At last the cats have had a show of their own, and for the time being their old enemies, the dogs, have been forced to take a back seat, and sulk at the attention which the 250 and more pussies received from the girls and boys and grown-up people at the Madison Square Garden in New York. It has been a gala-time for the children, especially, and the petting which the different tabbies received would have turned their heads had they not been so well-bred and aristocratic. For the common tramp cat, who knows no better than to give unwelcome concerts on the back fence at night, or the scraggly kitten, whose one ambition is rat-catching, had no place among the cats who made their first public bow and mieuw a week ago. Only those whose great grandpapas or grandmammas were distinguished people in the cat kingdom were allowed to be exhibited.
After all, the cat kingdom isn't nearly so large as the dog kingdom. All of our domestic cats are grouped under two distinct heads—the short-haired European or Western cat, and the long-haired Asiatic or Eastern cat. The tortoise-shell, white, black, blue, or slate-color (Maltese), and the tabbies are embraced in the European, and the Asiatic includes the Persian, Angora, Russian, and Indian. So that it is ever so much easier to learn what class your cat belongs in than to know the different kinds of dogs.
What an attractive sight the long rows of dainty cages, each fitted up in royal fashion for its feline occupant, made! Here at the beginning of the long row of wire houses, "Dick," a miniature tiger, slept with eyes half closed (as every good cat always does), and his right paw outstretched, as if in his dreams some poor little sparrow were within clutching distance. Not far away "Charles Dickens," a very aristocratic Maltese, was purring out his compliments to a little girl who was vainly endeavoring to educate him to eat peanuts.
Then there was "Columbia" and her two kittens, "Yale" and "Harvard." The readers of the Round Table never saw their older brothers wear their college colors more bravely than these wee little kittens. Their fawn-colored mother would get them quieted down after some merry romp, and then they would suddenly begin another friendly fight, and roll over and over again, till it was impossible to tell whether the blue or the red was victorious. Near by was a "happy family" of short-haired spotted cats from Elizabeth, New Jersey, consisting of a great-grandmother, grandmother, mother, and seven kittens. And how proud gentle great-grandmamma was when her granddaughter captured the second prize in her class.
Perhaps our President would feel pleased were he to know how much attention his namesake "Grover Cleveland" had at the show. He is a rich, brown tabby, with wide black stripes, and was given a blue ribbon, the mark of the first prize. He took it all very calmly, as much as to say, "You couldn't do anything less for one with such a name as mine."
But even "Grover Cleveland" was not so aristocratic-looking as "Grover B.," from Philadelphia. His short-haired coat was as white as the stone door-steps of the houses in his native town, and—think of it—his mistress values him at $1000! So well brought up is he that he sits at the table with his master and mistress in a high chair and feeds himself with his paw. His master says that he eats more quietly and gracefully than their little nephew of five years, who, when he spills his bread and milk, is told he can profit by "Grover's" example. So fond of him is his master that his head appears on all his business paper and envelopes, so that "Grover B." is known all over the world, and, through his pictures on his master's envelopes, has travelled more extensively than almost any other cat.
An even more wonderful short-haired cat was "Mittens," who has actually been trained to love and live with birds. "Mittens" is a great deal of a swell. His grandfather was a pure-blooded Maltese, and his great-grandmamma was a very haughty Angora. All the traditions in his family prompted him to consider birds as his natural prey and dogs as his enemies. When he came to his present mistress, Mrs. M. L. Ponchez, the latter had two Yorkshire terriers, a parrot, eight canaries, a red-bird, and several chameleons, and of course she thought it would be pretty difficult for "Mittens" to live in peace with all these other pets. She thought she would try to teach him to be friendly to the birds and dogs, and this is what she did.
She first kept all of her pets a day without food, and then the next day placed the cat between the dogs while she fed him his breakfast. After that the cat and the dogs became such good friends that they all slept together. At the next meal she took one of the canaries, put him on her finger, and petted him while she held "Mittens" in her lap and fed him. This she did several times, and then let all of the birds fly around the cat. The latter never attempted to touch one, and frequently to-day you may see "Mittens" slumbering peacefully before the fire, with a canary nestled on the soft fur of his back.
IN THE LONG-HAIRED CAT-ROOM.