SOME CATS OF FRANCE 189 



are the H of Hugo,&quot; said M. Vacquerie ; and the 

 remark seems to have been considered impressive, 

 rather than exceptionally foolish. Even in child 

 hood, this favourite of fortune was fed with sugared 

 praise. His schoolboy verses on &quot; The Happiness 

 which Study Affords in all Situations of Life,&quot; were 

 received with serious transport, as though so admir 

 able a sentiment were newly born ; and Chateau 

 briand, reading them, exclaimed fervently, &quot; Cet 

 enfant est un enfant sublime.&quot; 



A man who is talked to and written about in this 

 fashion all his life needs the corrective influence 

 of cats, and happily Victor Hugo was blessed in 

 his feline society. His pussies were one and all 

 serene, supercilious, and inclined to ostentation, 

 deeming themselves of more importance than the 

 whole race of human scribblers. There was 

 Mouche, a magisterial cat, defiant and reserved ; 

 and the beautiful Chanoine, too indolent for self- 

 assertion, who spent most of her life sleeping grace 

 fully and undisturbed, like the enchanted Princess 

 in the fairy tale ; and there was that superb beast, 

 deep-eyed and silken furred, whom M. Mery stroked 

 one day with cautious joy, observing : &quot;God made 

 the cat that man might have the pleasure of caress 

 ing the tiger.&quot; The curtained and cushioned dais 

 in the salon of the Place Royale mansion, about 

 which ill-natured critics laughed maliciously, was 



