Just here something extraordinary happened, and I must say in connection with it, that I have marvellous luck in remeeting persons and animals.
My master suddenly exclaimed, “I am frightfully thirsty, Boy. Let us stop at this nice little cottage, and see if that old lady in the window will give me a drink.”
Master drew up the car by the side of the road, got out, and I jumped after him, and whom do you think I saw rolling on a bed of cat-nip under the kitchen window—my acquaintance of a night some time ago—the Lady Gay cat.
She knew me at once, and with a surprised purr sprang toward me. “How do you do, dog, I am glad to see you. I believe you saved my life by getting me to stop stuffing myself. It was my only pleasure in that dreadful place, and it cost some effort to give it up.”
“Do tell me about yourself,” I begged her, “and hurry up. Master won’t wait long, I’m sure.”
She smiled the smile of superior knowledge. “Yes, he will, when Granny gets talking to him. She’s the most crackajack old woman you ever saw.”
“Her face looked fine,” I said, “as I saw it through the window.”
“Ah! she’s the woman for me,” said the cat fervently, “but you want to know how I got back to her. Just after that evening I saw you, things began to go badly at the eating-place. The help broke the dishes, and got saucy, the people off the street didn’t patronise us, the man broke his leg, and the woman got melancholy. One day when she sat staring at the floor, I happened to pass in front of her.
“‘I believe it’s that black cat,’ she said, springing up and running to the room where her husband lay in bed. ‘We’ve had bad luck ever since we picked her up.’
“‘Don’t be a fool,’ he said roughly.
“But he couldn’t stop her. ‘It’s true,’ she said, ‘I’ve heard bad luck always follows stolen animals, and your luck don’t change till you take ’em back.’
“The man was quite angry, but he couldn’t change her. Didn’t she, the next Sunday, in spite of their lack of money, take the train and bring me out here.
“She brought the basket in which she had confined me right in here to Granny. ‘Look here,’ she said (she is a great, fat woman and very outspoken), ‘I did an awful thing a few weeks ago. I stole the cat I saw sitting near this house. I don’t know whether it’s yours or not, but I want you to help me get it back to its rightful owner. I believe it brought a kind of spell on me.’
“Granny opened the basket, and oh! how gently she took me out and stroked my fur. ‘It’s my cat,’she said, ‘and I thank you for bringing her back. Sit down, and I’ll make you a cup of tea.’
“The woman was very glad to sit down, and have some tea and talk, after her ride in the train, and while I licked my fur into shape, I listened to what my dear old Granny said to her. Now, I want to tell you this, just to convince you what a good mistress I had, for you seemed to think I was a little soft to mourn so much.
“Said Granny, ‘Why did you steal my cat?’
“‘To hunt mice,’ said the woman. ‘An eating-house always draws them.’
“‘But, you could have got one in the city. Why take my little friend, who loves the country?’
“‘City cats ain’t no good,’ said the woman. ‘They’re all sick, except the rich cats that have a nice place to play.’
“‘Stealing is always wrong,’ said Granny.
“‘You bet it is,’ said the woman. ‘I ain’t goin’ to steal nothin’ again. I was brought up right. I had a good mother.’
“‘How is your business getting on?’ then asked Granny, for she likes to know all about any one she sees.
“‘Rank,’ said the woman, ‘the place needs a new fit-out, and the landlord won’t do it.’
“‘By fit-out, what do you mean?’ asked Granny.
“‘I mean new paper, new linoleum, some mirrors—folks love to stare at themselves, and I want a little closet fitted up with a looking-glass and a washbasin, so the shop-girls can fix their hair, and powder their faces when they comes in to eat.’
“‘How much would it cost?’ asked Granny.
“‘Two hundred dollars at the least,’ said the woman in a dreary way. ‘It’s a big place.’
“Granny went to her grandmother’s soup-tureen in the closet, and took out her stocking. She has a stocking, you know, but you must not tell any one. She doesn’t believe much in banks.”
“She wasn’t going to give the woman money, was she?” I inquired.
“Wait and see,” said the cat, who spoke quite slowly and mouthed her words, as if she did not often have a listener.
I find that longing to talk with cats and dogs and human beings too. So many are ready to talk—so few want to listen.
Well, the black cat went on to tell me that the woman looked as amazed as if she had seen a ghost, when good old Granny began counting out the five dollar bills.
“‘You don’t mean to say you’re going to lend me the money,’ she exclaimed.
“‘Just what I’m going to do,’ said Granny. ‘I’ve two good sons. I brought ’em up right, and they slip me in a five-dollar bill every time they write. I’m going to lend you what I’ve got.’
“‘You’re going to lend me money,’ cried the woman, ‘when I stole your cat?’
“‘You’re going to be a better woman in the future,than you have been in the past,’ said Granny. ‘I can see it in your eye.’
“Then the woman broke down and cried, but recovered herself when Granny began to count the money. They went over it together, and made out one hundred and ninety-five dollars.
“‘Take it,’ said Granny, holding out the stocking, ‘and bring it back when you get good and ready. There’s no hurry.’
“The woman held tight on the stocking, but she said quite anxiously, ‘How much interest will you charge?’
“‘No interest,’ said Granny.
“This broke the fat woman all up. She cried and sobbed, and when she found in addition that Granny didn’t want even an I. O. U., she hugged and kissed her, as if she had been her daughter. She told Granny all that had ever happened to her, and they became great friends on the spot.”
“Hurry up,” I said to the cat, “I see master drawing on his gloves.”
We had moved into the cute little hallway of the cottage, and I could look in through the kitchen door and see master talking to the old lady who had made him a cup of tea just as she had done for the fat woman. I think he was telling her about the baby, for she had a photograph album on the table between them, and had been pointing out pictures of little children to him.
“That’s a fine story,” I said—“what’s the end?”
“There isn’t any end,” said the black cat triumphantly. “It’s still going on. The woman comes outhere every Sunday evening when trade is low, and she brings goodies to Granny, and Granny goes in to see her once a week, and goes to a show with her, and tells me all about it when she comes home.”
“And the restaurant,” I said, “did they make it over?”
“Granny says it’s a dream now, with bright yellow and red and purple flowers on the wall, and a fine mirror, and lots of water and towels, and there’s a big crowd all the time.”
“And the money?” I went on.
“Granny’s getting it all back—ten dollars a week, and the woman loves her like a daughter. Granny never had a girl, just boys.”
I pushed my inquiries a little further, “And how does the woman treat you?”
“Like a Christian. She says, ‘No one need ever say nothin’ agin’ black cats to me. There’s more in animals than most folks reckon.’”
“Good-bye,” I said running after my master who had shaken hands with the old woman, and was jumping into the machine. “That’s a fine story. I’m mighty glad you had a safe exit from your troubles.”
“Call again,” said the cat to me, and “Call again,” called Granny to master, as we sped away.
The next interesting thing that happened to me was the home-coming of the baby. My! my! what a fuss—the apartment refurnished, renovated, fumigated, aired and reaired. Master, whistling as cheerfully as a school-boy, gave up his lovely front room and bath to his little pickaninny.
“You and I won’t mind the view of the backs of apartment-houses, will we, Boy?” he said to me.
Of course I didn’t mind. Anything to make him happy, and to keep with him. I was mortally afraid he would get like those silly nurses, and send me out of the house.
At last, the great day came, and master and I took the car out to the hospital. Mistress all wrapped up and veiled, and baby and nurse got into it, and we tooted back to the city.
Master had warned the maids that mistress had got very thin and nervous, and they must be extra gentle and quiet in their manner with her. They were lovely to her face, but they almost cried in the kitchen over her changed looks.
“Oh! dear,” whimpered cook, “ain’t she the holy fright—the darlin’ thing,” and Annie said something even worse. However, from that day on, they never criticised her as sharply as they had before. The baby had brought a new spirit into the house.
My dear master still thought his wife was beautiful, and I could see that he was perfectly terrified, lest she should eat too many sweets and get fat again. He offered her a diamond necklace, if she would stop eating chocolates, and he watched her at the table, and coaxed her not to touch any puddings that had a rich sauce.
One day, he found a little bit of brown paste on her upper lip. “Dearest,” he said anxiously, “have you been eating chocolates?”
She blushed like a naughty child. “Just one,” shesaid; “nurse had some. But I won’t do it again,” she went on shaking her head, “I’m really anxious to please you, Rudolph.”
He kissed her quite warmly for him, and pushing the table away, sat down quite close beside her, and began to read.
I was delighted that she liked to have him read to her now, but it made a great difference to me. She used to watch the clock with cunning eyes, and get more and more interested in what he was reading, the later the evening grew. Sometimes, she asked a question which did not exactly fit in, for example when he was declaiming about the war in Poland, and she said, “I always did dislike Spaniards.”
He laid down his book. “I said nothing about Spaniards, my dear.”
Her thoughts had been wandering, and she couldn’t speak till he gave her a clue. “I was reading of the woes of the Poles.”
“That is what I meant,” she said, “Poles of course, I never did care for them.”
“I didn’t know you had ever met any,” he said dreamily, then he plunged again into his book.
She was nearly dead with sleep that night, and soon she said, “Rudolph, would you just read me something about children, before I go to bed?”
He put down the war-book, and took up one of poetry. I was sleepy too, but I caught a phrase, “The cry of the children,” and later in the night, this phrase came back to me.
We had no walk—it was too late to go when mistresswent to the baby, and master said to me, “Let us turn in too, Boy-Dog.”
It was good we got a little sleep early in the night, for we had rather a disturbed time later.
While master was undressing, he talked to me about children. “Poor little wretches,” he said. “How much they have to cry about. So many troubles that they outgrow with age.”
I listened to him with interest. I used not to know much about children, for I had never been thrown much with them, my owners being mostly childless or unmarried persons. However, as I told Gringo when I first met him, I had a great respect for the very young of the human kind, and I thought them remarkably clever.
Since the baby came, I had been observing him closely. His little face looked to me very wise, and sometimes his expression was almost painful, as if he were trying to tell us something of a wonderful place he had come from. But the poor little soul had no words to express his thoughts. He just waved his little fists, and rolled his head in despair.
Master had gone quite daffy on the subject of babies. Dating from the day that he had heard of the arrival of the baby, he stared at every child he met in the street. He gave pennies to poor children, and watched them with delight when they ran to a candy shop. He stopped the perambulators of rich babies, and begged permission of the nurses to look at them. All babies were dear to him, because he had one of his own.
To come back to this night, I slept for a while, thenI woke up with a feeling of great distress. Some one was in trouble near me. I could hear nothing, smell nothing, but I knew it was so, and I sprang uneasily from the big chair where I slept, and went to my master’s bed.