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Nomad of the Nine Lives

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<h2> CHAPTER III </h2> I rested awhile and felt a little better. No bones were broken. I could walk slowly, and as mother's provision store was not far away, I decided to take the risk of finding a cellar window open there. So, painfully limping along back streets and resting in dark corners, I arrived at my destination at midnight, and found that a window had been left open. It was a brave task to jump down but better than staying out all night, so I set my teeth and leaped softly in. I was greeted with a snarl and hiss which sounded like a bunch of fire-crackers going off, and there was mother on guard, standing with arched back in front of a box of newly-born kittens in a dark corner. I crept toward her and with a cry of delight she recognized me. I told my pitiful story while she gently led me to another corner and bade me lie down on some carpeting, near which stood a saucer of milk. She lapped my wounds and comforted me with kind words. She said she was afraid at first that I was a bad quarrelsome cat, and that it almost broke her heart. Judging from remarks that she dropped and as she had such sad eyes and sighed so often, I am sadly afraid that father himself was not exactly a Sunday-school model. I was stiff and sore the next day and stayed in my corner. Mother brought part of her dinner to me, but I could not bear to take the food from a nursing mother. The cries of the kittens wore on my nerves to such an extent that I wondered if I could ever settle down to a domestic life. As soon as I felt able to go out into the world I did so, for I knew that it made extra work for mother to have me there. I therefore took my departure, deciding that I should not go back to the school (for after all it was a dull place). It is needless to state that I thanked mother for her kindness. Notwithstanding my first experience, I was anxious to see life so set out with a brave heart, but without friends and no prospects of a place to lay my head. Fortunately as it was summer and the nights were warm, one could sleep out quite comfortably. I did not look quite up to the mark, but knew that time alone would cover the bald places, and restore my former agility. In the daytime I did not venture forth, but slept most of the time in a quiet nook in a back yard where the people had gone away for the summer. At night I came out, and a few uncovered garbage pails helped me wonderfully, although it hurt my pride to eat this sort of food. I was young and healthy, however, and enjoyed the free life in the open air. I made a few good friends, some of whom I have kept to this day. I remember that I learned to shun boys, for they were apt to throw stones. How they can be so cruel I cannot understand. If they realized how the stones cut and sting, they would never use them for missiles and us for targets. I nursed a wound on my hip bone for weeks, which was very painful and was caused by a boy hitting me with a sharp stone. What satisfaction can it be to them? Harming a defenseless animal can surely give none, but it always seems a great temptation to them to do so. Once I saw a group of small boys stoning a kitten which they had tied to a raft. I was glad when a big policeman caught them at it. Dogs and boys were the only drawback to what was otherwise a perfect life, and a lazily lounging about one; first a feast and then a famine. No matter how intense were the pangs of hunger, I followed mother's advice and never ate sparrows or any other birds. About this time I made the acquaintance of a cat who lived in a theatre and one night he invited me to go behind the scenes with him. My eyes were opened that night. Strange looking girls in stranger looking costumes came upon the stage and attempted to dance and sing. The like of this I had never seen before (nor, I hope, will I ever again). When their gowns were not too short, they were much too loud for my taste, but, nevertheless, it seems that people sit for hours watching them rave, dance, and scream. These peculiar people were kind to me, though, for I ambled about with considerable interest. One young female called out, "Larry, pipe the new cat!" Now I had seen Mr. Carver smoke a pipe and sometimes he would pick me up and playfully blow rings of smoke in my face and laugh at me so I scurried away for fear I should have to take one of those nasty things in my mouth. As I was leaving the theatre one man called out to me to "beat it," and, as I could not understand their language, which was not in the text books at school, I made good my escape with the kindly help of an old shoe, which accompanied me part way. "That is no place for a self-respecting cat," I thought, so went out into the night. I was a homeless wanderer, but managed to find a quiet corner in a dark alley and soon went to sleep. I awoke much refreshed, but very hungry as my friend of the theatre had neglected to treat me to anything more substantial than a chance to look on. Oh, how I longed for a drink of milk or water! I was sorely tempted and fell. On a door-step a short distance away was a jar of milk. It was a moment's work to tip it over and remove the paper top with a sharp claw. I lapped my fill and left some in the bottle for the family. That theft was bad enough, but I fell still lower. One day I was very hungry, and happened long just as some masons had ceased working, in order to eat their lunches. One of the men took the cover from his dinner pail and, leaving it open on the ground, walked away for a few minutes. I darted quickly to the pail and, to my delight, saw a large slice of corned beef. It was quick work to snatch it and run away, and how good it tasted! I ate it so fast that I remember I suffered afterwards from indigestion,—or perhaps it was a bad conscience. <hr /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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