THE DARK AGES 27 



regulating the market price of cats ; a penny for a 

 kitten before its eyes were open, twopence until it 

 had caught its first mouse, fourpence when it was 

 old enough for combat. He who stole a cat from 

 the royal granaries forfeited either a milch ewe with 

 its fleece and lamb, or as much wheat as would 

 cover the body of the cat suspended by its tail, with 

 its nose touching the ground. A pleasant, pictur- 

 esque old law, discerning the artistic possibilities 

 of punishment, and insuring to Pussy her place in 

 economics. A penny was a vastly respectable coin 

 in the tenth century. 



There are few golden pages, however, in the 

 broken annals of the cat during the long dark years 

 of mediaeval history. Feudalism with its splen- 

 dours and discomforts, its swift alternations of mag- 

 nificent loyalty and fierce rebellion, its restless am- 

 bitions and perpetual warfare, offered little but 

 misery to a cat. Change of any kind has ever been 

 abhorrent to her spirit, and those were days when 

 nothing was permanent save death. Order and 

 tranquillity are essential to her well-being ; and the 

 world, seething with strife, exulted in its own mea- 

 sureless confusion. The dog, faithful follower of 

 man's scattered fortunes, and trusted guardian of 

 all that was held dear, reached his apotheosis in 

 these troubled times. Baron and knight, burgher 

 and serf united in recognition of his merits. In 



