Page:Harper's New Monthly Magazine - v109.djvu/529

From the Diary of a Cat

BY EDWINA STANTON BABCOCK

MONDAY.—Very uncertain and lamentable conditions of the weather, much dampness and discomfort. This morning I was forced to rise early, as it appeared that the cook at the house where I occasionally stay wished to use the coal-scuttle in which I passed the night. I conveyed to her that she might have it and welcome, that its usefulness to me was, for the time being, over; and intimated that I should be obliged to her if she could furnish me with any suggestions as to where I might obtain a breakfast. She thrust me out of the gate. I turned and surveyed the cook with a look of reproach; the cook had not a graceful foot—yet I determined to accept it as an omen, and I kept on in the same direction in which I had been, as it were, impelled. Thus a calamity often saves us indecision. Being impelled in any direction is better than no progress at all. I proceeded with some deliberation around the edges of many puddles toward an ash-barrel which I could dimly make out through the gray dawn. I saw very little that was worthy of my attention, but after acute search, walking slowly around the rim of the barrel, I at last descried a small chicken bone half embedded in the ashes. With some degree of exertion I drew it forth and made a delicious repast. My breakfast completed, and my personal appearance all that I could render it, the weather being so unpropitious, I spent the day in short excursions up and down fire-escapes and in an observing ramble down Back Fence Boulevard. At last the sun came out. and I found a convenient porch step, and passed the remainder of the day in quiet reflections.

Tuesday.—. . . .For a long while I have been very curious about a garden with a spiked fence enclosing it, which I pass daily on my promenades over the roofs. I often pause to look down upon it, and I have three times had the same dream about it. In the dream I thought that I had somehow obtained access to the garden, and that I dwelt there amid scenes of luxury and content. I did not lack for adventure and sport, for there were droves of entrancing white mice tripping here and there; enticing birds flew from tree to tree and played rarely at my favorite game of catching and eating; and besides all this there was a fountain of milk spinning high in the sunlight, with tender goldfish roving about in the great basin and endeavoring to attract my eye. It is not surprising that since my vivid dream I have used every device to effect an entrance into the garden, but I have not discovered a crack nor a crevice where I can creep in. Always, on my tours over the roofs, I have kept this object in mind. I have surveyed the situation carefully and accurately from every possible view-point, making estimates and measuring, and at last I think I can gain an entrance to the garden in four

In my dreams there were droves of
entrancing white mice

jumps. The first three I have essayed and found practicable, but the fourth jump is a feat of peculiar requirements. What agility I command has not yet proved equal to it, yet I am determined to accomplish it.

This fourth jump I have failed in repeatedly. Friends of mine who have unfailingly achieved well-nigh impossible leaps have warned me against the dangers attending this one. But it seems to me that what may not be crawled under must be jumped over, and so far in practising the jump, though