most contemptuous of creatures, and that Agrippina is the most contemptuous of cats. The spirit of Bouhaki, the proud Theban beast that sat erect, with gold earrings in his ears, at the feet of his master. King Hana; the spirit of Mu- ezza, whose slumbcrs Mahomet himself was not bold enough to disturb ; the spirit of Micetto, Chateaubriand's ecclesiasti— cal pet, dignified as a cardinal, and con- scious ever that he was the gift of a sovereign pontiff,—the spirits of all ar- rogant cats that have played scornful parts in the world's great comedy look out from Agrippina's yellow eyes and hold me in subjection. I should like to explain to her, if I dared, that my desk is small, littered with many papers, and sadly overcrowded with the useful in- utilities which affectionate friends de- light in giving me at Christmas time. Sainte-Beuve’s cat, I am aware, sat on his desk, and roamed at will among those precious manuscripts which no in- trusive hand was ever permitted to touch; but Sainte-Beuve probably had sufficient space reserved for his own comfort and convenience. I have not: and Agrippina's beautifully ringed tail flapping across my copy distracts my at- tention and imperils the neatuess of my penmansbip. Even when she is disposed to be affable, turns the light of her coun- tenance upon mel watches with attentive curiosity every stroke I make, and soft- ly, with curved paw. pats my pen as it travels over the paper, — even in these halcyon moments, though my self-love is flattered by her condescension. I am aware that I should work better and more rapidly if I denied myself this charming companionship.
But in truth it is impossible for a lover of cats to banish these alert, gen- tle, and discriminating little friends, who give us just enough of their regard and complaisance to make us hunger for more. M. Fée, the naturalist. who has written so admirably about animals, and who understands, as only a Frenchman
Agripp ina.
can understand, the delicate and subtle organization of a cat, frankly admits that the keynote of its character is in- dependence. It dwells under our roof, sleeps by our fire, endures our blandish— ments, and apparently enjoys our soci- ety, without for one moment forfeiting its sense of absolute freedom, without ac- knowledging any servile relation to the human creature who shelters it. “ The cat," says M. Fee, " will never part with its liberty; it will neither be our servant. like the horse. nor our friend, like the dog. It consents to live as our guest; it accepts the home we offer and the food we give ; it even goes so far as to solicit our caresses, but capriciously, and when it suits its humor to receive them.”
Rude and masterful souls resent this fine self-sufficiency in a domestic ani- mal. and require that it should have no will but theirs, no pleasure that does not emanate from them. They are forever prating of the love and fidelity of‘the dog, of the beast that obeys their slight- est word. crouches contentedly for hours at their feet, is exuberantly grateful for the smallest attention, and so affection- ate that its demonstrations require to be curbed rather than encouraged. All this homage is pleasing to their vanity ; yet there are people. less magisterial perhaps, or less exacting, who believe that true friendship, even with an animal, may be built up on mutual esteem and inde- pendence ; that to demand gratitude is to be unworthy of it; and that obedience is not essential to agreeable and healthy intercourse. A man who owns a dog is. in every sense of the word, its master; the term expresses accurately their mu- tual relations. But it is ridiculous when applied to the limited possession of a cat. I am certainly not Agrippina's mis- tress, and the assumption of authority on my part would be a mere empty dig- nity, like those swelling titles which af- ford such innocent delight to the F ree- masons of our severe republic. If I
