SOME CATS OF FRANCE 205 



that she had picked up in the garden and on the 

 roof. The shadow of her thoughts passed over her 

 changing eyes, and we could plainly read in them 

 the conclusion to which her scrutiny led : De 

 cidedly this is a green chicken. 



&quot; Having determined so much, Madame Theophile 

 leaped from the table whence she had made her 

 observations, and crouched flat on the ground, in 

 the attitude of Gerome s panther, watching the 

 gazelles as they come down to drink. The parrot 

 followed every motion with feverish anxiety. He 

 ruffled his feathers, rattled his chain, lifted his feet 

 nervously, and rubbed his beak against the side of 

 his trough. Instinct told him that the cat was an 

 enemy, and meant mischief. Madame Theophile s 

 eyes were now fixed upon the bird with terrible 

 intensity, and they said in language which the poor 

 parrot distinctly understood : This chicken ought 

 to be good to eat, although it is green. We 

 watched the little drama breathlessly, ready to inter 

 fere at need. The cat crept slowly, almost imper 

 ceptibly, nearer and nearer. Her pink nose quiv 

 ered, her eyes were half closed, her claws moved 

 in and out of their velvet sheaths, slight thrills of 

 pleasure shivered along her spine at the thought of 

 the repast that awaited her. Such novel and exotic 

 food tempted her appetite. 



&quot; Suddenly her back bent like a bow, and with 



