The Story of My Cats 



the help of old age, had killed him. Would 

 he have gone back to Avignon, had he had 

 the strength? I would not venture to affirm 

 it. But, at least, I think it very remarkable 

 that an animal should let itself die of home- 

 sickness because the infirmities of age prevent 

 it from returning to its old haunts. 



What the patriarch could not attempt, we 

 shall see another do, over a much shorter di- 

 stance, I admit. A fresh move is resolved 

 upon, to give me, at long length, the peace 

 and quiet essential to my work. This time, 

 I hope that it will be the last. I leave Orange 

 for Serignan. 



The family of Gingers has been renewed: 

 the old ones have passed away, new ones have 

 come, including a full-grown Tom, worthy in 

 all respects of his ancestors. He alone will 

 give us some difficulty; the others, the babies 

 and the mothers, can be removed without 

 trouble. We put them into baskets. The 

 Tom has one to himself, so that the peace 

 may be kept. The journey is made by car- 

 riage, in company with my family. Nothing 

 striking happens before our arrival. Re- 

 leased from their hampers, the females In- 

 spect the new home, explore the rooms one 



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