Concerning Cats 



fession of the romantic faith made to a friend, who 

 was then as enthusiastic as myself about Victor Hugo, 

 Sainte Beuve, and Alfred de Musset. ... I come 

 next to Madame Th^ophile, a 'red' cat, with a white 

 breast, a pink nose, and blue eyes, whom I called by 

 that name because we were on terms of the closest 

 intimacy. She slept at the foot of my bed : she sat 

 on the arm of my chair while I wrote : she came 

 down into the garden and gravely walked about with 

 me : she was present at all my meals, and frequently 

 intercepted a choice morsel on its way from my plate 

 to my mouth. One day a friend who was going away 

 for a short time, brought me his parrot, to be taken 

 care of during his absence. The bird, finding itself in a 

 strange place, climbed up to the top of its perch by the 

 aid of its beak, and rolled its eyes (as yellow as the 

 nails in my arm-chair) in a rather frightened manner, 

 also moving the white membranes that formed its eye- 

 lids. Madame Thdophile had never seen a parrot, 

 and she regarded the creature with manifest surprise. 

 While remaining as motionless as a cat mummy 

 from Egypt in its swathing bands, she fixed her 

 eyes upon the bird with a look of profound medita- 

 tion, summoning up all the notions of natural history 

 that she had picked up in the yard, in the garden, 

 and on the roof. The shadow of her thoughts passed 

 over her changing eyes, and we could plainly read in 

 them the conclusion to which her scrutiny led, ' De- 

 cidedly this is a green chicken.' 



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