Strange to say, he did not recognize us as friends, immediately, but preferred to wait until he formed a closer acquaintance before he was victimized by our embraces or pettings, so he was consigned to the cellar, where he spent much of his time. When we would try to get him up, unless we succeeded in finding him asleep, he would climb a beam, and with great agility elude our efforts to capture him.
Having heard many stories of cats returning to their former homes, and having had some experience in that line ourselves, we were careful to keep Mozart in the house, lest he should make his escape and be seen no more. If he did manage to get out of the kitchen door in a clandestine manner, a ridiculous procession was formed of the bareheaded members of our family, and no peace was given the poor animal, until, after racing around the yard once or twice, he surrendered to our clutches. Truly our anxious efforts to capture the unwilling prisoner must have been a ludicrous sight to any unsympathizing spectator.
We let Mozart sleep in the kitchen, and this gave him the chance he apparently coveted, of sleeping on the table, which he did so obstinately, that we were finally compelled to resort to the expedient of turning the table on its side every night, so that if he slept on it, it would have to be in direct resistance to the law of gravitation!
Mozart also showed a great desire to make the table his dining-room, though this freak was explained on the arrival of my auntie May, who said that he had eaten on an old table in the barn at home. He also probably slept there. But with us he was obliged to make his couch on some old pieces of carpeting.
I now remember that I have not yet given a thorough description of my hero, and as that is properly one of the first things to do in a sketch of this kind, I must hasten to it. Mozart was clothed with a stationary garment of brownish-yellow fur—I do not know whether the artists would call it chrome yellow, yellow ochre, Naples yellow, or what. This garment was at regular intervals striped with rings of a darker shade, and these went completely around his body.
These rings reached their abrupt termination at the tip of the wearer’s tail. It is quite proper to insert just here the fact that once upon a time one of them fell off, and was found, a little wad of dark yellow fur, on the floor of the dining-room.
Mozart had eyes of a rather uncertain color (a peculiarity of his family, which you perhaps have observed), but they were probably nearer the color of his fur than any other of which I think. His head was shapely, and his ears and caudal appendage were graceful. Thus endeth the description of his personal appearance.
The reason for naming Mozart as I did, will be obvious when I state that he had unmistakable musical talent. As I cannot conscientiously praise his voice, I will remain silent about it, simply saying that it was very expressive, and that is more than can be said of some of the so-called fine singers of this country. His vocal organs seemed exceedingly devoid of elasticity, for their use was always confined to the one syllable and note—“Waa-a-a-a-a-a!” differing only in pitch and the length of time it was prolonged.
This difficulty prevented us from always comprehending Mozart’s language, save by his accompanying gestures and actions, and by the surrounding circumstances. But I have said more about his voice than I intended. As I said before, he had unmistakable musical talent. If he had not a musical voice, he had a musical ear (two of them, indeed!) and would listen with rapturous delight to any music. If anyone was playing on my piano, he would come and sit by the side of it, and either listen intently or try to find out by his whiskers from whence the sound proceeded. But if, while he was making these investigations, the piano would play very loud for a moment, he would shrink away, much frightened by the noise. If it was a special friend of his who was playing, he would sometimes jump into the person’s lap, getting as near as possible to the keys. Any rational and unprejudiced persons giving heed to these statements, will believe what I said about Mozart’s ears, I am sure.