The Story of My Cats 



panes, among the ornaments on the mantel- 

 piece, threatening to make short work of 

 everything. Mme. Loriol was frightened by 

 the Httle lunatic; she hastened to open the 

 window; and the Cat leapt out among the 

 passers-by. A few minutes later, he was back 

 at home. Arjd it was no easy matter : he had 

 to cross the town almost from end to end; 

 he had to make his way through a long laby- 

 rinth of crowded streets, amid a thousand dan- 

 gers, including first boys and next dogs; 

 lastly — and this perhaps was an even more 

 serious obstacle — he had to pass over the 

 Sorgue, a river running through Avignon. 

 There were bridges at hand, many, in fact; 

 but the animal, taking the shortest cut, had 

 used none of them, bravely jumping Into the 

 water, as Its streaming fur showed. I had 

 pity on the poor Cat, so faithful to his home. 

 We agreed to do our utmost to take him with 

 us. We were spared the worry: a few days 

 later, he was found lying stiff and stark under 

 a shrub In the garden. The plucky animal 

 had fallen a victim to some stupid act of spite. 

 Some one had poisoned him for me. Who? 

 It Is not likely that it was a friend! 



There remained the old Cat. He was not 

 "5 



