48 BOMBAY DUCKS 
lightly on her feet and strolled off in a most dignified 
manner. 
The cat is an ungrateful creature ; she attaches her- 
self to localities, not to persons. Cat-lovers will prob- 
ably take exception to this assertion ; but let them for 
a moment compare their cats with their dogs. How 
many cats have they possessed that would follow them 
about wherever they went and refuse to leave them 
unless tied up, or held back by force? How many cats 
have they owned that would receive them with great 
demonstrations of joy after a short absence? How 
many cats have they known that would invariably 
come to their owner when called? These are all attri- 
butes of even a poor pariah dog. 
The cat is selfishness personified. It is a discon- 
tented creature, and manifests its discontent by emit- 
ting that most abominable of sounds—a miau. It is 
sly, cunning, and not over-valorous. It dislikes a bath, 
and is, as a rule, incapable of real affection. It is a 
savage, which has lost few of its ancestral traits. It is 
the most contemptible member of the most cruel 
family of mammals. 
“No creature,” writes Lockwood Kipling, “is more 
independent than the cat. Its more complete domesti- 
cation in the West is in reality mainly due to its love 
of warmth. For the sake of comfort it will tolerate 
humanity, and blink amiably at the fireside, but a 
serene selfishness is at the basis of its character. The 
Indian domestic cat is not bound to the family circle 
by the need of warmth ; there is no fireside to speak of, 
and it lives its own life.” 
