Every time he shows himself above water the cat climbs up on his back from behind and scratches and bites him so mercilessly that he has no choice but to dive again.
He treads water, bristles up, and arches his back; while Grey Puss spits, gurgles, and splutters. He makes an attempt to bite; but a claw plunges into his snout and stops there....
He puts up a forepaw to free his snout; but a lightning bite paralyses the paw....
He is breathing water now instead of air. ... He is slowly losing consciousness—but the claw still hangs fast....
He flounders no longer; he sinks, but this time he does not rise.... The poor old cat-nihilist is reformed at last!
HOME-SICKNESS
Now that Box was dead Grey Puss had only mankind to fear!
She hated mankind, which surpassed even her in cunning and rapacity—and yet, she could never forget that she had once been a member of the human household.
Mankind was her strong, invincible rival! Once for all, on the occasion when it had lured her into the sack and flung her into the water, it had imbued her with such terror of its incredible treachery that she could not bear to hear, smell, or see it. But none the less in the depths of her soul she admired it immensely....
She hated it, so that she could have torn its throat asunder, and yet she loved it so intensely that she erected her tail and purred contentedly at the mere thought of rubbing her back once more against a pair of trousered legs.