4 The Book of Cats. 



read it," and added, " Besides, what do you know 

 of the subject ?" and before I had time to begin to 

 tell him, said he expected it was very little. "Why 

 not Dogs ?" asked one friend of mine, hitting upon 

 the notion as though by inspiration. " Or Horses," 

 said some one else ; '' or Pigs ; or, look here, this is 

 the finest notion of all : — 



'THE BOOK OF DONKIES, 



' BY ONE OF THE FAMILY !' " 



Somewhat disheartened by the reception my 

 little project had met with, I gave up the idea for 

 awhile, and went to work upon other things. I 

 cannot exactly remember what I did, or how much, 

 but my book about Cats was postponed sine die, 

 and in the meantime I made some inquiries. 



I searched high and low; I consulted Lady Gust's 

 little volume ; I bought Mr. Beeton's book ; I read 

 up Buffon and Bell, and Frank Buckland ; I eagerly 

 perused the amusing pages of the Rev. Mr. Wood ; 

 I looked through two or three hundred works of 

 one sort and another, and as many old newspapers 

 and odd numbers of defunct periodicals, and 

 although I daresay I have overlooked some of 

 the very best, I have really taken a great deal of 



