SOME CATS OF FRANCE 217 



virtues, we love their faults. But the two little 

 creatures who shared between them the fickle heart 

 of M. Loti have been painted for us in such gen- 

 erous colours, and with such consummate art, that 

 they live in his pages as the Black Prince and Du 

 Guesclin live in the heroic pages of Froissart. 



Never were friends more widely separated by 

 birth, breeding, or the accidents of early life. Mou- 

 moutte Blanche was a Persian pussy, beautiful as 

 Scheherazade, gentle as Zobeide, discreet as Fatima, 

 — the Prophet's fair daughter, not Bluebeard's pry- 

 ing wife. She was adopted by M. Loti in early 

 kittenhood, when the innocence of infancy still lin- 

 gered in her lovely eyes, and the playfulness of 

 infancy prompted her to much " ground and lofty 

 tumbling," wherein he took delight. She was not 

 wholly white, as her name would imply ; and her 

 patches of black fur suggested to his fancy — which 

 is a Gallic fancy always — a little bonnet shading 

 her smooth brow, and a little pelerine thrown over 

 her snowy shoulders. Her gentleness was reserved 

 for her master and for his household. Like the 

 beautiful and intrepid Menine of Mme. de Lesdi- 

 guieres, she was 



" Chatte pour tout le monde, et pour les Chats, Tigresse." 

 " Refined, correct, an aristocrat to the tips of her 

 little claws," says Loti, " she so detested other cats, 

 as to forget her manners sadly whenever a visitor 



