A mother cat will go through fire and water to save her kittens, and she will fight most bravely to protect them. One poor cat, finding that she could not save her baby from the flames of a burning building, went back to die beside it, rather than escape alone.
[Illustration: Friends.]
A brave girl. [Footnote: Published by Ticknor & Fields, 1867.]
A little girl was once coming home from school across Boston Common, when she saw a party of noisy boys and dogs tormenting a poor kitten by the side of the frog pond. The little wretches would throw it into the water, and then laugh at its vain and frightened efforts to paddle out, while the dogs added to its fright by their ferocious barking. Belle was a bright-eyed, spirited little girl, and her whole soul was roused in indignation; she dashed in among the throng of boys and dogs, and rescued the poor half-drowned little animal. The boys, ashamed, slunk away, and little Belle held the poor, cold, shivering little creature, considering what to do for it. It was half dead already, and she knew that at home there was no room for another pet, for both cat and kitten never were wanting in their family. “Poor kitty!” she said, “you must die, but I will see that you are not tormented;” and she knelt bravely down and held the little thing under water, with the tears running down her own cheeks, till all its earthly sorrows were over, and the little cat was beyond the reach of dog or boy.
This was real, brave humanity. Many people call
themselves tender-hearted, because they are unwilling
to have a litter of kittens killed, and so they go
and throw them over fences, and comfort themselves
with the reflection that they will do well enough.
What becomes of the poor little defenseless things?
In nine cases out of ten they live a hunted, miserable
life, crying from hunger, shivering with cold, harassed
by cruel dogs, and tortured to make sport for brutal
boys. How much kinder and more really humane
to take upon ourselves the momentary suffering of
causing the death of an animal than to turn our backs
and leave it to drag out a life of torture and misery!
Harriet
Beecher Stowe.
Aunt Esther’s rule. [Footnote: Published by Ticknor & Fields, 1867]
One of Aunt Esther’s rules for the care of animals
was “Never frighten an animal for sport.”
I remember that I had a little white kitten, of which
I was very fond, and one day I was amusing myself with
making her walk up and down the key-board of the piano,
and laughing to see her fright at the strange noises
which came up under her feet. It never occurred
to me that there was any cruelty in it, till Aunt Esther
said to me: “My dear, you must never frighten
an animal. I have suffered enough from fear to
know that there is no suffering more dreadful; and
a helpless animal, that cannot speak to tell its fright,
and cannot understand an explanation of what alarms
it, ought to move your pity.”
Harriet
Beecher Stowe.