It is unnecessary to explain, I suppose, that each individual grimalkin in the outfit, with that readiness of resource which distinguishes the species, had grappled with tooth and nail as many others as it could hook on to.  This preserved the formation.  It made the column so stiff that when the ship rolled (and the Mary Jane was a devil to roll) it swayed from side to side like a mast, and the Mate said if it grew much taller he would have to order it cut away or it would capsize us.

Some of the sailors went to work at the pumps, but these discharged nothing but fur.  Captain Doble raised his eyes from his toes and shouted:  “Let go the anchor!” but being assured that nobody was touching it, apologized and resumed his revery.  The chaplain said if there were no objections he would like to offer up a prayer, and a gambler from Chicago, producing a pack of cards, proposed to throw round for the first jack.  The parson’s plan was adopted, and as he uttered the final “amen,” the cats struck up a hymn.

All the living ones were now above deck, and every mother’s son of them sang.  Each had a pretty fair voice, but no ear.  Nearly all their notes in the upper register were more or less cracked and disobedient.  The remarkable thing about the voices was their range.  In that crowd were cats of seventeen octaves, and the average could not have been less than twelve.

Number of cats, as per invoice..... 127,000
Estimated number dead swellers.....   6,000
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Total songsters................ 121,000
Average number octaves per cat.....      12
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Total octaves................ 1,452,000

It was a great concert.  It lasted three days and nights, or, counting each night as seven days, twenty-four days altogether, and we could not go below for provisions.  At the end of that time the cook came for’d shaking up some beans in a hat, and holding a large knife.

“Shipmates,” said he, “we have done all that mortals can do.  Let us now draw lots.”

We were blindfolded in turn, and drew, but just as the cook was forcing the fatal black bean upon the fattest man, the concert closed with a suddenness that waked the man on the lookout.  A moment later every grimalkin relaxed his hold on his neighbors, the column lost its cohesion and, with 121,000 dull, sickening thuds that beat as one, the whole business fell to the deck.  Then with a wild farewell wail that feline host sprang spitting into the sea and struck out southward for the African shore!

The southern extension of Italy, as every schoolboy knows, resembles in shape an enormous boot.  We had drifted within sight of it.  The cats in the fabric had spied it, and their alert imaginations were instantly affected with a lively sense of the size, weight and probable momentum of its flung bootjack.

“ON WITH THE DANCE!” A REVIEW

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