244 THE FIRESIDE SPHINX 



Less difficult to believe, yet far removed from 

 credence, are tales of Pussy s superhuman intelli 

 gence and craft. Some years ago the &quot; Specta 

 tor &quot; published, with enviable gravity, an account of 

 a cat that hunted up and found articles lost about 

 the house. He did not appear to have concealed 

 these things, and then produced them for reward ; 

 but to have made painful search for scissors and 

 spectacles, mislaid through the carelessness of the 

 family. Enthusiasts are always telling us how their 

 pets open closed doors, as though in training for 

 burglary ; and lay traps, like veteran hunters, for 

 birds and squirrels. A Scotch gentleman assures 

 me that his cat was in the habit of hiding in the 

 shrubbery, and leaping out upon the poor little 

 sparrows that came every morning to breakfast on 

 the crumbs thrown them from the dining-room 

 window. One winter day these crumbs were 

 quickly covered over by falling snow ; whereupon 

 the astute highwayman was seen to lay them bare 

 again, brushing away the soft snow with his paws, 

 lest, from lack of decoy, he should lose his prey. 

 Indignant at such murderous purpose, the family 

 determined to circumvent the cat by scattering no 

 more bread. Pussy waited and wondered for two 

 mornings ; and then, realizing the nature of the 

 conspiracy, baffled it by the simple process of taking 

 a roll from the breakfast table, and carrying it him- 



