THE CAT 



— Rrrrrrrrr ! 



There was no response. The cat's back rose 

 into a miniature mountain, her fur bristled, all the 

 grace and beauty which are born of a tranquil soul 

 deserted her. She curveted sideways as though 

 meditating an attack, and then sank slowly on the 

 floor in the superb attitude of an Egyptian sphinx. 

 Only her gleaming eyes and twitching tail betrayed 

 the tumult of her soul. Like a diplomatist who, 

 in his library, studies a map of Europe and plans 

 the destruction of an empire, so the cat concealed 

 her murderous designs until the time was ripe for 

 action. She even seemed disposed to abandon the 

 game of war, and leave her defenceless enemy at 

 peace ; but this was pure hypocrisy. Another mo- 

 ment, and she had leaped upon Punchinello, bury- 

 ing her claws in his breast, and rending into shreds 

 his rich embroidered coat. Well she knew that his 

 master was at school, and, heedless of all the care 

 that had been lavished upon her education, she 

 forgot that she was a domestic cat, and became a 

 beast of prey. 



Poor Punchinello! Of what avail now was his 

 drum, or the stick with which he had dealt so many 

 merry blows ? The cat dragged him over the floor, 

 flung him hither and thither, clawed off his wig 

 (unspeakable indignity!), lacerated him with her 

 57 



