bass voice, as grave and deep as M. Prudhomme's own:—'Have you breakfasted, Jacko?'
"Have you breakfasted, Jacko?"
"This utterance so terrified the cat that she sprang backwards. The blare of a trumpet, the crash and smash of a pile of plates flung to the ground, a pistol-shot fired off at her ear, could not have frightened her more thoroughly. All her ornithological ideas were overthrown.
"'And on what?' continued the parrot. 'On sirloin?'
"Then might we, the spectators, read in the face of Madame Théophile:—'This is not a bird; it is a gentleman: it talks!'
"The cat cast a glance at me which was full of questioning, but, as my response was not satisfactory, she promptly hid herself under the bed, and from that refuge she could not be induced to stir during the whole of the day."
There is no doubt that the cat is, in our day, more petted, and praised, and bred, and showed than ever it was before. To describe all the classified breeds and varieties, with their special points and markings, is impossible here; those who desire to know these things in careful and exact detail should consult Harrison Weir's book on cats. Of long-haired cats there are the Angora, the Persian, the Russian, and what not; and of short-haired, more than I can here enumerate. Some people prefer a cat the rarer or the more curious it is,—abnormal and exotic varieties, like the Manx cat and the Japanese cat, which are tailless; the Chinese cat, which has lop ears; and the Royal Cat of Siam, which is a singular-looking creature, usually chocolate and white, or dun and white in colour, and very short of fur, especially on the legs and tail. But the true lover of cats must say of cats as the soldier said of ale, "All kinds are good, though most kinds are better than others."
Angora cat.
Enough has been said, I think, to show that the cat is worth attention and cultivation, not only because of its beauty and intelligence, but also for its pecuniary value. The cat has long been misunderstood and misrepresented. It has been accused of untameable ferocity, because when driven to the extreme of nervous dread, it has bitten and scratched; it has been accused of cunningly murdering babies in their cradles, because it has innocently tucked itself away with the baby in its fondness for warmth; and it has been accused of lack of attachment, though quite as credible stories are told of the cat's faithfulness and fondness as of the dog's: cats as well as dogs have been known to pine and sicken and die after the loss of a beloved friend or master. It is no less agreeable to be able to write that human beings have also shown themselves ready to die to save their cats. Champfleury tells a story of a sailor-boy who would not leave a sinking ship without his cats. The ship was run into by another, and so much damage was done that the crew had to leave her in all haste. They were safe on board a passing vessel before the captain, looking round among his com-
