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Pussy Black-Face: The Story of a Kitten and Her Friends

<h2 class='c006'>CHAPTER VI MY FIRST FIGHT</h2></div> Aren't things queer in this world? It seems as if cats can't plan ahead very much. All night I dreamed of the poor Common cat. This morning when I woke up I began to worry about introducing her to little Mary. My head ached with the effort. I have never had any business to do in my life. My parents have always done everything for me. Actually, I have been started in the world with about only one instruction from my mother, and that is not to lie. Perhaps it is as good an equipment for the battle of life as a little cat could have. I don't know. I suppose I shall find out. Well, I must bring my Common cat story up to date in my mind. I have been utterly astonished and confounded by her actions. Let me think over what happened this morning. 76I woke up early. I find that a care in a cat's mind will send her to sleep late, and wake her up betimes. I had to think about getting my friend's breakfast before any one was astir, for I supposed she would be too terrified to come from under the bed. I ran down to the basement. The cook was getting breakfast and there was plenty of food lying about. I found two nice little broiled kidneys. I just had to taste a little bit myself, it was so good. Then I ran like a fox up-stairs. No one met me. The servants were all in the rooms, sweeping and dusting and getting things ready for the family. Soon the Denvilles would be coming down, for they are not lazy people. I bounded in Mary's room. I went under the bed, the cat was not there. I dropped the kidneys in a terrible fright. I crept softly round the room. I ran out in the hall, I went up-stairs and down, and at intervals I kept coming back to the bedroom. Where was my poor friend? At last, I pulled myself up short. I was 77getting dazed, and I was depending too much on my eyes, as a kitten is apt to do. I went back to the bed and smelt. She had been here recently. I lifted my head. The air was still full of Common cat suggestions. I followed my nose, and now just let me think of my utter surprise and consternation—There was the Common cat curled up on my chair, in the midst of my opera cloak. I was very angry. I say it with shame. She was in my place—usurping the attention of my young mistress, for there lay little Mary, wide awake, her head resting on her arm, her face turned toward the cat on the chair, a smile of utter beatitude playing about her lips. She was afraid of frightening the newcomer, but she need never be afraid of that. I have made a discovery. The Common cat is not shy—she is bold. That is, she is shy with enemies, but bold with friends. Or perhaps I should say, sneaky. She would not have jumped up on that chair, if I had been in the room. She took advantage of my absence. 78Perhaps I did wrong to be angry, but it was an awful blow to find her on my soft bed. I sprang right up beside little Mary. I tucked my head under her arm, and she stroked and caressed me. “Oh, you dear thing—you are so sweet and generous. You don't mind that strange cat being in your chair one bit.” “Meow! meow!” I cried angrily, “I do.” Mary was so taken up with the other cat that she never minded me, but went on absently patting my head, and looking at that creature that was pretending to be asleep. “How did she get here, Black-Face—did you bring her in?—Oh! isn't it lovely. Why, I never heard of such a thing as that poor, shy cat coming right into a house. I would just like to hug her.” “You needn't be afraid,” I growled, “she wouldn't mind. But still I hope you won't. I'm your cat,” and I tried to get between her and the stranger. Mary laughed, and rubbed her face against my fur. “You darling thing. Now I know you did lead her in, for you are trying to 79push me toward her, and you weren't a bit surprised to see her here.” I sprang off the bed. What was the use of being bad, when your little mistress was so good that she turned your worst actions into kind ones. With a very sad heart, I crept out in the hall—and, do you know, I had scarcely got out of sight, before I heard a deceitful “meow,” from that creature by the bed. She was trying to ingratiate herself with little Mary, and for a few minutes, I had the pleasure of hearing nothing but sweet pussy talk from them both. “Poor pussy, pussy, pussy,” Mary would say, then the Common cat would reply, “Meow! meow!” and then I knew Mary was scratching her head for her. In fact, I was mean enough to peep in through the crack of the door. It made me sick, and after a time I could not stand it, so I crept down-stairs. One of the housemaids shook her broom at me, so I went down, down, till I got to the yard. There was Mona sitting by her kennel, and 80looking as big and handsome as ever. “By the way,” I said to myself, “I ought to thank her for her kindness to me last night,” so I walked slowly up to her, and said, “Good morning, Mona.” “Good morning,” she said kindly. “I am ever so much obliged to you for what you did last night,” I went on. “It was perfectly sweet of you.” “You got your cat in,” she remarked. “Yes, I suppose you smelt our double tracks.” “How is she getting on?” Mona asked. I looked over my shoulder. I didn't want any one to hear me, for Dolly, the other dog, was still in her kennel. So I jumped up on the top of Mona's kennel. That brought me into a little patch of sunlight, and also made me get a little nearer to her big head, for when I sat on the ground, she towered way above me. “Mona,” I said confidentially, “I am having a dreadful time.” “Are you?” she replied good-naturedly. “You do look rather worried.” <div id='p80' class='figcenter id006'> <ANTIMG src='images/p080.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> <div class='ic004'> “'MONA,' I SAID CONFIDENTIALLY, 'I AM HAVING A DREADFUL TIME.'” </div> </div> 81“I just can't stand that cat,” I went on. “Can't stand her. That's pretty sudden. You loved her last night.” “Mona,” I said, “think of her actions. She came into this house on my invitation, and now she has taken my chair, and is trying to wean dear Mary's affections away from me.” Mona grunted. “Now, how do you know that? You cats are always jumping at conclusions.” “I see her and hear her. I feel it, Mona. I can't explain to you but I just know it's true—and I hate her.” Mona didn't say anything, and I went on. “I planned to have her come here and stay a little while, then have a good home found for her. Now, something tells me that she will never leave here.” “Well, suppose she doesn't.” “Mona,” I almost screamed, “suppose she doesn't! Do you imagine I could stand having that low-down cat take my place, sleep on my chair, eat from dear Mary's 82hand? No—I will run away before I will endure that.” “Hush! hush!” said the big dog commandingly. “You are waking up Dolly.” “Then don't be cruel,” I said sulkily. “I believe you are on that cat's side.” “You are an excited kitten,” said Mona kindly. “Jealousy always wakes cats up.” “I am dreadfully unhappy,” I replied, with tears in my eyes. “I have half a mind to run away to Mrs. Darley.” “You would find more cats there than here.” “But they are my own family cats. I love them.” “Yes, you love them,” said Mona shrewdly, “but you have left home. If you go back, you will be twice the kitten you were before you saw something of the world.” “Do you mean to say that I would be jealous of my own dear parents and my brother and sister?” “No, not jealous exactly, but you have an independent turn of mind, and you would not 83be willing to be as subject to them as you were before. You had better not go home, Black-Face.” “What shall I do then?” I asked pitifully. “I see my life is to be made miserable here.” “Your life will be what you make it yourself. You carry misery or joy inside you. No one can put it in you, if you are not willing.” “I don't understand you,” I said stupidly. Mona reflected for a few minutes, then she said, “When I first came here, I was the only dog. Then after a while, Dolly appeared. I was dreadfully jealous. I felt just as you are feeling. When Mr. and Mrs. Denville petted Dolly I was nearly crazy. I became sulky, and the consequence was that I was neglected. No one wants a cross dog about. Dolly was shown off to strangers, and taken for walks, and I was left at home. One day, when I was home here moping in my kennel, I began to reason the thing out. Dolly had as good a right to be here as I had. Mr. and Mrs. Denville had hearts large 84enough to hold two dogs, even though one was a pretty big creature. Why didn't I try to get on with Dolly, and, in that way, please my master and mistress. The thing was worth trying, so when Mr. Denville put Dolly in the yard an hour or two later, I ran up to meet her. The poor little thing was frightened, and crouched down, but I wagged my tail and licked her kindly. Mrs. Denville had come with her husband in the yard, and as she lifted her dog whip to strike me, he said, 'Don't, Maud—the St. Bernard is getting over her jealousy.'” “And did you?” I asked. “Could you?” “Of course I did,” returned Mona coolly. “Make up your mind to do a thing, and you can do it. You know Mr. and Mrs. Denville go for a walk together nearly every afternoon after he leaves his bank. They go away out Commonwealth Avenue and into the Fens. I used to enjoy these walks so much, but after I quarrelled with Dolly, they would not take me, and I suffered from lack of exercise. However, after I made up with Dolly, the little creature would not go without me, 85and I assure you that we have lovely times together. I have never regretted my resolution not to indulge in jealousy.” “But Dolly has a sweet disposition,” I said gloomily, “and this cat is a low-down thing.” “That's true,” said Mona cheerily, “but you can try to improve her. Be kind to her, and she will be kind to you.” “Are you sure of that?” I asked. Mona looked thoughtful. “I must say,” she went on, “that there are some ungrateful natures in the world. I once knew a dog that no kindness would melt. Perhaps he was a little crazy. Perhaps he had had bad parents.” “This cat isn't crazy,” I said with assurance, “she is a sneak.” “I don't like her getting in your bed when you were not in the room,” continued Mona. “If I were you, I would not let her impose on me. I would make her find a bed elsewhere, but my advice to you is not to quarrel with her. Be very patient, and remember that it is better to be imposed upon than to 86impose on others; and my advice to you is not to run away and leave the field to her. Keep with your mistress. Demand your share of the petting. Don't let the new cat get ahead of you. You have the advantage, anyway. You are better bred, better looking and cleaner.” “Those are not advantages,” I said sorrowfully; “those are disadvantages. The worse-looking a creature is, the better my dear Mary likes it.” “Then clean up the cat, lick her, get her to hold herself up, and not sneak along the way she does.” “Mona,” I said, “you are a good dog. I am much obliged to you for your advice, and I will run right up-stairs and see what I can do,” and I left her. I did run up-stairs, but alas! I met Mary coming down to breakfast with the cat. She had a blue ribbon on her neck—the cat had—and her manner was enough to make one ill. The humility of it, and yet the sly pride—the look she gave me out of the corner of her eye. “Stand aside,” it said, “I have 87got enough out of you. I have a friend at court now. I've ousted you.” I did stand aside, then I humbly followed them into the breakfast-room. Oh! how careful human beings ought to be about new pets. I thought my heart would break as I sat under that table and watched little Mary's hand stealing down with scraps for that Common cat. Once, I used to get all the scraps. After a while, Mr. and Mrs. Denville came to the table, and then I had to listen to the whole story of the saintly Common cat, how little Mary had just seen her skulking about the Common, and had pointed her out to me. That the poor creature had run when any one went near her, and that early this morning when Mary woke up, there she was in the chair by her bed. “It seems like a lovely miracle,” concluded little Mary in a happy voice. “How do you account for it, Harold, dear?” asked Mrs. Denville of her husband. “This cat brought her in,” he said shortly, 88and he looked under the table at me. “Come here, Black-Face.” I was terribly proud. Mr. Denville rarely noticed me. I jumped up on a chair beside him, and he looked in my face. “You brought her in, didn't you?” he said with a twinkle in his eye. “Oh, meow! meow!” I replied and I laid a paw on his coat sleeve. “I've heard of such things before,” he went on, still looking me in the eyes. “My mother had a very intelligent tabby cat that brought a sick friend to our barn and carried food out to it till it got well.” “How extraordinary,” murmured Mrs. Denville. “And you're a little bit jealous, aren't you?” said Mr. Denville suddenly to me. I felt ashamed of myself. How had he known what was going on under the table? “Come here,” he said, and he took me on his knee, and fed me from his plate during the remainder of the meal. “Mary,” he said when he left the table, “don't neglect the old cat for the new one.” 89“Just as if I could neglect my Black-Face,” said the little girl earnestly. “Come here, dear,” and she opened her arms, and petted me till I was so proud and happy that I forgot all about the other cat. She was watching me though, watching me from one sly eye, as she washed her face, and pretended to be admiring the flowers in the window. I understood her tricks. After breakfast, Mary took me up-stairs in her arms, and the Common cat had to follow after. However, as if to get even with me for this attention, she sprang up on my chair as soon as we arrived in Mary's bedroom. There the little girl left us and went to clean her big canary cage, and I was about to follow her, when I thought I had better embrace the opportunity of having an explanation with my rival. “Cat,” I said, “I don't like your actions.” She gazed at me steadily, and I had a good chance to look into her eyes. They reminded me of the pond on the Common. They were muddy, and looked as if there were all kinds 90of queer things down at the bottom of them. I said nothing, and she said nothing for a long time, then she murmured in her cracked voice, “What's frettin' you?” I didn't know what to say. Finally, I thought of one of Serena's phrases, and replied grandly, “I don't like your mental attitude.” “What's that?” she said impudently. “I don't suppose you know that you have a mind,” I said patronizingly. “I know I've got teeth and claws,” she said with a grin. “You jest bet I do.” I am ashamed to say I forgot all about Mona's advice to love her, and lick her fur. Something rose inside me, some kind of a swelling, then I felt as if I had swallowed something very hot. It burnt so that I sprang up and just hissed, “Get off my bed, will you?” “Come, put me off,” she said maliciously, “I'm bigger 'n you.” I don't approve of fighting. I think it is wicked and vulgar, but at her words a fierce 91joy rose within me. I thought what a delight, what an ecstasy it would be to stick my claws in her, and drag her from that chair. Then I don't seem to remember anything more for a few minutes, but hissing and spitting and jumping and scratching and the most awful cat language that I ever heard. It was my first fight, and I didn't do any talking. I wanted all my breath for panting, for I was thumped and dragged and pounded and beaten and shaken till I was nearly dead. Dear little Mary was in the bath-room, singing, and talking, and fussing with her canaries. She didn't hear us, and no one else was near enough, but presently there was a step. I didn't hear it. I was too far gone, but the sly cat must have heard it, for she dropped me like a shot, and flew up into my chair. I lay for one minute, then I dragged myself under the bed. I thought I was dying, but I didn't want any one to see me. My instinct was to keep out of sight. The oldish woman who was Mary's nurse, came into the room. I heard her give an exclamation, 92then stop short. “Miss Mary,” she called. The dear child came running in. “Just look at that cat,” said the old woman. “Oh! oh!” cried my dear young mistress. “Why, her eyes are scratched, and her nose is torn—oh! my poor pussy,” and she went down on her knees and began to dab at that Common cat's face with her handkerchief. “Nurse, please get me a wet towel—oh! the poor cat. Who could have scratched her so?” “Depend upon it, it's that kitten,” said the old woman, “she's a high-strung little article.” “My dear Black-Face!” exclaimed Mary. “Oh! no, she is gentle.” “Who could have done it?” the nurse said grimly, “I didn't.” “Perhaps some bad cat ran in,” said Mary. The nurse shook her head, and then I stopped watching them. I was more dead than alive, and I never stirred, though I 93heard Mary calling me everywhere. She did not think of looking under her own bed, though I think she looked under all the other beds in the house. Finally, her mamma made her go off to drive, and everything was quiet in the room. The bed had been made, so no one came near to disturb us, and I lay on the carpet and tried to recover myself, and the Common cat lay on the chair, and spat at me if I stirred. After a few hours, I felt better. I could move my paws, and my body did not ache so much. I got up, tried to stretch, and could not, then not minding the hissing from the chair, I dragged myself out of the room, and down-stairs, a step at a time. There was a large mirror set into the wall at the head of the first staircase, and I had a look at myself as I went by. My fur was rumpled badly, and I looked ill, but there was not a scratch nor a drop of blood visible. How strange—for from what Mary had said, I knew a good deal of blood had run out of the Common cat's wounds. How was it, that I, a kitten, 94had been able to scratch her, while she had not given me a cut? I would ask Mona about it, and I went on dragging myself painfully down the staircases, till I reached the yard, and saw the dear old dog sitting in front of her kennel. “Well,” she said getting up as I approached her, “what have you been doing to yourself? You look played out.” “Let me by,” I said faintly. “I've had my first fight.” She allowed me to crawl into her kennel, then she lay down and put her head in the doorway. “Here,” she said kindly, “let me lick you a bit. It will massage you.” “Oh! if you will be so kind,” I said. “I feel as if I had been pounded all over.” “So you have,” she replied, as her big tongue went over me very gently, but very firmly. “I can feel that you have had a mauling. Your new friend, I suppose.” “You told me to love her,” I replied weakly, “but somehow or other, the first thing I knew, we were in the midst of a fight.” 95“That sometimes happens,” said Mona philosophically, “if one loves too hard.” “I suppose I did not go about it in the right way, but, Mona, it makes me so mad to see her in my chair. I told her to get down, and she wouldn't, and then I sprang at her, and I wounded her. She has lots of scratches, and blood came out of them. Why haven't I any blood on me?” “Because, kitten,” returned Mona calmly, “she knows how to fight, and you don't. This isn't her first battle. Some dogs fight that way. They'll injure you inside, so that you will nearly die, while other dogs merely rip your skin a little.” “I think I'd rather be ripped than pounded on a marble hearth,” I said miserably. “So would I,” said Mona. “You'll be a long time getting over this. However, you are a kitten and will recover more quickly than a cat would.” “Do you suppose she will be a long time getting over her scratches?” I asked. “I wouldn't like to injure her permanently.” 96“You couldn't, kitten,” said Mona with a laugh. “She will be all right to-morrow. When you fight next, choose some cat your own size.” “But you don't advise fights,” I remarked anxiously. “No, never fight unless you are sure you can beat the other cat.” “But how can you be sure?” “You can't be—now how do you feel?” “Much better—ever so much. There is healing in your tongue.” “Now put your head down, and go to sleep,” said Mona, “and I will watch, and see that no one disturbs you,” and she lay down in front of the kennel. It is wonderful what a nap will do. In about an hour I awoke very much refreshed. “Can you walk?” inquired Mona. “Yes, pretty well,” I said, limping out of the kennel. “Then creep up-stairs, see if the coast is clear to your room, and if the cat is still on your bed, come back and tell me.” I did as she requested, though I did not 97understand why I should do so. Painfully crawling up, and painfully crawling down-stairs, I, at last stood before her, and said that there was no one in the halls. The servants were busy with lunch. “Then lead the way,” she said. I gazed at her in surprise, but she made no explanation, and I entered the house. She followed me. We saw no one till we were opposite the big hall door. Then we heard the click of a latch key, and Mr. Denville threw open the door, and stood before us. He gave Mona a glance of surprise. She rarely came in the house. The good old dog walked up to him, and licked his hand. Then she put her noble, honest head on his arm. “Oh, you want something, do you?” he said. “Well, go on.” She did go on, and after a look at me, Mr. Denville followed us. It was such a funny procession I saw in the mirror as we went up-stairs. First I, a little cat with a black and white face, then a big dog, then a big man. I went right to Mary's bedroom. Mona 98walked in with me. Mr. Denville stood in the doorway. The Common cat lay on the opera cloak with a white bandage over her face. She was giving herself great airs on account of that bandage, but I think she was a little frightened when she heard Mona. However, you can't tell much from her mud-colored eyes when she doesn't want you to. Mona slowly paced across the room, slowly took the Common cat by the neck, slowly carried her to the door, and set her outside in the hall. Mr. Denville stood aside to let Mona pass. Then he smiled in a peculiar way. The Common cat gazed about her through the holes cut in the bandage for her eyes, as if uncertain what to do, then she walked toward a nice, sunny window that there was in the hall. Across it was a big sofa with cushions, near by was a bookcase. The cat went under the sofa, and Mona looked well pleased. The Common cat might sleep there. She was not to go in the bedroom. What a happy cat I was! I gave Mona a 99grateful glance, then I went and sprang on my chair. Mr. Denville laughed aloud, and calling to Mona, went down-stairs. Later in the day I saw her, and she said Mr. Denville took her right to the pantry. He saw a big roasted chicken there on a platter, and seizing the chicken by the legs he gave it to her. Mona said that she passed the cook in the lower hall, and her face was something indescribable, but, of course, she didn't dare to say a word, as Mr. Denville was escorting the good old dog. All day I have been so happy. The Common cat has not dared to once come in the bedroom. Little Mary understands the matter. At lunch time there was a great laughing at the table. I heard an echo of it up here, and dragged myself to the head of the stairs to listen. Mr. Denville was telling his wife and Mary about Mona and the Common cat. When Mary came up-stairs, she made a nice bed on the hall sofa for “Slyboots,” as her father calls the Common cat. There she 100has been all day, and Mary pets me in here, and then goes out in the hall and pets her. I think this is a very nice arrangement. Divided, we agree, united, we fight. Perhaps in time, Slyboots will get to like me better. I have no feeling of resentment against her. I only want her to keep out of my way. I wonder what my family would say about this? I fear they would be shocked if they knew I had been quarrelling. All but Jimmy Dory. He loves a fight. Well, I must go to sleep. I wonder how the new cat and I will get on to-morrow? <div class='chapter'> 101 <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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