Aileen Aroon, A Memoir

"Iwould do it without the slightest hesitation."

  "Well," said I, "I mean to perform the same good office for you. Icannot see you starving there without trying to ease your sufferings,and so--"

  Here I sprang at the cage. I draw a veil over what followed.

  And now my appetite was appeased, but my conscience was awakened. However should I be able to face my mistress again? Hark! what is that?It is Miss Laura's footstep on the stair. She is singing as sweetly asonly Laura can. She approaches the door; her hand is on the latch. Ican stand it no longer. With one bound, with one wild cry, I dashthrough a pane of glass, and drop almost senseless on to the lawnbeneath the window.

  It was sad enough to have to leave my dear mistress and my dear oldhome, which, despite all I had endured, I had learned to love, as onlywe poor pussies can love our homes. But my mind was made up. I hadeaten Miss Laura's pet canary, and I dare never, never look her in theface again.

  Till this time I had lived in the sweet green country, but I nowwandered on and on, caring little where I went or what became of me. Byday I hid myself in burrows and rat-haunted drains, and at night cameforth to seek for food and continue my wanderings. So long as the grassand trees were all around me, I was never in want of anything to eat;but in time all this changed, and gradually I found myself caning nearerand nearer to some great city or town. First, rows upon rows ofneatly-built villas and cottages came into view, and by-and-by thesegave place to long streets where never a green thing grew, and I passedlofty, many-windowed workshops, from which issued smoke and steam, andmuch noise and confusion. I met with many cats in this city, who, likemyself, seemed to be outcasts, and had never known the pleasures of homeand love. They told me they lived entirely by stealing, at which theywere great adepts, and on such food as they picked out of the gutter.They listened attentively to my tales of the far-off country, where manya rippling stream meandered through meadows green, in which the daisiesand the yellow cowslips grew; of beautiful flowers, and of birds inevery bush. Very much of what I told them was so very new to them thatthey could not understand it; but they listened attentively,nevertheless, and many a night kept me talking to them until I was sotired I felt ready to drop. In return for my stories they taught me--orrather, tried to teach me--to steal cleverly, not clumsily, as countrycats do. But, alas! I could not learn, and do as I would I barelypicked up a living; then my sufferings were increased by the cruelty ofboys, who often pelted me with stones and set wild wicked dogs to chaseme. I got so thin at last that I could barely totter along.

  One evening a large black tom-cat who was a great favourite of mine, andoften brought me tit-bits, said to me, "There's a few of us going outshopping to-night; will you come?"

  "I'll try," I answered feebly, "for I do feel faint and sick andhungry."

  We tried some fishmongers' shops first, and were very successful; thenwe went to another shop. Ill as I was, I could not help admiring thenimble way my Tom, as I called him, sprang on to a counter and helpedhimself to a whole string of delicious sausages. I tried to emulateTom's agility, but oh, dear! I missed my footing and fell down into thevery jaws of a terrible dog.

  How I got away I never could tell, but I did; and wounded and bleedingsorely, I managed to drag myself down a quiet street and into a garden,and there, under a bush, I lay down to die. It was pitilessly cold, andthe rain beat heavily down, and the great drops fell through the bushand drenched me to the skin. Then the cold and pain seemed all at onceto leave me. I had fallen into an uneasy doze, and I was being chasedonce more by dogs with large eyes and faces, up and down in long wetstreets where the gas flickered, through many a muddy pool. Then Ithought I found myself once again in the fields near my own home, withthe sun brightly shining and the birds making the air ring with theirmusic. Then I heard a gentle voice saying--

  "Now, Mary, I think that will do. The cheese-box and cushion make sucha fine bed for her; and when she awakes give the poor thing that drop ofwarm milk and sugar."

  I did awake, and was as much surprised as pleased to find myself in anice snug room, and lying not far from the fire. A neatly-dressedservant-girl was kneeling near me, and not far off a lady dressed inblack sat sewing.

  This, then, was my new mistress, and--_I was saved_. How different shewas from poor Miss Laura, who, you know, did not _mean_ to be cruel tome. This lady was very, very kind to me, though she made but littlefuss about it. Her thoughtfulness for all my comforts and her quietcaresses soon wooed me back again to life, and now I feel sure I am oneof the happiest cats alive. I am not dirty and disreputable now, nor ismy fur matted. I am no longer a thief, for I do not need to steal. Mymistress has a canary, but I would not touch it for worlds--indeed, Ilove to hear it sing, although its music is not half so sweet to me asthat of the teakettle. Of an evening when the gas is lighted, and abright fire burning in the grate, we all sing together--that is, thekettle, canary, and myself. They say I am very beautiful, and I believethey are right, for I have twice taken a prize at a cat show, and hopeto win another. And if you go to the next great exhibition of cats, besure to look for me. I am gentle in face and short in ears, my fur islong, and soft, and silky, and my eyes are as blue as the sea in summer.So you are sure to know me.

  Ida sat silent, but evidently thinking, for some time after I hadfinished.

  "That is quite a child's story, isn't it?" she said at last.

  "Yes," I replied; "but don't you like it?"

  "Oh yes, I do," she said--"I like all your stories; so now just tell meone more."

  "No, no," I cried, "it is quite time we returned; your auntie will beback, and dinner waiting; besides, we have about three miles to walk."

  "Just one little, little tale," she pleaded.

  "Well," I replied, "it must be a very little, little one, and then we'llhave to run. I shall call the story--"

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  LOST; OR, LITTLE NELLIE'S FAVOURITE.

  "It was a bitterly cold morning in the month of February, several yearsago. How the time does fly, to be sure! Snow had been lying on theground for weeks, and more had fallen during the night; the wind, too,blew high from the east, and the few passengers who were abroad made thebest of their way along the street, I can assure you, and looked asthough they would rather be at home and at the fireside. I myself wasout in the cold from force of habit. It had long been my custom to takea short walk before breakfast, and as the post-office of our village wasonly half a mile from my residence, going down for the letters thatarrived by the first mail afforded me just sufficient excuse for myearly ramble. But on this particular morning, as I was returninghomewards, I was very much surprised to find my little friend Nellie Maystanding at her gate bare-headed, and with her pretty auburn hairblowing hither and thither in the wind.

  "`Why, Nellie, dear!' I exclaimed, `what can have sent you out of thehouse so early? It is hardly eight o'clock, and the cold will kill you,child.'

  "`I was watching for you, sir,' said Nellie, looking as serious as alittle judge. `Do come and tell me what I shall do with this poor dog.He was out in the snow, looking so unhappy, and has now taken up hisabode in the shed, and neither Miss Smith nor I can entice him out, orget him to go away. And we are afraid to go near him.'

  "I followed Nellie readily enough, and there, lying on a sack, which hehad taken possession of, was the dog in question. To all intents andpurposes he was of a very common kind. Nobody in his senses would havegiven sixpence for him, except perhaps his owner, and who that might bewas at present a mystery.

  "`Will you turn him out and send him away?' asked Nellie.

  "The dog looked in my face, oh, so pleadingly!

  "`Kind sir,' he seemed to say, `do speak a word for me; I'm so tired, myfeet are sore, I've wandered far from home, and I am full of grief.'

  "`Send him away?' I replied to Nellie. `No, dear; you wouldn't, wouldyou, if you thought he was weary, hungry, and in sorrow for hi
s lostmistress? Look how thin he is.'

  "`Oh!' cried Nellie, her eyes filling with tears, `I'll run and bringhim part of my own breakfast.'

  "`Nellie,' I said, as we parted, `be kind to that poor dog; he may bringyou good fortune.'

  "I do not know even now why I should have made that remark, but eventsproved that my words were almost prophetic. It was evident that the doghad travelled a very long way; but under Nellie's tender care he soonrecovered health and strength and spirits as well, and from that day forthree long years you never would have met the girl unaccompanied by`Tray,' as we called him.

  "Now it came to pass that a certain young nobleman came of age, and agreat fete was given to his tenantry at P--Park, and people