40 The Book of Cats. 



cated ? No ! their errors are thrust upon them ; 

 they become selfish per force, cowards from their 

 tenacious regard for that personal neatness which 

 they so labour to preserve. Oh ! that all females 

 made such good use of their tongues ! Cross from 

 sheer melancholy, reflecting, in their starved and 

 persecuted maturity, on the fondness lavished over 

 the days in which they were pet useless toys ; as 

 soon as they can deserve and may require kind 

 treatment, they are as ill-used as if they were con- 

 stant wives — rather unfair on ladies of their exces- 

 sive genius. Could every Cat, like Whittington's, 

 catch fortunes for her master as well as mice, we 

 should hear no more said against the species. Sup- 

 pose they only fawn on us because we house and 

 feed them, they have no nobler proofs of friendship 

 with which to thank us ; and if their very gratitude 

 for this self-interested hire be adduced as a crime, 

 alas ! poor Pussies ! Had Minette been a Thomas, 

 a whiskered fur-collared Philander, he would most 

 probably have surmounted that unmanly weakness, 

 and received all favours as but his due. I never 

 see a Mrs. Mouser rubbing her soft coat against me, 

 with round upturned eyes, but I translate her purr 

 into words like these : — * I can't swim ; I can nei- 

 ther fetch and carry, nor guard the house ; I can 



