, with a beautiful long tail. She was amiable and affectionate.

"The people were very kind to her, and she was quite happy. They were not very wealthy, but they had great expectations. An old uncle, a very Crœsus, owned the estate they lived on, and a magnificent one adjoining, where he lived with a widowed sister. He was a childless widower, and made no secret of his intentions in regard to them.

"Of course they were not sure of his millions. He had given them a life interest, but should the children offend him, he would wash his hands of them at once. He was a rough, irascible, outspoken old man, despising shams, and a falsehood he would never forgive. He was a tender-hearted friend to animals, but his special favorites were cats.

"He was very fond of my mother, and she returned his affection. Tige, as she was called from her beautiful stripes, would run to meet him when he came to the house, walking very proudly by his side. He always noticed her kittens, always taking one for his own, while he would see that the rest were disposed of in a humane manner.

"When I was born, he made me his favorite. There were three besides myself, and we were called a very handsome family. My little brothers and sister were to be kept. Some friends of the family, who were cat lovers, were to have them, while I was to be the pet of my mother's old friend.

"My mother enjoyed us, for she was allowed to nurse us all till we were old enough to be weaned. Three of them were striped like my mother. I alone was Maltese. Probably I favored my father; never having seen him, I cannot tell.

"It was the first of July, and two of the boys belonging to the house were at home on a vacation. They were not bad boys, but were full of life. Boys will be boys, you know. They had been kind to my mother, though rather rough, and she kept her kittens out of their reach.

"We all found them changed for the worse, and I was sorry they had a long vacation. They were never still. They drove the pony in a reckless manner, and gave the poor dogs no rest.

"Tige, my mother, had always been a favorite; now, though they seemed fond of her, they were teaching her tricks all the time, making her jump over strings and hoops when she was sleepy and did not want to be troubled. And then they would take up the kittens by the tails, to hear them squeal, saying, when their mother remonstrated, that it did not hurt them.