THE CAT TO-DAY 271 



don firm at the death of its "best foundry cat," — 

 which phrase seemed puzzling until explanation was 

 made. The sand used for casts is mixed with flour, 

 and this flour attracts mice and rats that too often 

 spoil the moulds. Cats are kept to eat the mice, 

 and they in turn must be taught not to walk about 

 on the moulds, nor scratch, nor injure them in any 

 way. In these respects the "best foundry cat" 

 had been made perfect by practice, and his loss was 

 an event to be deplored. Every department of this 

 house has its feline police corps, even the galvan- 

 izing shop, where a brindled veteran knows by long 

 experience that hot metal spurts when plates are 

 dipped in it, and has learned to get under cover at 

 this critical juncture. 



The recognition of the cat's utility, and her em- 

 ployment in public service, are not merely features 

 of modern economics. Among the requisitions laid 

 by Frederick the Great — the most hard-headed 

 and hard-hearted of kings and soldiers — upon 

 more than one little Saxon and Silesian town, was 

 a levy of cats for the guarding of army stores. 

 Sometimes it even happened that the town could 

 not provide the number of pussies demanded (per- 

 haps the poor war-ravaged inhabitants loved their 

 pets, having little else left them in the world), and 

 permission was humbly asked that weasels should 

 be sent instead. 



