"Those wee hit heaps o' straw and stubble,
That cost them mony a weary nibble."
These creatures breed at least four or five times a year; and you seldom find fewer than seven little baby-mice in each nest. The mischief these creatures sometimes work in grass fields, and in fields of newly-sown grain, is almost incalculable. Whole acres have been known to be destroyed in a single night. Cats are the greatest enemies these creatures have: they destroy them young and old, by the dozen, for mere sport—they seldom care to eat them.
In-doors, again, what would the baker, the miller, the draper, the grocer, or even the bookseller do, without his cat?
There is no prettier ornament, I think, a shop-window can have, than an honest-looking sleek Tom tabby.
"Yes, sir," a hosier said to me the other day; "I do like my cat. I shan't tell you, because you could not be expected to believe it, not being a business man, how much money I lost two years ago in one winter, by rats alone. I tried everything, traps and
