by dismissing his entire household. The Church of Rome, indeed, was not long permitted the exclusive privilege of sheltering and petting the cat. The day came fast when her Sister of England followed pliantly in her wake. If the poet Rogers felt genuine delight at being allowed to dine in Italy with a Cardinal and his cats, the guests of Bishop Thirlwall were destined to enjoy the same simple pleasure at Saint David's. His pussies sat on the arms of his chair at table, and shared—or dispensed—the hospitality of the palace. Of other luxuries they appear to have had the monopoly. A visitor who observed that his host looked wearied and uncomfortable, asked him why he did not take an easy chair. "Don't you see who is in it already?" said the Bishop, pointing to a grey cat fast asleep on the cushion.
Canon Liddon's "extravagant partiality" was equally pronounced, and, let us hope, equally agreeable to his friends. He was the proud possessor of a number of cats, who appear to have all had different residences assigned them. Two handsome brothers, christened stupidly Tweedledum and Tweedledee, lived at Amen Corner; another shared his chambers; a fourth, named Campion, was boarded out, and only visited the Canon occasionally; and a fifth preferred the Common room at Christ Church to any other quarters. This cat was
