THE CAT 



" A ha-penny cat may look at a king," 



says a Scotch proverb, blatantly contemptuous of 

 Pussy's place in the order of creation. 



It was not until the arts of peace had supplanted 

 the arts of war, and men had leisure to make them- 

 selves comfortable, that the cat emerged from ob- 

 scurity, and evinced a laudable disposition to share 

 this comfort. It was not until a growing taste for 

 luxury softened the old hardy, turbulent life, that 

 the cat felt herself at ease by the firesides of civil- 

 ization. She was cautious in her advances, sharing 

 the deep mistrust which she inspired, and reserved 

 even with her friends. The most domestic of ani- 

 mals, by virtue of her attachment to her home, she 

 has never made a full surrender of her freedom. 

 The most companionable of animals, by virtue of 

 her softness, her silence, her orderly instincts and 

 her innate self-respect, she grants her friendship 

 only on terms of equality. The most suave of ani- 

 mals, she remains a mystery, as impenetrable now 

 as when she shared the witch's knowledge and the 

 witch's doom. 



For all these reasons, people who write about 

 cats do so, for the most part, in terms of exaggera- 

 tion. The world is divided into men and women 

 who love cats, and men and women who cordially 

 detest them. It seems difficult to preserve an atti- 



xv 



