THE CAT, 73 



the couch of her dying master. When life was extinct, 

 she could scarcely be removed from the room where the 

 corpse remained ; and after the funeral, though often 

 driven and carried from the church-yard, she was sure to 

 return to the grave, on which, regardless of cold and 

 hunger, she would lie for hours. Such instances are 

 doubtless rare, but when a cat is treated kindly and 

 gently, she will commonly find many ways of expressing 

 her gratitude. 



A remarkable circumstance may here be stated, which 

 the writer received on authority above all suspicion. In 

 a retired village in Devonshire, there was living very 

 lately a family in humble circumstances, the heads of 

 which were numbered among the pious poor. The 

 eldest daughter was taken ill, and long continued a suf- 

 ferer from disease. Her appetite was, in consequence, 

 very delicate, and at this her parents were much con- 

 cerned, as they had no means of ministering to her 

 wants. Living at the distance of seven or eight miles 

 from any town, they were beyond the range of the 

 benevolent visits often made in such neighbourhoods, 

 nor were there at hand any persons to whom in their 

 extremity they could apply for relief. 



At this crisis, however, the gracious providence of 

 God provided for them by very singular means. A 



