300 THE FIRESIDE SPHINX 



dowed with what Mr. Peacock called &quot; the faculty 

 of stayathomeitiveness,&quot; find their best ally in the 

 cat. How many quiet and thoughtful hours have 

 been shared by this little friend who never disturbs 

 our musings, nor resents our preoccupation ? It is 

 not in superb catteries that she develops her most 

 winning traits, but by the quiet fireside, however 

 humble, where she rules alone. Her gentler aspects, 

 the sweetness of her domesticity, are then abun 

 dantly revealed. Nor is it beauty which best en 

 ables her to win and hold hearts, but rather some 

 fine charm of personality, too intangible to be 

 analyzed. I knew a London cat of middle-class 

 parentage, who wore an unassuming coat of brin 

 dled grey, and whom a fancier would have regarded 

 with scorn. He was christened William Penn, in 

 deference to his Quaker costume, and to the City 

 of Brotherly Love, which it was never his fortune 

 to see. He possessed a few accomplishments, but 

 was far too reserved to flaunt them before stran 

 gers; and his manners were marked by simple good 

 taste rather than by any flattering warmth of de 

 monstration. His surroundings were artistic, and 

 he had been accustomed from kittenhood to hear 

 much brilliant conversation ; yet there was no taint 

 of Bohemianism in the unfailing vivacity which ap 

 peared to be his sovereign attraction. That cat was 

 so dearly loved, so deeply mourned, that the shadow 



