THE CAT 



Hinse of Hinsef eld 



I have added a romantic inmate to my family, 

 — a large bloodhound, allowed to be the finest dog 

 of the kind in Scotland, perfectly gentle, affection- 

 ate, good-natured, and the darling of all the 

 children. He is between the deer-greyhound and 

 mastiff, with a shaggy mane like a lion, and always 

 sits beside me at dinner, his head as high as the 

 back of my chair; yet it will gratify you to know 

 that a favourite cat keeps him in the greatest pos- 

 sible order, insists upon all rights of precedence, 

 and scratches with impunity the nose of an animal 

 who would make no bones of a wolf, and pulls down 

 a red deer without fear or difficulty. I heard my 

 friend set up some most piteous howls ( and I assure 

 you the noise was no joke), all occasioned by his 

 fear of passing Puss, who had stationed himself on 

 the stairs. 



Sir Walter Scott to Joanna Baillie. 



78 



