OUR HUMBLE HELPERS 



know how to cover their tracks, dissimulate their 

 purpose, watch for their opportunity, lie in wait, 

 choose their time, seize the right moment for their 

 stroke, then steal away and escape punishment, 

 scamper off and keep out of sight until they are 

 called back. They make a show of attachment, 

 nothing more, as one can see in their sly movements 

 and shifty eyes. They never look the loved one in 

 the face ; whether from distrust or falsity, they take 

 a roundabout way of approach and of winning the 

 caresses which they value only for the momentary 

 pleasure they themselves receive. It cannot be said 

 that cats, although living in our homes, are thor- 

 oughly domesticated. The best tamed among them 

 are no whit more brought under control than the 

 rest; one might even say that they are entirely be- 

 yond control. They do only what they choose, and 

 nothing in the world would avail to keep them for a 

 moment in a place they desired to leave. Further- 

 more, most of them are still half wild, do not know 

 their masters, frequent only garrets and roofs, and 

 sometimes the kitchen and pantry when they are 

 hungry. They are less attached to persons than to 

 houses.' " 



"To my mind," commented Jules, "that accusa- 

 tion amounts to no more than this, that Buffon did 

 not like cats." 



"Oh, perhaps," suggested Louis, "he wrote it 

 when he was vexed at some misdeed committed by 

 his tom-cats." 



"I, for my part," Uncle Paul replied, "will say 



