in a masterful human boy, is hardly a matter for regret; but the most subtle of dramatists should better understand the most subtle of animals, and forbear to rank her as man’s enemy because she will not be man’s dupe.  Rather let us turn back and learn our lesson from Montaigne, serenely playing with his cat as friend to friend, for thus, and thus only, shall we enjoy the sweets of her companionship.  If we want an animal to prance on its hind legs, and, with the over-faithful Tylo, cry out, “little god, little god,” at every blundering step we take; if we are so constituted that we feel the need of being worshipped by something or somebody, we must feed our vanity as best we can with the society of dogs and men.  The grocer’s cat, enthroned on the grocer’s starch-box, is no fitting friend for us.

As a matter of fact, all cats and kittens, whether royal Persians or of the lowliest estate, resent patronage, jocoseness (which they rightly hold to be in bad taste), and demonstrative affection,—­those lavish embraces which lack delicacy and reserve.  This last prejudice they carry sometimes to the verge of unkindness, eluding the caresses of their friends, and wounding the spirits of those who love them best.  The little eight-year-old English girl who composed the following lines, when smarting from unrequited affection, had learned pretty much all there is to know concerning the capricious nature of cats:—­

   “Oh, Selima shuns my kisses! 
    Oh, Selima hates her missus! 
      I never did meet
      With a cat so sweet,
    Or a cat so cruel as this is.”

In such an instance I am disposed to think that Selima’s coldness was ill-judged.  No discriminating pussy would have shunned the kisses of such an enlightened little girl.  But I confess to the pleasure with which I have watched other Selimas extricate themselves from well-meant but vulgar familiarities.  I once saw a small black-and-white kitten playing with a judge, who, not unnaturally, conceived that he was playing with the kitten.  For a while all went well.  The kitten pranced and paddled, fixing her gleaming eyes upon the great man’s smirking countenance, and pursued his knotted handkerchief so swiftly that she tumbled head over heels, giddy with her own rapid evolutions.  Then the judge, being but human, and ignorant of the wide gap which lies between a cat’s standard of good taste and the lenient standard of the court-room, ventured upon one of those doubtful pleasantries which a few pussies permit to privileged friends, but which none of the race ever endure from strangers.  He lifted the kitten by the tail until only her forepaws touched the rug, which she clutched desperately, uttering a loud protesting mew.  She looked so droll in her helplessness and wrath that several members of the household (her own household, which should have known better) laughed outright,—­a shameful thing to do.