with a smaller number of animals, appear to know the names of the different members of the family, and of articles of domestic use. An instance is cited from Clark Rossiter of a cat that knew the name of each member of the household, and, his seat at the table. If asked about an absent one, she would look at the vacant seat, then at the speaker, and, if told to fetch him, would run upstairs to his room, take the handle of the door between her paws, mew at the key-hole, and wait to be let in.
The mistress of Topsey, of Belfast, an invalid, expressed a desire to have a partridge or a chicken for a broth. Some one spoke of having seen a flock of young birds in the morning, and immediately afterward Topsey sprang into the window with a partridge and laid it at her mistress's feet. The mistress commended the cat, and added, "If you will go and get another, you and I will have a nice dinner to-morrow." She went out, and shortly brought in another bird, which she also laid at her mistress's feet. Although very fond of birds, she declined to eat these herself. She was told not to catch any more birds, and brought no more to the house.
Dollie, of North Monroe, Maine, had one of her legs torn off by a railroad train. Her mistress, believing her case a hopeless one, begged two boys, in her presence, to take her away and kill her. "Instantly," says the teller of the story, "the look of patient trust with which she was regarding her mistress as she pitied and petted her, changed to one of terror as she got up and rushed out of the house." She was found, and fed, but would not return to the house till her wound was healed. Daisy, of Belfast, persisted in laying her kitten in her mistress's bed till the lady, looking her in the eye, told her if she did so again the kitten should be drowned, when she ceased offending. June, of Stockton, Maine, behaved in such a way as to lead the family to suppose that her kittens, which she had hidden under the floor of a back room, had died. The matter was talked about in the presence of the cat, who seemed to be sleeping on a lounge, and the relator of the story remarked that she "would give ten dollars in a moment if the kittens were out from under the floor." June rose at once and went to the door. It was opened for her, and she went up the stairs. After going up and down several times, she rattled at the door-knob; when the door was opened she looked into the lady's face and mewed. Three of her dead kittens were lying on the floor. The lady said: "Well done, June; go and get the other one." She went and brought it, then looked into the lady's face and mewed again. Spot, of Camden, Maine, answered when she was asked if she wanted anything to eat; and if her answer was negative, she would not eat, even if she was fed. Coonie, of Belfast, when directed in the morning to "go call the children,"
