Chicago News Record, Jan 18, 1893

“Kindly assist me with this basket - careful, please!”

The speaker, a large, handsome woman, had just entered the depot. Diamonds bobbed playfully in her ears, and the dress she wore would have made a Worth weep for joy.

Passenger Agent Cummings promptly took the basket. It was of medium size, rich trimmed with satin and decorated with vari-colored ribbons. The contents were covered by a quilt beautifully decoratetd with needlework. It weighed in all nearly forty pounds. Mr. Cummings was amazed that a woman of her evident wealth should be carrying such a heavy burden. Suddenly he felt a strange jolting in the basket. The quilt was heaving up and down. Mr. Cummings thought of babies, dogs, snakes, chickens and mud-turtles all in less than a second. It was with a feeling of relief that he deposited the mysterious bundle on a seat by the side of the woman.

“Come, Dick,” she said, pleasantly.

Instantly the quilt went up with a volcanic burst, and out popped, like a whisk¬ered Jack-in-the-box, a huge gray cat. It was the largest that Mr. Cummings had ever seen. Dick stood nearly 18 inches high, and was long and broad in proportion. His weight exceeded 35 pounds. After showing him proudly the lady snapped her fingers and the huge cat jumped back into the basket.

Dick is the Gollah of his race. He wore about his neck a richly ornamented gold band bearing a medal from the recent Paris cat show. His owner, the handsome lady, never traveled without him close at her side. Dick was given a drink of water, which he received with a rare display of feline majesty, and then Mr. Cummings bore him out to the Baltimore and Ohio train which left at 3:15.

The Parsons Daily, January 27, 1893

Human beings are not the sole possessors of anomalous characteristics. I have seen animals again and again display inconsistencies every bit as flagrant as those ever exhibited by men or women At an old-fashioned farm house, where I once happened to put up, were a cat and dog which evinced the most extraordinary friendship for one another and were seldom seen apart, and yet, despite this fact, any attention shown to the one would cause a fit of jealousy in the other most difficult to appease. I have seen the cat go out of the room in high dudgeon because someone happened to caress the dog, and the latter would retire to a corner in a most unmistakable fit of the sulks if puss happened to come in for any favor withheld from him. Be it understood that this only occurred when the distinction was made in favor of one by a member of the household. Anything of the kind from a stranger seemed to excite no feeling of jealousy whatsoever.

The cat one day became the proud mother of three kittens, the birth taking place in an out-house where wood for the fires was stored. I shall never forget the scene that was enacted that day. We were sitting in the parlor towards dusk when in came the dog, a large retriever, bearing one of the little creatures gingerly in his mouth, being closely attended by the elated mother. The pair walked straight up to the mistress of the house and the dog deposited his burden at her feet. After a few preliminary touches to its toilet, performed by the mother, they marched out again together. Presently they returned with a second, and later with a third kitten, behaving exactly as before, only that when the tally was all told the cat jumped into the lady's lap and rubbed herself caressingly against her, and the dog stood looking up into her face with the evident expectation of some mark of approval After the kittens had been duly noticed and the participators in the little comedy petted to their hearts’ content, the happy family left for their own quarters in just the same way that they had entered, except that on this occasion pussy assisted in the transportation. Every day regularly the same thing occurred until the little ones became too big to approve of such summary methods of removal, and when the dog, which evidently considered that he had a proprietary interest in them, would attempt to carry them off, he sometimes got an unexpected rebuff in the shape of a severe scratch in the nose, which disconcerted him perceptibly.

Alas and alack! a sad accident befell poor pussy one day. She was kicked by one of the cart-horses and run over by the wagon which he was drawing, and so had to be buried by one of the boys belonging to the house. The dog watched the proceedings with palpable grief, and it was evident that he sorely missed his old playmate. Many a time he might have been seen nosing around pussy’s grave. I don’t undertake to say that he died of grief, as I had left the house long before the end came, but he certainly never was the same after the cat’s tragic end. Some months after he fell into a distemper and gave up the ghost. The mutual affection of these animals was of an extreme nature, and yet neither one could bear to see any preference shown to the other.—St Louis Globe-Democrat

CONNECTICUT’S CUTE CATS – The Pittsburgh Press, 31st March, 1893
From the New York Sun.
Connecticut has some very intelligent cats. At the jail in Bridgeport, Keeper Wells and his family have trained several cats to do remarkable tricks. Each of them has its own plate. When Tom's plate is put on the floor Frank will not touch its contents no matter how hungry he may be, nor will Mamie eat from the plates of either of her two comrades. Tom minds the tele¬phone and when it rings, if no one is pres¬ent to answer it, he will hunt up some of the officials and let them know it by his mewing. The cats will also deliver letters. If Mr. Wells gives a missive to one of the cats and tells him to carry it to a certain official, the errand is performed promptly and without an error. Nothing stops them when they are on this message service. If a door is closed the cat will mew until it is opened, and will then pick up the letter and go in search of the owner. They are great favorites all over the prison, and know many of the prisoners.

Postmaster Hicks, of New Britain, boasts of a cat that knows knows the owner of each lock¬box in the office. At 8:30 each evening the pussy takes her place in the passage between the letter boxes and watches for the people to collect their mail.

When she hears a box open she springs up to it, and a when the keyholder puts his hand in for has letter she will lay her velvety paw on his hand in recognition and as an invitation to shake. When he looks into the box to see the cat, her head is at the opening and a good-natured purr greets him. If he again attempts to take his mail out of the box she repeats the performance, and will keep it up until she receives a pleasant word. Postmaster Hicks has tried to keep the cat at his house, but she will not stay there, preferring the post office.

Amos L. Bougher, station agent at Buckland, on the New England road has prize cat which is a remarkable freak of nature. It has but one head, but otherwise nature has liberally endowed it. It has eight feet, two tails, two backs and two breasts, and each part of the body is perfectly formed. Mr. Bougher has received offers of a large sum for the curiosity, but will not part with it.

Down in Birmingham last week a large hen hawk was floating lazily, watching for a stray pullet. Suddenly the hawk swooped down, picked up a kitten, and soared heavenward until the cat was indistinguishable in the hawk’s talons. All the way up pussy fought as well as he could, and probably finally succeeded in scratching his captor, for the hawk released it and it fell to the ground, landing on its feet in a snow bank, from which it crawled unhurt except for a slight wound on its back.

A Huntington man drove down to Bridgeport last week, taking a cat with him in a basket as a present to a friend. Arriving at his friend's house, he uncovered the basket and kitty made a wild plunge through a window and disappeared. The Huntington man completed his visit, spending the day in the city. Toward evening he drove home, and on entering the house he found the cat licking the mud from her disordered coat behind the kitchen stove. The puss had made its way home from Bridgeport, a distance of 14 miles, and made good time, too.

One of M. H Sanford’s farm hands was passing along the road in Tariffville a while ago, when he saw a small animals coming down the mountain side with something in its mouth. At the site [sight] of the man the animal dropped its burden, which proved to be a young mink. The pretty little thing was taken to Mr. Sanford’s stable, where an old cat was nursing a litter of kittens, and the mink was substituted for a kitten. The foster mother allowed it to suckle, and at once adopted it into the family, paying it the same attentions that she gavae to the others of the family. The mink throve, and grew to be almost as large as its foster mother before its natural instincts led it to seek a home in a neighbouring brook.

William A. Cook caught a young rabbit Poquetanuck, and taking it home placed it in the cellar proposing to make a pet of it. The next day he was surprised to find that the family grimalkin, which had been deprived of her young kittens had adopted the rabbit and was bringing it up on the family plan.

Brainard Ives the stage driver between Mount Carmel and New Haven, has a cat which developed a remarkable eccentricity. The cat had given birth to a litter of kittens, and some days after, while prowling about the barn, it came across a nest containing three baby rats. Instead of killing and eating them, the mother cat tenderly lifted them in her mouth and carried them to where her own nest was and placed them with her kittens. She became a mother to them, nursing them as tenderly as she did her own offspring. In demonstration of the fact that the cat had not forgotten her natural enmity toward rats, she went out and caught one soon after and brought it into the presence of her family where she calmly ate it. The adopted children soon grew strong enough to seek their own living, and one day, when the cat was a way, they deserted the nest and have not been seen since.

Mrs. Harry Green, of Danbury, owns a Maltese cat which is well provided for in the way of claws. Two of its feet have six toes each, while the other two have seven each, or 26 claws in all. It is 12 years old and weighs 18 pounds.

Alton Evening Telegraph, June 17, 1893

No more practical use for a cat has been hit upon than that lately devised by a Portland (Me.) merchant. He owns a very docile little kitten, white as snow. One day, finding that he was out of blotting paper when he had finished a letter, the kitten was used in place of it and found to be an excellent substitute, the fur taking up the superfluous ink like a sponge, and he has continued to employ kitty in this way, giving her a curious piebald appearance.

The New York Times, July 23, 1893

It appears that the nocturnal cat has risen in Brooklyn to the proportions of a public nuisance which it has become necessary to abate. The abatement has been undertaken, as readers of THE TIMES are aware, by members of the Midnight Band of Mercy, and they propose to show mercy at midnight to themselves and their neighbors, and incidentally to the cats, by tenderly chloroforming notorious performers into silence.

This to the generality of mankind and womankind seems most well, but it is not to be expected that it should be approved by the cats and the old maids. Why old maids should be found of cats, when the cleanliness of the cat is not more notorious than his cacophony and his moral delinquency, is an enigma which no philosopher has succeeded in solving. But it remains true that there is an alliance between them, offensive and defensive - defensive on the part of the spinsters and offensive on the part of the cats. It was therefore unlikely that a crusade of sleepless and merciful persons against the cats of Brooklyn could be accomplished without some other voice than the voices of the cats being raised in their defines. Their champion has appeared in the person of a lady whom it would be ungallant to call an old maid, though she is certainly called "Miss" and confesses to a fondness for cats. This lady suggests a modus vivendi for the cats, as if they were pelagic seals, whereas most Brooklynites whose slumbers have been broken will insist, with the French Judge that they do not see the necessity, and that what is really needed for cats is a modus moriendi. Of this, in her turn, the lady in question does not see the necessity. She herself owns and maintains a herd, drove, pack, chorus, or whatever the proper term may be for a collection of cats, and she insists that they can be reduced to silence and subjection without recourse to the heroic remedy of felicide.

Her recipe for this purpose is "syrup of buckthorn," which she administers to her own chorus. "This calms them a great deal and when turned out for the night their behaviour is model compared with the neighbour's cats." This is very interesting, and it would be still more interesting to know how the syrup of buckthorn acts. Does it merely relax the vocal chords so that the patient can no longer sing, or does it disincline the cat for feline society? In either case, if the recipe is effective it is worthy of being generally known. But even if it were applied by all owners of cats to their pets, it is obviously impracticable to apply it to the waif and vagous cats, whose home is the back fence and which is ferae naturae [untamed, in a state of nature]. Unless the patrolmen are to carry syrup of buckthorn and to "exhibit" the same to all cats on their beats, the stray cats will continue to sing, and the evil will be unabated. Besides, it will be difficult for the Midnight Band of Mercy to make distinctions. When the reformer - the chloroformer - is abroad she will naturally administer an anodyne more lasting that buckthorn to every cat she can catch; while the cats stupefied with buckthorn will fall her easiest prey. Obviously it will be necessary to append to each treated cat a certificate that she has been treated, and is warranted not to explode in song; just as they do in Chicago with the sterilized water. This might perhaps be effective, granting the efficacy of the syrup of buckthorn; but it must be owned that it is simpler just to kill the cats.

South Wales Echo, 27th July 1893

At the Bristol County-court yesterday, his Honour Judge Austin was engaged for several hours in hearing an amusing case, in which Wm. Hemmers, landlord of the Lamb and Lark Beer-house, Lamb-street, sued Thomas Corcoran, a pipe manufacturer, living in the same locality, for £4 17s 6d, the value of a prize pigeon alleged to have been killed by the defendant's cat. Mr H. Holman Gregory appeared for the plaintiff, and Mr H. R. Wansbrough represented Corcoran. Gregory, in opening the case, said the parties to the action were neighbours. His client was a pigeon fancier, and kept a number of birds in a room at the back of his house. Some of these were valuable, and others were of a common breed. Last year he bought four pigeons, three being set down as worth £1 each, and the fourth, the bird in question, as worth £5. This bird was exhibited at different shows and gained prizes. He had from time to time lost a number of the common sort of pigeons and some chickens through the depredations of a cat belonging, as he alleged, to the defendant, to whom he made a complaint. On the 14th of last month the pigeon- the subject of the present action—was in a pen in the bird-room, being prepared for Kingswood show; and in the morning plaintiff saw the defendant's tabby getting out of the window of this room with the pigeon in its mouth. The animal had made a hole in the wire of the cage. The plaintiff immediately had the cat followed in order to make it give up its prey, and went himself to the defendant to complain of his Joss. Corcoran said he could not help it, as the cat could go where it liked and do what it liked. Consequently the present proceedings were instituted.

Plaintiff was called in support of Mr Gregory's statement, and in the course of his evidence he stated that the bird he lost was superior to the other three he had purchased with it. He had shown it at different shows.
His Honour: You did not show it at Fishponds ?—No. (Laughter.)
By Mr Wansbrough: The pigeon was worth all £10 when he bought it. He got it at a cheap price with the others because the man was selling off.
Mr Wansbrough: What is this cat's peculiar mark ?— Nothing but its smile. (Laughter.)
What kind of a smile?—A daring smile. (Loud laughter.)
It is a nice tabby and a fine tom cat.
Do you mean so fine that you can't see it ?-No. (Laughter.)
Mr Wansbrough. We. are going to have a cat show in a moment. We've got the cats and you've got the pigeon (indicating a stuffed bird in a case on the solicitors' desk).
Had the cat a switch to its tail ?--No, it was a straight tail. (Laughter.)
Had it a white shirt front?—No, he was a tabby all over.
A box was then brought into court, at the re-quest of Mr Wansbrough, containing a cat. Asked whether that was the animal which stole his pigeon, plaintiff said that was not the one.
Mr Wansbrough. Let me have another cat, please. Three additional cats were thereupon brought into court, but Hemmers could not positively state that either was the one which committed the mischief for which he sought to recover damages. In answer to additional questions, witness said he did not think either was the one which killed his pigeon. Replying to further questions, the witness stated that when he went to see Corcoran the cat was on the tiles eating bread.
Mr Wansbrough What an ill-bread thing. Is it a loaf-er cat ? (Laughter.)
The cats did not appear comfortable in their cages, and were continually making their presence in court known by mewing. His Honour therefore informed M Wansbrough that his witnesses must keep silence.
Mr Wansbrough. The fact is they are a-mews-ed. (Loud laughter.)
Further evidence having been given on behalf of the plaintiff, His Honour held that a prima facie case had been made out. Mr Wansbrough thereupon addressed the court for the defence, and contended that the evidence did not prove that Corcoran's cat killed plaintiff's pigeon. He pointed out various discrepancies in the evidence of identity.
His Honour. I suppose you have no evidence of an alibi.
Mr Wansbrough I am afraid not, sir. (Laughter.)
The defendant was called, and denied that his cat could have killed the pigeon, as he saw it just before plaintiff came to his house. The witness then, at Mr Gregory's request, looked at the four cats for the purpose of identifying his animal. After gazing at them for some time he admitted that he could not tell which belonged to him. One was, he said, his; the other three had been borrowed from neighbours. Afterwards he examined them and patted each, and finally fixed upon one which, on reference to the list handed to the judge, proved to be the one written down as belonging to the defendant. His Honour said he was sorry the case had not been tried by a jury, for he should have been happy to shift on to a jury the responsibility of a finding. He had a strong suspicion that it was Corcoran's cat that killed the pigeon, but suspicion would not do, and as a matter of law he must find for the defendant, with costs.

Walsall Advertiser, 21st October 1893

At the Staffordshire Quarter Sessions on (Wednesday) afternoon, before Mr. T. F. Twemlow, an appeal was heard against a decision of the Walsall licensing justices, at their adjourned annual licensing meeting, September 19th last. The appellant was Enoch Astley, occupier, Little Bloxwicb, Walsall, who appealed against the decision of the Bench not to renew his license. [The reasons for not renewing his licence included it being a house of a disorderly character and the drowning death of an excessively drunken patron] A case of assault occurred some time ago, the parties haring been drinking at that house. A cat show was held, it was alleged, on a Sunday, and at the house by Astley, and the magistrates cautioned him against repeating the show. Witness could not say that the show made the house a disorderly one. [. . .]
Mr. James: I understand the license was transferred on the 14th of March to Astley. Was there any caution given then that the house was of a disorderly character?
Mr. Boddam At that time there was no particular warning, except as regarded a cat show - (laugh ter.)

VIVISECTION OF CATS.; What Excited the Ire of President Angell of the Boston Society.
The New York Times, December 4, 1893

From the Boston Traveller. The offer of President George T. Angell of the Massachusetts Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals is bearing fruit. He has already received three designs in response to an offer of a prize of $30 for the "best outline cut of the devil teaching school boys and girls to dissect cats."

It is only very recently that Mr. Angell heard that school children were being taught to cut up the feline species of animals for scientific purposes. The first complaint came from Springfield from an outside source; this was followed by other complaints from a Fall River Judge and from a citizen of Montague. Then he heard that a book had been issued by a professor in Brown University containing full directions on vivisection. It advocated the dissection of cats, and suggested that field excursions be made occasionally in search of material for these operations. This book was circulated widely in the public schools and throughout the State. This led Mr. Angell to offer a prize of $50 for evidence which would enable the society with the long name to convict the teacher of any high school in Massachusetts for dissecting an animal before the school.

Later on Mr. Angell corresponded with the Superintendent of the Springfield public schools and others interested in vivisection. The former in a letter stated that it had always been the custom at the high schools to chloroform cats and other small animals, and when life was extinct to dissect them. This custom, he said, was pursued not only in the common schools, but in the normal schools and colleges of this Commonwealth.

In this city the study of Zoology is carried on at two high schools. At the Girls' High School, in West Newton Street, the Principal said that all the dissecting done there was upon clams, lobsters, and the lower forms of animal life, and that such bones as could be procured from the butcher’s were used to illustrate anatomy.

At the Roxbury High School Prof. French said that in that school cats were used to illustrate lessons, although perhaps not more often than once a year. “But when We kill a cat it is done as humanely as Mr. Angell would kill an old horse. Ether is administered so as to put the cat asleep, and when it is asleep enough more is given so that the cat will never awaken. Then we illustrate with fish, sending down to the market and getting a perch, for instance. The fish is passed around the room on a saucer and one will examine the gills, another the eye, another the brain, and so on all around until the fish is dissected. Everything is done after the manner advocated by Prof. Hyatt of the Natural History rooms, and is approved by the School Committee and the Supervisors."

Mr. Angell is on the lookout for schools in which this practice is carried on, and he will publish the names of the cities and towns, the schools, and the teachers in the schools who practice or allow vivisection.

FOUND DEAD WITH HER TWO CATS.; Mrs. Fowler, an Eccentric Keyport Woman Had a Rope Around Her Neck.
The New York Times, January 11, 1894

RED BANK, N. J., Jan. 10 -- Mrs. Ann Fowler, for many years a resident of Keyport, was found dead in her house to-day. By the side of her chair, on the floor, lay two dead cats. About her neck was a rope, not pulled tight. On the table was a raw chicken, partly cut up.

George Anderson, a neighbor of Mrs Fowler, had for several days noticed that the door of her house was open. Finally he made an investigation. Coroner Sickles was notified by Anderson. A search of the house disclosed many proofs of Mrs. Fowler’s eccentricities. A stove was wrapped in paper. Although it had been supposed she was poor, costly silk was found in a bureau drawer, and in a trunk many articles of silver. Mrs. Fowler was eighty years old. Her body was taken in charge by the Overseer of the Poor.

TOMBSTONES FOR HIS DUMB PETS.; Eccentric Mr. Brown of Peekskill Loved His Horses and Cats.
The New York Times, January 7, 1894

PEEKSKILL, Dec. 31 -- Coffin S. Brown, who was a prominent citizen and Democratic politician of this city for many years, and who died suddenly several years ago, was considered eccentric, as was also his wife. The fine Brown farm, where the couple lived, was bought last year by Dr. E.D. M. Lyon.

Part of a ravine on the farm, through which a brook ran, was leased to the New-York Central and Hudson River Railroad Company, which constructed a large stone dam and reservoir there. In clearing the premises various evidences of the eccentricities of the old couple were found. Among them were the graves of a number of pet animals, marked with time marble headstones of unique design and artistically inscribed.

Below one of the stones apparently rested the body of a white horse Mr. Brown had driven for many years. On the stone is inscribed:

“ Bolivar, our horse, died March 30, 1881. Requiescat in terra."

In another part of the grounds are two similar headstones, though smaller, one being over a score of years old. The older stone, of white marble, contains the inscription: '

"Blssle, died July 15, 1873, age eleven years."

“Plurie, died Dec 24: 1881, age seventeen years and six months. “

The last two graves are supposed to contain the bodies of pet cats.

Manchester Times, 2nd March 1894
A remarkable instance of a Cat showing great sympathy for a suffering companion has recently attracted the attention of the writer. There are two male cars, a black and a tabby, that have been living in the house for some years on the most affectionate terms, and during the present winter the tabby, which is the older of the two, became an invalid, and appeared to be suffering from some cutaneous irritation. Its black companion, Sambo, has, however, "taken it in hand," so to speak, and by a long course of licking has well nigh restored it to health. The tabby seems to thoroughly appreciate the value of the performance, and lowers and turns his head so that the spots that he evidently feels to be most in need of the " dressing "may be the more easily reached by Sambo. Moreover, the tabby is nursed as well as doctored by his faithful companion, resting his head on Sambo's shoulder as they lie dosing in front of the fire, and at night when they sleep in the same basket.

American Genres and Landscapes; Eke the Aristocrat of Cats (Excerpt)
The New York Times, March 23, 1894

At Kraushaar’s Art Gallery, Broadway, near Thirty-first Street, oils and watercolours by Carl Kahler are shown for two weeks, the Exhibition closing April 1. He, too, is a specialist - in cats – and vies with Mme Henriette Ronner of Holland as a painter of Angoras. Lovers of puss, take notice.

A Man Who Was Frightfully Bitten and Torn.
From the N. Y. Herald, May 1894.

“Coxey” was the noisiest cat in the whole neighborhood, and when it sang at night it attracted nearly every other feline in the neighborhood of Nos. 280 to 286 West 116th street. William Simpson is superintendent of the buildings, and it is probably because he has several canaries in his room in the basement of No. 282 that he detests cats.

“Coxey” was beautiful to look upon, however. It was of unusual size, with a white coat, prettily marked. Its large body, combined strength and grace in its lines, and “Coxey” might have been made king of any cat show, only it scorned such fashionable conventions. Simpson heard it singing in the front cellar on Thursday, and taking a lantern started to dislodge the cat. “Coxey” fled to a coal bin in a vault under the sidewalk. Simpson put down the lantern and started toward the intruder. The broad back of the cat arched and its eyes glowed in the half darkness. Simpson kicked at it, but missed. Then the cat landed on his chest, nearly knocking him from his feet, the needle like claws and teeth were tearing his neck.

Simpson finally succeeded in tearing the cat from him, but the cat was back again like a flash, its teeth in the man’s right arm. Simpson stumbled over the lantern, which was extinguished, and fell to the floor, the cat still tearing at him. It bit him several times on the hands and then frightfully lacerated his left hip. Simpson at last staggered out of the vault and closed the door behind him. He secured his revolver and went back to the light. Just as “Coxey” sprang at him he fired. The bullet struck the cat in the head and others finished it. Dr. Lombard, of 117th street and Seventh avenue, cauterized Simpson’s wounds, which despite treatment became very swollen. His left leg was rigid yesterday and there was no abatement of pain. There is fear of hydrophobia or blood poisoning.

The New York Times, April 2, 1894
From Our Dumb Animals.

A Boston lady writes us: “A short time ago I had a letter from a young girl in which she wrote thus about dissecting cats in school.

" Yesterday the teacher had two cats, one of which she 'intended to use in the morning, the other in the afternoon. But as they were kept together, they fought, and the one for the afternoon was scratched so badly she would not dissect it. Oh, it was such a relief to have this happen, for I was in the afternoon class and we did not have that dissection to go through with!”

The New York Times, May 20, 1894
Reprinted from the Worcester Spy

A friend tells me that she has four cats, each of which (or whom) dotes on asparagus, and believes herself cheated out of her legal rights if she does not have some whenever the family does. Ordinarily, these cats are well-mannered, but they will steal asparagus whenever they get a chance. One of them is also devoted to olives and popcorn, and is passionately “fond" of sponge cake, peanuts, and candy, particularly peanut candy. One, "Smartie," likes corn, either fresh or canned. Once the family was disturbed by a rumpus in the pantry; investigation proved it to be “Smartie," who had rammed his head into a tin of sweet corn that stood opened on a table. He shook and scratched and pranced about in futile endeavors to free himself. "Voltaire," another cat, is very fond of cheese, a taste which is considered distinctly underbred by his mistress, who accounts for it by the statement that “he came to us."

Lancaster Guardian, 23rd June 1894
Dear Aunt Daisy,—l am sending you a little story made up by myself. In a cosy little sitting-room in a small house, in the suburbs of London, sat a neatly dressed lady named Mrs. Carpenter, busily employed with her needlework. Perched her side was a handsome tabby cat. Pussy had not been on the table long, before the door was suddenly pushed open, and in rushed a little girl in breathless excitement.

“Oh, mamma,” she cried, look what I have just seen in the newspaper; there is a Cat Show to be held at the Crystal Palace one day next week. Will you send 'Gipsy’ to it, mamma? She has such nice coat.”

And without waiting for a reply, she caught the cat her arms, whilst her mamma read the newspaper. When Mrs. Carpenter had read it, Katie asked, “Well, mamma, what do you think of it?”

“I have no objection to sending Gipsy, if can manage it”

Katie fairly dancing for joy, exclaiming, “Oh, you are a good dear mamma ; I hope pussy will get a prize.” Then she ran out of the room singing as merry as a lark.

Katie’s mamma gave her some nice ribbons to tie round Gipsy’s neck. But the worst part of the performance was yet to come. A hamper was brought into the room and pussy laid upon a bed of sweet hay; the lid was then shut down, and Gipsy did not like it, and began struggling to get free. The hamper was then taken to the station and conveyed by train to the Crystal Palace, where she was left in charge of strangers. Among the people who visited the Cat Show were our two friends, Mrs. Carpenter and Katie. They were making their way through the crowd to see the animals, when they came to the cage at the end of the room.

Katie exclaimed “Oh, mamma, am sure that is our Gipsy” (pointing to tabby cat.) Mrs. Carpenter thought It was, but when they came near, and Katie called out, ” Gip, Gip, dear pussy,” the cat only answered ” mew,” and showed no signs of joy. They had to hurry for the train, and soon were at home again. Next day the hamper with pussy was returned, and as soon as they opened the lid out jumped Gipsy, full of delight at being home again; she scampered about so much, that Mr. Carpenter and Katie were highly amused. And though she was not awarded a prize, to their minds she was as handsome as any cat at the show.

I must conclude. From your affectionate Nephew, William J. Walker, C.D.C.

Belfast News-Letter, 1st September 1894

In these days, when most of us are ever seeking new ideas for the accumulation of that excellent thing which paltry poets describe as paltry dross, a new idea is always welcome, though one would scarcely expect the humble grimalkin to be a source of wealth. Nevertheless, “Sylvia's Journal" for this month shows us that nice little sums are to be made out of the careful treatment and breeding of cats. One of the most successful amateur cat fanciers is Mrs. Buller, who has a “cattery" at her picturesque country house in Surrey. In reply to “Sylvia's" interviewer, Mrs. Builer showed that pussy can be made a profitable as well as an affectionate pet.

“If properly managed," said Mrs. Buller, "cats can be made to pay well. A friend of mine made £240 in two years by prizes, sales, and stud fees. Of course, you must start with pedigree animals, and these are costly. The best plan is to choose one or two breeds, and try to perfect them. I am endeavouring to produce unmarked orange Persians, and am succeeding beyond my expectations. You shall see my lovely Marigold, with tier superb brush; Cowslip, too, and Buttercup, for I name them all after golden flowers. They are worth a considerable sum, orange Persian kittens fetching three guineas for females, and four guineas for toms. Long-haired cats are the most popular and, in my opinion, the most attractive. You must come and see my pets, although they all appear at a great disadvantage just now. It is the cats' moulting season, and every one of them is out of coat. Besides, a dreadful epidemic of influenza has been right through my cattery, and the poor things are only just recovering. Some were so ill that my maid and I took it in turns to sit up all night with them.”

Then Zula was introduced, a splendid fellow, whose tint to the initiated is light blue, but to the common mind more like slate colour. Afterwards followed Miss Betty, a beautifully-marked tortoise-shell, who took first prize at Cruft’s Aquarium Show, and a pair of royal cats of Siam, from whom great things are expected.

"Of course," continued Mrs.Buller, “I have to take great care of mv pets. The secret of success is judicious feeding and an avoidance of coddling. My kittens spend the day in the garden whenever the weather permits. The flower beds are covered with cocoanut fibre, in which they frollick about. You must never let Persians be out of doors in the wet. Their thick coats will not dry easily, and they get chills and die. I lost a superb tom from that cause a little while ago."

Another enthusiast in matters feline is Mrs. Herring, who has quite a little zoo, attached to her house in Kent. Parallel with the residence runs the cattery, containing ?well-arranged pens of match-board and wires irreproachably clean and comfortable.

“Not my ideal cattery," ' said Mrs. Herring. “A large field with several houses, so that the animals can be shifted from, one to the other, is what I should like. Here you see some of my prize-winners. That black, short-haired Malay cat is the famous Lady Curly Tail. The black smoke cat near her is The Countess, sister to Candace, the Crystal Palace medal-winner last year, when The Countess was highly commended. The blue Persian over there won the challenge vase and medal, and this pretty little cat, Lady Jap, hails from Chrysanthemum Land. You see, I give the ladies their freedom; the gentlemen are kept in a separate cattery behind the rockery."

Mrs. Herring seems to regard thirty cats as a very moderate number to have, and she advises us to keep only a few if we would make a profit. Then followed a dissertation on tile various species of cats, which include, among the short-haired tortoiseshell tabbies, whites, blacks, greys, and creams. Long-haired cats are the Persian, Angora, Indian, French, Russian and Chinese. Other varieties are Siamese, Abyssinian, Malay, Japanese, and Manx cats. Some of these breeds are sub-divided according to colour, especially Persian. The article continues:-

"I must show my lovely Siamese Queen Rhea, such a sweet and gentle creature, except when she has kittens, and then woe betide any cat that comas near her." Rolled in flannel, Rhea's kittens were brought down, mewing loudly with indignation, pretty little cream-coloured creatures with chocolate ears and muzzles. Then Mrs. Herring's pet Persian, The Countess, was hurried out of the room before Rhea made her appearance in the arms of her proud mistress. "'Of course, you have heard of the great imported Tiam. Queen Rhea is his daughter, the best Siamese female at Crufts show. Look at her beautiful blue eyes. Those kittens are worth six guineas each, so do you wonder I give them and their mother a room at the top of the house instead of a pen in the cattery?"

The cat seems to be heir to as many ill as man, but cold is one of his greatest enemies - barring the fox-terrier, of course-. Pussy's lovers may be glad to know that the best treatment for cold is a drop of camphor daily in half a teaspoonful of water. For bronchitis, Mrs. Herring prescribes, with delightful feminine vagueness, a. drop of aconite three times a day. I fear that aconite taken by the drop could cure feline colds almost as effectually as a fox-terrier.- " Tyro" in the "Sun."

Pall Mall Gazette, 18th September 1894
An elderly man, who stated he was a Trinity pensioner, informed the magistrate at the Thames police-court that his cat had been stolen from the Trinity grounds by some boys, and that he could not get it back. He stated that it was a Russian cat, and that it had gained a prize of £400, adding that it could jump 775 ft. The magistrate handed the applicant on to the warrant officer.

Western Gazette, 21st September, 1894
On Saturday, an elderly man, who stated he was a Trinity pensioner, informed the magistrate at the Thames police-court that he had lost a valuable cat from the Trinity ground.
Mr. Dickenson: It may have strayed. Cats wander.
Applicant: This one was stolen. Why it’s a Russian cat. The finest in the world; and it has gained a prize of £400. Three boys stole the cat, and afterwards quarrelled about the matter. One of the boys then came and told me what they had done. I saw the cat the other day.
Mr. Dickenson: Why didn’t you catch it?
Applicant; Ah, that wanted doing. It was in the hands of roughs. They had the cat in a basket, which they placed in a carriage and drove off. It was taken to the Alexandra Palace.
Mr. Dickenson: As a show cat?
Applicant: I suppose so. It’s most valuable and can jump 775 ft!
Mr. Dickenson: You had better see Warrant-officer Mattey, who will report to me.

Hartlepool Northern Daily Mail, 6th July 1894

A case which excited considerable interest and amusement came up at the Hartlepool County Court today. The parties it were Wm. Henry Hardy, brassfounder, of Hartlepool, and H. Elgie, hairdresser, Princess-street, West Hartlepool, and the point to decide upon was the ownership of a cat. Elgie had the cat in his possession at present, and Hardy, who claimed that the animal belonged to him, sued him for £5 or the return of the cat. Mr Mayson appeared for the plaintiff, and Mr J. Strover for the defendant.

Wm. H. Hardy stated that he owned several Persian cats. One was missing, however. It was a black Tom cat, and when a kitten had won a third prize at a local show, whilst its mother (an animal which he bought for £2) took a second prize at the Crystal Palace in 1892. He would recognise the cat, because when it was a kitten he by accident trod on its tail with his foot and broke it about an inch from the end. On the 19th May this year he sent it to his mother's in West Hartlepool, in order that she might keep it for him. On May 30th the cat was in Mr Elgie's possession. Asked if there was any other peculiarity by which he could recognise the cat, plaintiff replied that tell by the whistle he gave them.
His Honour: But the cat does not whistle? (Laughter.)
Piaintiff: No; I whistle.
His Honour: You whistle; and what comes of that?
Plaintiff: Weil, when I saw the cat at Mr. Elgie's I whistled, and the cat held up its head.
His Honour: But any cat will do that if it hears a great noise close to it.
Plaintiff farther said the cat was worth £5.
His Honour: How do you make that out? The mother only cost you £2.
Plaintiff, in reply, repeated that it had won a prize at a local show when a kitten.
Mr. Strover (cross-examining): Is there any other mark about this cat by which you can identify it?
Plaintiff: It was casting its coat when lost it.
Mr. Strover: Is it afraid of dogs? - No.
Mr Strover: Has it been brought amongst children? - Yes.
Mr Strover: And likes children? - Yes.
Asked if he remembered telling Mr. Elgie that the cat was only worth 10s, plaintiff replied no.
Mr. Strover: Has this cat any white hairs about it? - No, I think not.
Plaintiff, in reply to further questions, said the cat was a pure Persian.
Mr Strover: Would you be surprised to hear that it was a Russian cat?
Plaintiff: It does not matter whether is Russian or not; it is a Persian cat, (Laughter.)
Mr. Strover: Did you examine the hair near the skin? - No.
His Honour: Why should he do that?
Mr Strover: Well, the cat would be a pet, and he would often have it in his hands.
His Honour; It does not follow that he examined the hair under the skin. (Laughter.)
The cat was then produced and Mr. Hardy identified it aa belonging to him. The cat was next set at liberty and allowed to walk over the table, plaintiff meantime trying to call it to him by the whistle he spoke of. Seeing, however, that the cat was not responsive, he explained that Mr Elgie had had it for three months. The Persian seemed to be on good terms with defendant, and as was remarked by His Honour, with anyone in court. (Laughter.) The cat was then again consigned to the basket and commenced to mew piteously, continuing until again released from the confinement.
Elizabeth Hardy, plaintiff’s mother, stated that the cat was given her by her son.
His Honour: Then is your cat? – Yes.
His Honour: Then there is end of the case. The plaintiff is non-suited. He granted Mr Strover's application for cants.
Mrs Hardy: Then I will have to sue for the return of the cat.

The Scranton Tribune, November 5, 1894

Among other events during the last week there has been a pussy-cat show at the Crystal Palace, and standing among them one is tempted to alter the sentence uttered by the old parrot at a bird exhibition "Oh cocky! what a d—d lot of parrots!” The writer of these notes has up to the present imagined that the majority of feline creation assembled of an evening beneath his lattice window (fourth floor back) where they nightly repeat their too well known uproar — I mean opera! But he is wrong! for at the Palace there are “Cats to the right of one, cats to the left of one, clawing and purring,” cats with tails and cats without, cats of all colors and of varied beauty. The fee for entry is three shilling six pence to the ordinary individual and one shilling six pence to the, “down-trodden” working man, and 80 gallons of milk and mountains of cat-meat are in daily requirement. The pussies look very comfortable and draw large and appreciative audiences

Chicago Daily Tribune, November 11, 1894

The London Lancet says, apropos of the recent cat show: “The electrical effect produced by rubbing a cat’s back is, of course, well known ; it is also well known that this is frictional electricity, or, perhaps more correctly, the electricity of contact — that it is a surface effect produced by the rubbing, that it does not point to pre-existing electricity stored in the body of the animal, and that the person who, having concluded a massage, sinks into a chair declaring that his exhaustion is consequent on the loss of the living galvanism which he has imparted to the patient is a charlatan. It is to be remembered that friction between any dissimilar substances always produces electricity, and in illustration of this, the electrical effect sometimes produced in a dry atmosphere when the hair is combed or the body quickly divested of a flannel jersey may be instanced, or the classic experiment of rubbing a stick of sealing-wax on a rabbit’s fur may be called to mind. Those who are accustomed to rely on the curative effect of stroking a cat’s back may find consolation in the last-named experiment, inasmuch as it teaches them that when their ‘feline favorite’ is no more, health and strength may still be secured by gentle friction on its skin. Apart, however, from questions of Electro- physiology it is instructive to learn that the presence of white in the color of a cat, unless the animal be whole-colored, is a sign of weakness.

NAVAL CADETS' CRUEL SPORT.; Seven Cats Tied Together and Dangled from a Rope -- Strict Orders Against Hazing Promulgated.
The New York Times, November 21, 1894

ANNAPOLIS, Md., NOV. 20.-The military serenity of the new quarters at the Naval Academy occupied by the first, third, and fourth classes of cadets, was disturbed last night by an element unknown to naval regulations.'

There appeared on the first floor of the quarters, between 10 and 11 o’c1ock, when the cadets ought all to have been in bed, a wriggling mass of entangled cats. Seven animals, fastened tail to head, were scratching, fighting, caterwauling, and dangling, from the end of a, rope let down the stairway from the fourth door. The astounded orderly hastened to the rescue of the cats and to the restoration of military order. He cut the rope and released the captives, while the mischievous mice who did it crept softly to their holes.

Superintendent Cooper of the Naval Academy has issued an order, posted to-night on the bulletin board of the new quarters, warning the cadets that the orders of the Secretary, the regulations of the navy, and the acts of Congress forbidding hazing are not dead letters, but are still in force. The order comes in good season, as this is the period, from Oct. 1 to Christmas, when the main part of the hazing of the year is done at the academy, and for it almost every year several cadets who had promising careers before them have been expelled from the navy.

The New York Times, November 21, 1894 (reprinted from The Westminster Gazette)

It may not be generally known that a considerable sum of money for cats' meat appears annually as an item in the Post Office estimates. This meat, according' to The Animal’s Friend, goes to the support of a whole colony of cats at St. Martin’s-le-Grand. How they first came there, no one seems to know, but the general impression is that their ancestors belonged to the private offices which were demolished when the present General Post Office was built, and that they became “ strays " about the ruins until the rising walls gradually shut them in, and thus provided them with a home.

The New York Times, November 24, 1894 (reprinted from The Westminster Gazette)

The cats are invariably treated with great kindness by the postal stair. Kittens are horn in all sorts of odd corners, even occasionally under a desk or table in the sorting office. One cat has successfully reared during the present year a family of six in the Registered Letter Department, but this, of course, is exceptional. They are generally born in the kitchens, as there are plenty at old wornout coats about, which make a comfortable bed. As soon as they are old enough, some one requiring a cat takes one home to the domestic hearth. There is often a keen struggle for their possession and a man will feed both mother and kitten on milk and watch them with anxious eye, only to find in the end that he is a day too late, some one having forestalled him and quietly disappeared with the coveted pet.

Indianapolis News, Jan 19, 1895

Cats show great spirit in protecting their kittens; there is no enemy that may approach a cat with her kittens and remain unattacked. Once a cat was playing with her children about a barn-yard when suddenly a large hawk appeared on the scene, and seizing a kitten soared away. The mother cat gave a tremendous jump, caught the bird and made it drop its prey. A dreadful battle ensued. The hawk fought with battling wings, sharp talons and crooked beak. Mrs. Puss used mouth and claws, and though deprived on one eye, she struggled until she succeeded in breaking the hawk’s wings, and finally laying it dead. Nearly exhausted, and bleeding, she tore off her adversary’s head in great delight and regardless of her sufferings, ran to the bleeding kitten, licked its wounds that the hawk’s talons had made, and purred over the kitten with great content and happiness.

The New York Times, March 10, 1895

Little girls who have felt that it was not right that their big brothers’ dogs should always be the family pets to be shown for a prize may be consoled, for there is going to be a great big National Cat Show. It is going to be held in the Madison Square Garden, just where the dogs and horses and chickens proudly displayed themselves and there is every reason to think it will be a very fine affair. Almost $1,000 will be offered in prizes, with special prizes and medals besides. It will be the first cat show ever held in this country, but over in England they are very common, nearly every big city having one every year. If any of you have an especially clever or beautiful or rare cat, you will want to put it on exhibition, and any way you will all want to go and see the prize pussies of tother persons.

“Society Fads,” in Demorest’s Magazine for March, 1895

From England, where cats have ever been held in high esteem, and the Crystal Palace Cat Show has been for years a feature of the autumn season, the fancy for the Maltese has come to New York. Angoras and Persians are well in their way, and perhaps excel all domesticated felines in point of mere good looks; but they are delicate creatures, with less brains than the average animal, ill tempered, and victims of diphtheria. A well-bred downy Maltese is just now the favorite companion of pretty Miss Manhattan, who decks her small friend with a narrow satin neck-ribbon on which are sewed six tiny silver bells. On these are engraved the letters of pussy’s name. Mistresses who desire for their pets a unique ornamentation have one of the cat's ears bored and a gold or silver button screwed in. They say the animal suffers but little pain in the process since the hole bored is not larger than that made by a needle, and the button is the thinnest disk of silver, inscribed with Tabby’s owner’s initials. The special charms of the Maltese consist in its unusual intelligence, good temper, and robust health; for if fed on milk, bones, occasional bits of raw beef, and catnip, if not caressed to much, and provided with sufficient amusement, a long and merry life is hers.

Women who have enthusiastically embraced the cat craze often own three Maltese, at least; and, for the pleasure of the pampered creatures, place in a cosy nook by the fireside an extra-large satin-covered pillow, embroidered over with pussy-willows and the names of the three cats. Here they are taught, at the hour of afternoon tea, to curl up and accept with good grace the caresses of cat-loving visitors, or one pussy is mounted on the hostess’s knee, blinking amiably while she pours many cups; and the pretty vision was recently caught of a charming girl who moved about in her soft hostess-gown receiving guests for a luncheon, while a small cat was perched comfortably on her shoulder and would, at a word from its mistress, extend a velvet paw in hospitable greeting.

One of the reasons for the introduction of cats into general feminine society is due to the kindly offices of a learned lady Egyptologist. Cats, she avows, have no connection with spinsterhood, since cats have been found in the tomb of an Egyptian princess who enjoyed the companionship, in succession, of six husbands; and eight well-beloved sacred cats were buried with her. A load of anxiety has thereby been removed from feminine minds, and one can now cherish cat friendships without the fear of endangering matrimonial chances.

The Westminster Budget, March 15, 1895

Readers may like to be reminded of Frank Buckland’s story of “Puddles,” the fisher cat and constant companion of old George Butler, the Portsmouth boatsman. The story, as it appears in “Curiosities of Natural History,” is as follows:- “ ‘Puddles it’s my cat, sir, and that’s why they call me ‘Robinson Crusoe’ ’cause of my boat and my cat. He was the wonder- fullest cat as ever came but of Portsmouth harbour was ‘Puddles,’ and used to go out a-fishing with me every night . . . He would never touch a fish if you did not give it him. . . When it was fine, he used to stick up at the bows of the boat and sit a-watching the dogs [i.e. dogfish]. The dogs used to come alongside by thousands at a time, and when they was thick about he would dive in and fetch them out, jammed in his mouth as fast as may be, as if they was a parcel of rats, and he did not tremble with cold half so much as a Newfoundland dog ; he was used to it. He looked terribly wild about the head when he came up with the fish. I larnt him the water myself. One day when he was a kitten I took him down to the sea to wash and brush the fleas out of him, and in a week he would swim after a feather or a cork. He was a black cat natural, and I think the sea water made him blacker. He was a plaguy cat, though, for he would go out into the harbour to catch rats and come in all dirty and lay on my bed. I used to give him the ‘cat.’ I says, ‘So you’ve been up on my bed, have you ? Now take your punishment like a man.’ So I takes a nettle and stands him on his forefeet on the bottom of the stairs, and gives him his dozen. He stood quiet enough while I gave him one dozen, but if I gave him thirteen, marr’d he’d go and away he’d fly as savage as could be. It was a bad day when I lost my ‘Puddles.’ I am going to bring up another cat to the water. I got a kitten at home now, but he won’t act at all. I must get one before he can see and in with him into the water, though my cat took to it of his own accord. He was the most superbest cat as was ever afloat.’

THE COMMON OR GARDEN CAT - The Graphic, 16 March 1895
The common or garden cat on his nightly prowls in London may congratulate himself that he (toes not live in Westphalia. So exasperated are the people of Munster against the feline race that a large Anti-Cat Society has been formed, whose members are pledged to kill every cat within reach and bring in the tail as proof. In a year 1,222 tails were collected by the Society-so Munster sleeps in peace.

The Brooklyn Daily Eagle, March 28, 1895

Sixteen. Inches High, Has White Ruff and Built Like a Panther. It is a hurricane Fighter. John A. McAuley, Who Captured It in the Streets of Greenpoint, Has Had Some Fierce Battles With It — Now It Is Confined in a Specially Built Cage — It Probably Escaped From a Ship.

John A. McAuley, who claims to be the 115 pound amateur champion wrestler of the world and who lives with his wife in the Astral flats, corner of Franklin and India streets, has had all the wrestling he wanted in his own apartments during the past month. He has come out the victor each time. Had he failed in one of the matches, he might not have lived to tell how he lost the battle.

His antagonist has been a wild animal, of what species McAuley does not know. He calls it a wildcat, although several animal dealers who have seen the beast and who say they have seen all species of wildcats that ever were brought to New York, declare they never saw such an animal as the one McAuley has. McAuley captured his cat, if it is a cat, near the India street pier at 11:30 P.M. Sunday, March 3. He had a fierce fight with it that night, has had several since, and had his last yesterday, when he put it in a cage he had ordered for it. He has received several offers for the animal, but says he will keep it to enter it at the New York, cat show, if the show is to be held.

McAuley was walking with a policeman, through West street when he saw on the corner of India street an animal that he thought was a dog. The policeman said he thought the animal was a goat and approached it. He poked it with his club and it jumped from a doorway across the sidewalk to a coal box and from there back to another doorway. Then McAuley approached the animal and it sat up on its hind legs and made a strike at him with its fore paw, which is as large around as McAuley’s wrist.

McAuley had practiced quick catches with frisky Newfoundland dogs and he determined to try one of these catches on the strange animal. He waited until it was quiet and fell upon it. He threw his left arm around its body and caught its right paw in his right hand. Then began a terrible struggle. McAuley says he would have let the animal go had he known what he was about to tackle. He found it difficult to hold the cat's paw, but finally got it over its neck and pressed the claws down on its head. He caught the left paw with the hand of the right arm that was around the cat and he pressed the paw close to the underside of the cat's body. Then McAuley ran home. The cat's hind legs were free and were clawing holes in the wrestler's overcoat.

The policeman followed and took McAuley’s latch key from his pocket and opened his front door for him. When McAuley got to the sixth floor he threw the animal into a room and shut the door. In the morning he cowed it somewhat by discharging blank cartridges from his revolver at it, but has never been able to tame it. The cat tore up one end of the carpet in the room and dug pieces out of the floor. McAuley lassoed it and after another fight fixed a harness of belting lacing around it and chained it to the wall. He then continued his effort to tame it, but failed and could approach it only after he had discharged his revolver in its face several times.

A week ago the cat broke its harness and again began to wreck furniture. McAuley had had enough of fair and square fighting with a wildcat, so he throw a blanket over it and carried it in the blanket to a laundry from which all furniture had been removed. Then he ordered an iron cage and the cage was delivered at the Astral flats yesterday. McAuley went into the laundry alone and emptied the seven chambers of his revolver, in which there were no bullets, at the cat. Then he threw a heavy, cotton-filled quilt over it and threw cat, quilt and all into the cage. Although the animal was in the quilt for less than a minute, it tore it into shreds. It now wanders up and down its cage, which is 4 feet square, as a panther does.

The cat is 16 inches tall and weighs 39 pounds. Its body, except its hind legs, is covered with white hair that is 6 inches long. The hair on its hind legs is dark yellow and that of its tail, coal black. The black hair of the tail stands out straight on either side, making the tall appear to be 7 inches wide. The animal has the head of a cat and the paws and chest of a panther.

The watchman at the pier of the New York and Boston Dye Wood company, at the foot of Greene street, says that the Portuguese crew of a vessel that unloaded a cargo of dye wood from Venezuela at that pier came ashore one night early this month and searched neighboring wood yards for a wildcat which they said had escaped from the vessel. No scientist has seen the animal since it has been in Mr. McAuley's possession, and because the importers and dealers in animals who have seen it are unable to tell what it is, its present owner would be thankful if some naturalist would call on him and tell him what he captured in the streets of Greenpoint

They Are More Tractable. The Feline Exhibition In New York.
(Copyright, 1895 (expired), by Bachelier, Johnson & Bachelier. Washington Times, April 14, 1895)

COMING here to America as a representative of our Cat Clubs Cat Shows of London, to observe the first large cat show in the United States, I am impressed in the beginning with certain differences between English and Yankee pussies. In England we look for beauty of coat, size, and regularity or feature, using certain standards of beauty for a cat's head, as for a human head. But you, in America, look for all this and more too. You ask for accomplishments, tricks, a good carriage of the head and paws; and more than that you want a musical voice. Just fancy! Asking for a sweet meaou in a feline companion and requiring that she shall ask for her food and indicate her joy in certain tones of minor or major!

In England, the most accomplished cat I ever met — and I speak of her acquaintance with all pride — belonged to Lady Randolph Churchill. It was a maltese angora, without spot, and with a particularly cunning face. Her nose was a little shorter than the general breed of these cats, and there was a very broad space between her eyes. This denoted common sense, her owner proudly said. The cat was bought for the late Lord Randolph Churchill during that last year or two when the strong mind failed and every effort was made to amuse him. He was afraid of dogs, taking a sudden terror at the sight of them, and Miss Angora just pleased him. She was sent from India by an officer in that country, who had taken her parents there years before. Now, lineage, in a cat, as well as real folks, depends largely upon the number of years through which ancestry can be traced. If there are portraits of grandparents and great-grand- parents, so much the better, while if the ancestry has been recorded still further back, she becomes a really royal cat, commanding a high price, and not easily purchasable.

The Randolph Churchill cat, whose name, as nearly as I can recall it, was an abbreviation of Blenheim in some peculiarly twisted form, had a long lineage. Her mother had been a watch cat, able to keep guard over a tent, meaouing if a strange step came, and, of course, her children were very bright. “Go play the piano,” with this Churchill cat, brought an immediate walk back and forth over the keys of the baby grand in the boudoir. “Now sit for your picture" meant to assume a demure position with paws in line, tail neatly coiled around the said paws, and head nicely bent to one side as if trying to “look pleasant.”

In this country 1 have had the pleasure of witnessing the tricks of many wonderful cats. While in Washington I saw a cat in the Treasury building, belonging to nobody except the clerks there, go through a remarkable performance. His name was Tom, and when addressed he quickly responded, waking out of the soundest sleep to go toward the speaker. Several times to “faze" him, as the clerks said, they would sing the words of “Tombigbee River," to see Mr. Tom waken and show interest in his surroundings. "Tom, it’s dinner time,” said a very pretty girl clerk. And at once Tom walked across the room, reached up with his paws to a tin pail, clawed it down and came bringing it in his mouth. The office boy was then sent for milk I also saw Tom climb to a tall window seat at the cry of "hand-organ,” he being passionately fond of music; and slink under a desk at the words, “there’s a dog.”

I have seen in the Gentlemen's Riding Club, of New York, a pretty sight no doubt witnessed by many visitors to Gotham. It was an angora curled in the depths of a gentleman’s silk hat. The silk hat was the property of a wealthy bachelor and the angora belonged to the riding teacher who brought it to amuse the little ones of that swell organization. Upon being taunted with “Shame, shame," the angora crawled out without upsetting the hat, but snarling at all nearby as if very loath to give up her folding bed.

In a window on Fifth avenue I noticed a very queer sight, and one which made me wonder if the owner herself has ever seen it Upon an onyx table, inside a pair of point lace curtain stands a bust of Napoleon. It is one of those frowning things with cocked hat, front lock, and frown. Upon this table, well in front of Napoleon, so that no one inside would notice her, sat a large, beautiful, white cat. She had a yellow band about her neck, another round her tail; and she was indeed a beauty of catdom. Wetting one of her paws well upon her little red tongue, she would lift it gently and rub Napoleon’s face with it. All over the face she would go with that circular motion cats always use in washing. From the frowning brow to the stern chin not a spot escaped. Poor Napoleon! I fear that there remained a little flavor from the finish of the statue, as it was in colors, or mayhap puss, being very neat, always scoured her surroundings.

We have been trying in our English Cat Shows to find ways of teaching cats to follow like dogs. It is true that they will do so when very devoted. I bear that Miss Elsie Clews had a cat that would trail after her like a dog, so close as almost to be stepped upon. But, as a rule, cats will not follow. They cannot be taught it like dogs.

I notice that American society ladies buy angoras, and that their price is very great. Thinking to get points upon this subject for home comparison I dropped into an animal store to price cats. The cheapest was $30. "But, madame, we will pay back $5 each for the kittens," the shop woman assured me. It is a wonder to me that more persons do not go into the business or raising choice cats.

About the tones of a cat's voice there is much to say. If cats are well fed they meaou more sadly, yet, not so sharply. By this I mean that a small, hungry kitten cracks her voice pleading for something to eat and she can never get it back again. There is always a sharp, disagreeable note to the meaou, the sharp rasping note that brings many a kick for the street cat. But if a kitten is well fed she will not have this note at all. In fact, her first meaou will be one of terror when she climbs too high, or one of joy at seeing her plate of milk. When her milk dish is in sight she will give a long, plaintive wail that has been copied again and again by the young women who play the violin.

I notice in this country a fondness for the poll parrot, and that, on account of the pet bird, many families can keep no cat. This is more than a pity. In England we have parrots in great profusion, bringing them from Australia and the tropical islands, where every-one goes pleasuring with birds of brilliant plumage, canaries, linnets, love birds, etc. And we also keep pet cats. The truth is that instead of separating the two races of animals, we have taught them to live together in unity and happiness. You do not banish your dog because there are orchids growing in your house that wild dogs eat; no more then should your pet birds suffer from your cat. In the second generation of domestic cats a bird is never molested; and I was amused to note that in the home of Mrs. Neilson, a sister of Frederick Gebhard, and a woman the fame of whose pets has traveled around the world, there is a broad shelf, upon one corner of which there rests a silken cushion for a pet cat. In the middle of the shelf is a squirrel cage; upon the other end a sunny spot for a white bull pup, while overhead hang several singing canaries in a gold cage. The whole is saved from menagerie effect by the daintiness of the appointments and the beauty of the animals.

There is in New York, they tell me, a Mrs. Riching, who has an enormous large tortoise shell cat that will eat nothing but flounders. They are bought fresh every day, fried to a delicate brown, placed upon a plate which is put upon a wooden soap box over which a clean napkin is spread. As a precaution

Against the water bug, sometimes found in the pantry where the tortoise cat eats, the dish is placed in a pan of water so that not a bug can crawl in. Several times people visiting the household have declared that the cat would eat as well if the flounders were served in any other way. But Tom has starved himself two days at a time waiting for his clean dish, his browned flounder, and his tablecloth.

In London there lives a certain eccentric woman who aims at the training of the domestic cat. To teach pussy not to fear dogs or to attack little ones, she places pictures of giant dogs, and statues or them all around her home, and invariably upon the accession of kittens, places them where their first plaything will be a ball of paper tied to the tail of a plaster of Paris dog. This is but a faddish illustration, but it shows that the domestic cat has much to learn and is capable of learning it.

Since there is talk about bringing cats from the far West for the cat shows of the future and from all parts of the country, we may yet see in New York pet cats from the home of that California heiress, Miss Fair, who makes her own cat collars, I’m told, and takes her pets to walk with her by the half dozen.

How Tabby or Tommy May be Kept In Fine Condition.
Detroit Free Press, May 5, 1895.

The very excellent May cat show to be held In New York, has aroused in that city so deep and far-reaching a feminine interest in Tommy and Tabby, that now no domestic menage seems quite complete without a sleek pussy purring among the sofa pillows and sharing the affections of a mistress, who hitherto lavished her whole heart on some selfish little terrier or spaniel. Numbers of these pets will be bought at the show at handsome prices. The fashion of the moment is to name the Persians and Angoras after heroines In Sir Edwin Arnold's poems; to circle their throats with silver bangle collars, bearing tinkling little Oriental coins and engraved couplets of Oriental verse, to run ribbons through their poor pierced ears, and carry them about in the corner of a soft lace-clad arm. But these high-bred animals are delicate, bad-tempered and stupid, subject to dyspepsia that becomes chronic, and to pneumonia that hurries them to an early grave.

So if a woman wishes to enjoy the sympathetic companionship of a clever, healthy cat and a good mouser at that, let her not hesitate to steal a kitten from some nest of plebian but pretty gray-and white morsels found in the barn or cellar, and learn how much of good quality there is in a cat of the very lowest estate. For that matter, she will find that the commonest street prowler and back yard fighter has a great deal of the gentleman in his soul, if only it is coaxed out by kindness. In fact most cats sing to degradation through adverse circumstances and human brutality. The veriest ash-barrel scavenger when approached with a saucer of milk and Kindly noticed for a day or two will, in pure gratitude, mend his manners and toilet, and voluntarily make himself a fit companion for decent folk. If taken into refined surroundings as a kitten, he will rejoice in his opportunities like a flower brought to sunshine.

She who cherishes her pet will have its tin platter washed after each meal, will every day fill a bowl with fresh water, and set convenient for the thirsty little tongue, and rest assured that so long as Tommy gets abundant, regular and wholesome food he will have no inclination to do greater harm than to the occasional juicy mouse that crosses his path. Being naturally something of an epicure, he will relish once a week a cup of sweet cream poured over his dinner, a plate of raw beef chopped fine, or a dainty compound of boiled eggs chopped in cream. If fed with absolute regularity and allowed all the while access to fresh grass and water he will develop a handsome coat, a temper like sunshine and a size to command respect. He learns his mistress’ hand and voice, responds to the teaching of little tricks, becomes a dandy about his toilet and if once a week his forepaws are just touched with butter will give his coat a beautiful shine and polish.

One iron law in Tommy’s education should never be relaxed. That is in favor of nights spent at home. Give him a good, straw bed in the kitchen, and a fresh one every week. Turn him out for a run half an hour before closing the house, and let 10 o'clock find him where all honest folk should be. He is a creature of habit, and after a little drilling will voluntarily spurn all the fearful joys of prowls in the due and midnight meanderings with doubtful companions, for the snug security of his own little box. Tommy’s weak point is his stomach, and disorders of its organism are brought on by too much fondling, by teasing, and on his part, by swallowing some foreign substance. He will try to cure himself by eating grass and dieting, and it's best then to let him follow his own devices; when they appear to fall give him a warm dose of castor oil. Should he be seized with a cold, apply hot fomentations to his head. Keep him warm and dry, and diet him on good sherry and boiled eggs. For fits lance his nose of a drop or two of blood, give a pill of twelve grains of ground areca nut, or a dose of oil, and should his eyes ever be sore, treat them with any good eye-wash that is at hand. Under wise and kindly management there is no reason why he should not round out ten happy years, and remain a faithful, intelligent friend to the very end.

The Evening World, May 6, 1895

To the Editor:

To the show, to the show!
To the show onward,
Went all New Yorkers there
Even the millionaire;
All the old maids were there,
At the great Cat Show.

Cats to the right of them!
Cats to the left of them!
Making a racket.
Theirs not to do or die,
Theirs but to mew and cry
They raise their voices high
At the great Cat Show.
Toms to the right of them!
Tabs to the left of them!
Waiting for prizes.
Great was the scratching there,
Loud cries did fill the air
At the great Cat Show.

Cats from most every land,
Cats with some voices grand;
How will back fences stand
Without these night prowlers?
Nothing to throw things at
We do not want them back
From the great Cat Show.

The Washington Times, May 12, 1895.

One of the distinctive fads of Washington society is to have pets. Not just ordinary pets, but something as much out of the ordinary as possible. The Cat Show in New York has aroused the greatest amount of interest in Washington, and there has been considerable talk of getting up a rival show of pets in the near future. Just what may eventually come of this plan remains to be seen. It is quite probable that it will end only in talk, as a fancy that attacks society on the eve of the summer exodus is not likely to have sufficient staying power to survive until the autumn, when the return of society to town might possibly give a chance for its materialization.

Abundant material could be found in society for a show of pet animals. It is not unlikely that Mrs. Cleveland might contribute several of her household pets, as there is no end to the animals sent to the White House as pets for the President’s wife and children. [. . .] In the line of cats, the oddest cat ever owned by Mrs. Cleveland was a coon cat, sent her during the first years of her occupancy of the White House. This was a present sent to her by Dr. Garceau, of Boston, in the autumn of the year that Mrs. Cleveland’s mother spent the summer with Mrs. Lamont at Sorrento. The queer little cat was secured from one of the islands so numerous along the coast of Maine in the vicinity of Bar Harbor. This little coon cat was quite a success in the way of a curiosity, as the big furry tail grew to immense dimensions, larger indeed than the body of the cat itself.

Boston Post, May 13, 1895

National Tabby Show Ends in a Row Which May Go Into Court. NEW YORK, May 12.— The national cat show closed in a row last night, a row which was all over a prize of $25 in gold which the fair owner of Grover Cleveland, a magnificent tiger tabby, thought should have been awarded to her pet. When Miss Rose Beckett, whose Grover Cleveland took the first prize for being the best short-haired tabby with no white, read in the morning paper yesterday that the special prize of $25 in gold for the best short-haired tiger-marked cat had been awarded to Mrs. A. Draper's Mete, she went immediately to the Garden with fire in her eye, but kept her wrath bottled up until she met one of the editors of the paper which offered the prize. She told him that their prize had gone to “a nasty, insignificant, carroty little old house cat that ought to have been drowned when it was born,” and that she intended to enter a protest against the decision of the judges, as her Grover Cleveland had been voted the success of the show by an overwhelming major-ity.

Miss Beckett is a ballet mistress. She came here from London four years ago, and is well known in theatrical circles. Miss Beckett told a reporter that she was going to law about the matter, and that bright and early on Monday morning she would employ a lawyer. After Grover got first prize, his mistress was so confident that he would win the special that she had a printed placard stating that he had won it put up in his cage before the cats were passed on by the Judges for the special. The management had this notice removed and destroyed, and this made Miss Beckett very angry. The Judges say that Mete is a yellow tiger-marked short-haired English cat with beautifully even stripes strongly contrasted with the ground color, and that he is decidedly one of the most symmetrical cats in the show.

The New York Times, May 16th, 1895

Jealousy of His Son Probably Caused Him to Leave the Cat Show. Nicky, the green-eyed black cat that ran away from the cat show in Madison Square Garden last week, returned to his home yesterday, after spending several days doing just as he pleased. Nicky was expected to take a prize. The judges were pleased with the symmetry of his form, the length of his whiskers, and his agreeable manners, but they dared not; give the prize to a black cat that did not have yellow eyes. Nicky saw the judges pass by and award a prize to his son. Grover. He was disgusted, and concluded to leave the show. He made his escape at the first opportunity. Nicky’s mistress has been hunting for him ever since. This had nothing to do with Nicky's return. The cat came back when he got ready, and not a moment sooner. He had a somewhat tired look, as of one who had made a transcontinental pedestrian journey in hot and dusty weather, but his general health was good. Nicky’s mistress believes that the cat was brought back through the charm of a four-leaved clover. A friend gave a talismanic clover to her, and twenty minutes afterward in walked Mr. Nicky. It has been decided that Nicky shall never be trusted again in any cat show, or in any other place outside his home.

The Ottawa Journal, May 18th, 1895.

One of the great attractions of the week has been the cat show at the Madison Square Garden. At first it was problematic, whether society would patronize the new fad; but it did, and while it is true that some of the most distinguished representatives of our creme de la creme failed to put in an appearance» there was, nevertheless, a good, substantial representation of old blue blood, so that for years to come the cat show promises to be one of the great social events of the season; equalling, if not surpassing, the show of horses and dogs. One never realizes how many kinds of cats there are in this world till you visit a cat show, and people who have only made Grimalkin’s or Tom's acquaintance from the top of the fence at midnight, when he or she, was singing Trilby to the light of a September moon, and you tried your marksmanship at thirty yards with a junk bottle or a bootjack, and missed them every time, you will never know the difference between this disturber of your dreams and a well bred and properly educated cat who has been reared amid the restraints of a wholesome civilization. Many of the cats were as beautiful as any creature that walks on four legs. There were cats with splendid glossy coats of fur, and others with hides as bare as the palm of your hand. Cats were there whose coats am as white as the mountain snow, and others, as black as the midnight. Angora, maltese, tortoise-shell, and in one cage was a splendid cat in company with a canary and a chameleon, a very happy family. It is evident that Puss and Tom are not without friends In New York, and I am one of them. "Love me, love my cat."

The National Tribune, June 13, 1895

Pussy And Her Language - By Marvin R. Clark. Published by the author, and for sale by him at the New York Press Club, New York City. Price 50 cents.

Marvin R. Clark is a man of 40 years’ experience in newspaper work in New York City. When we learned that after becoming totally blind six years ago he mastered the typewriter, and continued his work upon it without any change in the machine, although be never before had used the typewriter, it seemed marvelous and was commented upon by newspapers throughout the world. But Mr. Clark’s day of wonderful things has not ended, for he has just issued a new book of great interest, advancing and proving the existence of a language of communication of thought between the members of the cat family, he not only proves such a language to be in vogue, but gives many cat words in common use by our household pet, defining them clearly. He shows the manner of construction and development of the language. In this respect the work is unique, but the book is also interesting from beginning to end, for the wonderful stories related of the cat by the most reliable foreign and American naturalists. The beautiful characteristics of the cat are shown in high colors. The author claims that the cat will be found superior to the dog in most respects if given the same opportunities, and her gentleness of movement and touch, her gracefulness, her faithfulness, patience, usefulness, good nature, carefulness, honesty and solicitude for the family to which she is attached, are traits which commend her to the favorable notice which she has not heretofore received. He says that her usefulness is demonstrated in ridding the house of rodents and other vermin, in being an object of admiration, in telling by her eyes the time of day, in good-naturedly amusing the children, in being the best known barometer, and in many other ways. The Cat Show held this month in New York was a great success, and had for patrons the most aristocratic ladies and gentlemen of the city. Mr. Clark's work is first to appear in defense of the feline. He claims that language is of divine origin, and that God not only gave to man the power of speech, but that all animals are endowed with the same Dower. He emphasises the great importance of a descriptive language and the use of it by the cat. If you want to know what your cat knows and the secrets she can tell the world ; it you desire to assure yourself that the cat has carried away the skeleton from the closet; if you love the feline and wish to read good things about her; if you would enjoy reading what her earnest defender has to say of her slanderers uttered against her; and if your heart prompts you to encourage an old writer, totally blind, with wonderful grit, still pursuing his vocation for the support of his family, you will get a copy of “ Pussy and Her Language” for 50 cents. If your bookseller does not get it, send the price to the author-publisher at the New York Press Club, 34 West Twenty-sixth street, N. Y.

IN A CATS' HOME. Treatment of Pussies Lead to a Libel Suit.
South Wales Echo, 5th July 1895

There is a cats and dogs' home in the neighbourhood of the Harrow-road, where sometimes 60 cats - let alone dogs - reside at once. The official tariff is three meals a day and sometimes afternoon tea, the menu comprising breakfast, milk and fish; dinner, meat; supper, fish and milk. Mr Scatley, an engine driver with a pension, and his wife, used to stand in loco parentis to the happy family, and Mr Scatley joined with his paternal functions that of butler.

Yesterday a libel action was heard before Mr Justice Wills because Miss Crofton, of Shooter's Hill, a committee lady of the home, has impugned the conduct of the place under the Scatleys. Miss Bonney said she found the home "in a disgusting state of dirt," and the other cats looked in a dreadful state. Some were dying, others crawling about and crying bitterly as if for food. Miss Kearey's complaint of the condition of her cat when she fetched it away was emphasised by the fact that she paid 1s 6d a week for her pet as a boarder, and it didn't get the separate accommodation she bargained for. It had to lie on an asphalts pavement with the others, and the place looked bare. Whereat Mr Candy made jokes. Did the lady expect to see pictures on the walls for the cats to look at? Did she expect the Scatleys to provide entertainment for the family? Miss Kearey smiled composedly, and said she didn’t.

Mr H. Grey, who afterward became veterinary surgeon to the Home, found it "like a pigsty” and some of the cats were, he said, as light as a feather. They would have stood a better chance turned into the road," he said.

Mr Thomas, who supplied two quarts of milk per morning to Mrs Scatiey, was called. Mrs Scatley had asked him what he was going to say, he told the Court, and when he replied, “The truth," she exclaimed, in that case we shall lose our case." (Laughter.) So Thomas deposed. Mr Cany claimed that the defendant's letter showed that she was simply actuated by personal spite, and had allowed herself - counsel's "natural levity," as he called it, come into play - to be made the "catspaw" of richer people. The Scatleys did their best; that was Mr Candy's position. They couldn't help it if cats got ill or refused food. People were not going for 10s a week between them to exercise personal influence on 60 or 70 cats at meal times. Life wasn't long enough to go bowing to each with, “Puddles may I offer you some of this?" (Laughter.) The jury found for the defendant on the ground that there was no evidence of malice.

The Inter Ocean, July 15, 1895

Composer of “Sweet Marie” Talks of an Old Acquaintance - Pussy Was A Railroader - She Accompanied the Bard When He Fired a Locomotive - The Devoted Feline Lost Her Life in a Wreck —Gossip of the Hotel Corridors.

"You have heard of the railroad dog, of course,” said Cy Warman at the Great Northern yesterday evening. “Everybody has, but I'll venture to say that you never heard of railway cat. Well, I used to have one. You know I used to fire on the Rio Grande Western before I turned literary and perpetrated ‘Sweet Marie,’ 'Agnes, I Love You,’ and divers other rhythmical productions upon the dear public. Don't laugh, for I am in dead earnest. I did railroad for a number of years —really - and not on tie passes, either, but on the cab of a locomotive. I got mixed up with one of those big mountain climbers in a wreck one time and that led to my reformation. After that I quit the business cold and turned poet. Well, now for the tabby.

"You know the exploits of the railroad dog have been recounted in divers places — how he saved a train and the lives of the passengers from a fathomless pit or a dark yawning abyss and all that. Those are all stories of the railroader of which the dog is the hero of the hour. My yarn is not like those old wornout stories, for pussy was too well trained to do anything so rash as to save a train and thereby endanger her own life. In the first place puss was a pet of the land lady where most of the railroad men boarded and, in consequence, the cat took a liking to railroading.

“She was a remarkable traveler, and she preferred the tender of a freight locomotive to a Pullman palace car. When the train would have a long wait at a side track or station Miss Puss would descend from her perch on the pile of coal, or, if the weather was inclement, from the seat of the engineer, where she would sit looking out on the track beyond, and go in hunt of mice; and if it was lunch hour would hunt up the kitchen door of the depot eating-house. She was a great favorite, and always had the best the house afforded. She was a beautiful cat. Her fur was jet black, and when the engine was running down the steep grades of the mountains she would hold her place on the top of the tender with all the grace and dignity imaginable, and if the wind was blowing she would ruffle up her black coat of fur as though entering a protest. Puss never missed a trip all the time I was on the road after she took the railroad fever.

“When I left the Western puss had to choose between her owner and the big, black monster that had carried her so many miles. I remember the day I went out to bid the big inanimate object good-by. I was very much attached to it. Why not? We had gone through a wreck together, and it had received the brunt of a collision with a big rock. I looked at the engine, which was steamed up ready to start on its trip, and soon saw puss mount to her perch on the coal. I spoke tenderly to her, and she arched her back and purred knowingly. When I bid the boys good-by and called her she came part way, looked up at me in an undecided manner, and finally gave a pitiful meow, and walked off toward the engine again. She kept up her habit for several years after that, and finally was crushed to death in a wreck. She was found curled up on the box by the side of the inanimate form of the engineer. Both had died at the post of duty.”

The New York Times, July 25, 1895 (reprinted from The London Truth)

The following shows how the new woman is getting on. Not only have men lost their attractions for her, but mice, it would seem, have lost their terrors:

“ Required, furnished apartments for nine ladies, Accommodation for bicycles. Gentlenen and cats objected to. Write B. O., &c.”

So far as the men are concerned, however, this strikes me as a little previous. Would it not have been better to wait and see whether any living-man would dare to trust himself under the same roof with nine bicyling females?_I feel confident that these Vestals may dismiss their fears.

They Live in East Twenty-ninth Street and Were Cruelly Mutilated by an Unknown Man
The New York Times, July 18, 1895

A number of East Twenty-ninth Street cats have been minus their tails since Sunday morning. The only person who is able to throw any light on the manner in which they lost there is Hattie Boas who has charge of the house at 133 East Twenty-ninth Street. She says that she was awakened Sunday morning by hearing the cry of a Cat, and on looking out of the window she saw a tall young man drop a cat whose tail he had just cut off. He had another cat in his arms, and after clipping its tail off he walked rapidly away. When she opened the front door later in the morning she found two catless tails.

A reporter for The New-York Times saw two of the unfortunate cats yesterday. Both of them were very lively and seemed to suffer no inconvenience. Superlntendent Charles H. Hankinson of the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals said no complaints had been received by him at the society’s office regarding the matter. Miss McCartie of 151 East Twenty-ninth Street, however, says she will send a written complaint to the society.

" Cats are not licensed," said Superintendent Hankinson, " but they should have the names of their owners on ribbons or collars. If caught, the man who mutilated the cats can be fined $500 or imprisoned for one year or fined and imprisoned.

The New York Times, July 3, 1895

THE CAT. A Guide to the classification and Varieties of Cats, and a Short Treatise upon Their care. Diseases and Treatment. By Rush Shippen Huidekoper. M. D. 18mo. New-York D, Appleton at Co, $1.

No matter whether you love or do not love a cat, you must give to the cat a leading position in the family of the Felidae. The cat is built on the strictest business principles. Study the skeleton of a cat, and you will see what a mass of back-action levers he is. Then you will understand why a cat can jump, and the send-off he gets from the angles of the joints of his legs. Only straighten out those elastic springs of his, remembering the snap his fine muscles impart to them, and you may understand how it came about that your pet canary, hanging a clear 12 feet 6 inches from the floor, was within quite easy reach of the cat. The Felidae feed upon other animals, and in supreme activity work while as silent as shadows. The cat hides at will his claws, and keeps them sharp under velvet cushions, and has the most splendid set of teeth imaginable. Then his eye is a masterpiece. He can expand or contract his pupil at pleasure, so as to get in the faintest ray, concentrate that., or put on shutters to his eyes in a glaring light. Then, as to color, he really asserts himself to his surroundings. Though the cat has had, say, 5,000 years of civilization and domestication, our authority is correct when he writes: "The household tabby to-day preserves far more of its ancestral traits than any other of the four-fooled associates of man.” ’

Whence comes the term puss? We flatter ourselves that the cat likes it. What it really means is the sound imitative of the spitting of the cat. The cat is so full of egoism or individualism, in contradistinction to the altruism of the dog, that the name “cat” runs with the slightest variations through all languages. Whether It be spelled with a " k," a “g," or one final "t," or two, it is the same thing in all speech of Teutonic or Latin origin. In Spanish it is gato, in Greek gatta in Russian kot, in Armenian kaz, in Turkish kedi, or in Arable quitt. Invariably the same name turns up.

The author clearly describes the many varieties of the cat, and shows what are their nice points. Sometimes a cat has to he destroyed, and our authority advises the use of chloroform. To kill a cat with arsenic or strychnine is cruel. You ought never to shoot a cat unless you know exactly where to piece your ball.

Mr. Huidekoper’s is an excellent volume, and by reading it maybe the conditlon of many of our home pets can be improved, for, if you can't keep a dog, a reader might be induced to cherish a cat. The difference between the cat and the dog in relation to man is one of advances. Your dog comes to you. You have to go to your cat. Woman's fondness !or a cat, we suppose, lies In the fact that tabby is her master.

The Inter Ocean, July 15, 1895

Composer of “Sweet Marie” Talks of an Old Acquaintance - Pussy Was A Railroader - She Accompanied the Bard When He Fired a Locomotive - The Devoted Feline Lost Her Life in a Wreck —Gossip of the Hotel Corridors.

"You have heard of the railroad dog, of course,” said Cy Warman at the Great Northern yesterday evening. “Everybody has, but I'll venture to say that you never heard of railway cat. Well, I used to have one. You know I used to fire on the Rio Grande Western before I turned literary and perpetrated ‘Sweet Marie,’ 'Agnes, I Love You,’ and divers other rhythmical productions upon the dear public. Don't laugh, for I am in dead earnest. I did railroad for a number of years —really - and not on tie passes, either, but on the cab of a locomotive. I got mixed up with one of those big mountain climbers in a wreck one time and that led to my reformation. After that I quit the business cold and turned poet. Well, now for the tabby.

"You know the exploits of the railroad dog have been recounted in divers places — how he saved a train and the lives of the passengers from a fathomless pit or a dark yawning abyss and all that. Those are all stories of the railroader of which the dog is the hero of the hour. My yarn is not like those old wornout stories, for pussy was too well trained to do anything so rash as to save a train and thereby endanger her own life. In the first place puss was a pet of the land lady where most of the railroad men boarded and, in consequence, the cat took a liking to railroading.

“She was a remarkable traveler, and she preferred the tender of a freight locomotive to a Pullman palace car. When the train would have a long wait at a side track or station Miss Puss would descend from her perch on the pile of coal, or, if the weather was inclement, from the seat of the engineer, where she would sit looking out on the track beyond, and go in hunt of mice; and if it was lunch hour would hunt up the kitchen door of the depot eating-house. She was a great favorite, and always had the best the house afforded. She was a beautiful cat. Her fur was jet black, and when the engine was running down the steep grades of the mountains she would hold her place on the top of the tender with all the grace and dignity imaginable, and if the wind was blowing she would ruffle up her black coat of fur as though entering a protest. Puss never missed a trip all the time I was on the road after she took the railroad fever.

“When I left the Western puss had to choose between her owner and the big, black monster that had carried her so many miles.
I remember the day I went out to bid the big inanimate object good-by. I was very much attached to it. Why not? We had gone through a wreck together, and it had received the brunt of a collision with a big rock. I looked at the engine, which was steamed up ready to start on its trip, and soon saw puss mount to her perch on the coal. I spoke tenderly to her, and she arched her back and purred knowingly. When I bid the boys good-by and called her she came part way, looked up at me in an undecided manner, and finally gave a pitiful meow, and walked off toward the engine again. She kept up her habit for several years after that, and finally was crushed to death in a wreck. She was found curled up on the box by the side of the inanimate form of the engineer. Both had died at the post of duty.”

Sheffield Independent, 6th September 1895

Mr. Louis Wain has been interviewed by a representative of "Cassell's Saturday Journal," and in the course of his conversation mentioned that for some years he studied music with the view to taking a degree. From music he drifted into art, studying at the West London School, where he was the subject of much banter from his fellow students in consequence of being left-banded. This peculiarity he overcame, and he is now ambidextrous, but all his work at the present day is executed with the left hand. Mr. Wain was first employed as an artist upon a sporting paper, where in time he exhausted his ideas of fat cattle and fatter agriculturists. "But about this time," said Mr. Wain, "I had at home begun to make studies, at first more for practice and pastime than for any other reason, of a very fine and affectionate black and white English cat, an immense favourite with my wife - for I had married when I was quite young - and myself, and called 'Peter.' Then the pictorial possibilities of the cat, treated humorously and ideally rather than in a matter-of- fact manner, occurred to me. Through several illustrations in another publication, I was offered a commission by the "Illustrated London News," for a full-page drawing for the 1886-7 Christmas number of that paper. I suggested a cat picture, and this ultimately became a double page. Time being short, I worked at it, with scanty intervals of rest, for 11 days. It contained 150 cats with varying expressions of face; it was a success; and I have had commissions for pictures dealing with cats - l think I may say it - from all over the world ever since.

“Last year I did 400 drawings and paintings, and I have already completed quite 300 this year. At least two-thirds of these have dealt with cats, for it is hard to convince editors, or the world in general, that one can do anything clever apart from one's speciality. When any idea has struck me, dealing with music, stories, pictures, or inventions, I have, wherever I might be, made a note of it on a separate slip of paper, and I have now a great trunk full of these, and I refer to them pretty often, too.

"I hold strong views in regard to the intelligence of the cat, and I believe that it will rank higher in general estimation in the future than even it has done in the past. But this question would demand a separate essay of himself. Both as an artist and as President of the Cat Club I receive the most astonishing and fully authenticated facts about cats from all parts of the world. I have at present four cat models, one of these being my dear old Peter, whom I regard as the founder of my reputation. Peter is now 3 years old, almost humanly intelligent, and the best-tempered, most placid, and, withal, the most dignified of animals. My other three present models consist of 'Bigit,’ a magnificent Siamese cat, given to me by the Duchess of Bedford – a devoted lover of animals - and which is a most quaintly mischievous creature that is variously taken by the uninitiated for a foreign dog or a puma; 'Mimi,’ a pretty little French cat, which we tease for her wandering habits, alleging always that she is bent on making her way back to La Belle France, but is invariably dissuaded from doing so by some English cat lover whom she meets on the way; and a beautiful English long-haired tabby, called ‘Lee.' Bigit, the Siamese one, came to me with a bad character, having eaten a splendid golden pheasant, worth £25, belonging to the Duchess, but he has toned down amazingly under the reproachful and unsympathetic eye of the decorous Peter."

Newcastle Courant, 26th October 1895

How wonderfully the condition of our feline pets has changed to be sure. There was a day, and that not very long ago either, when a cat show was unheard of, and the only known varieties consisted of the Common cat, the Manx, and a very poor sort of long-haired animal. Now we find a monster cat show in the Crystal Palace, four judges hard at work upon an entry of 622. Cats of every description were to be found surrounded by an admiring crowd. Nor have the prospects of the cat fancy ever been brighter, for while it was noticed that most our famous cats such as Samson, Xenophon, Champion, Laurel King, and others still held their own, connoisseurs were not slow in discovering that many of the- youngsters which now appeared for the first time were the higher quality.

Most people who keep several cats of any high class breed find it necessary to devote something more than a mere corner of the house to their favourites. An ordinary household cat may wander about at will, but no satisfactory results will be obtained in this way from high-class animals. As a correspondent pointed out only last week, one cat soon draws others, and then the trouble commences. Trouble which causes not only sleepless nights, but litters of mongrel kittens, queens spoilt for breeding purposes [see note], and Toms which not only distribute their favours too freely, but are also apt to appear with torn cars and scarred heads at just about the time when they are required for breeding purposes. This being the case, the best plan is from the very commencement to provide proper sleeping accommodation, and moreover lose no time in finding a safe and suitable exercising ground, for it is well to remember that though a cat may safe enough in the garden with its mistress, there are times when is sadly apt to play truant.

[Note: it was believed that the influence of a previous mate would affect all later litters. Many females were destroyed if they mis-mated because it was believed they would not produce pure-bred offspring later on.]

The Kansas City Gazette, November 15, 1895

What Come of Tacking a Sign on His Warehouse. One of the great annoyances which Alfred Weston has had to suffer at his feed and coal establishment at the corner of Seventh street and the Northwestern tracks has been from mice and rats. They fairly swarm in the neighborhood and cause great inconvenience and damage by gnawing through the sacks of feed, and until recently, it was a difficult matter keep a whole gunny sack about the place. Now however, Mr. Weston claims to have obtained a measure of relief, and it all comes of a sign which he keeps posted conspicuously on his warehouse. The sign reads: “Cats wanted.” Every time the birth of a new litter of kittens takes place out on the Chelsea Park branch, and one is selected to continue the lineage in the family, the balance, when they are old enough are taken to Weston’s warehouse. For numbers and variety of strains the felines which now make their rendezvous at Weston’s eclipse anything in the way of a cat show ever seen in the west. And as very natural sequence, the rodents have to be very circumspect in their foraging. The cats are now in the majority and Mr. Weston is thinking seriously of taking down his sign.

THE CAT SHOW by Lydia Welch, Cuero, Tex
The Galveston Daily News, December 8, 1895

“Just another cup of tea, my dear,
And then to hear the news;
Your visits, always cheer me,
They drive away the blues.

"Now you are talking treason
In this lovely country home;
I'm sure there is no reason
For blues or wish to roam.

“Nay, no more tea, I thank you,
I really feel no thirst;
Of the cat show now I’ll tell you
You see it was the first,

Held In our charming city,
I tell you it was great,
Indeed it was a pity
That you arrived so late.

These cats of all kinds and all colors
Were complacent and calm as could be
Behind prison bars with ribbons so gay
They seemed happy as though they were free;
Just as our wealthy young ladies
Are brought up with a prospect in view
Of a bow to the Queen or a count for a spouse
Too nonchalant to show things are new.
I’ve noticed, my dear, among horses
And dogs, when I’ve been to their shows
They cannot restrain their excitement;
Indeed, as everyone knows,
They get so easily rattled
By the praise they seem to invite
Just like we women, you know, dear,
When we’re dressed for an opening night.
But these cats were so cool and complacent,
With none of that shrinking or fear,
As much as to say ‘Pay attention,
For that is the reason I'm here.’
I think if you study the life of a cat
You will find they’re the happiest set.
You see, they’ve no conscience, no morals,
They freely take all they can get;
Your dog will engage in a battle
With another he meets around town,
That it takes him quite two days to settle
And live this same small matter down.
I once had a dog, he was fleecy and white,
His ears lined with daintiest pink;
He fought with another, 'twas quite long fight,
Indeed, ’twas on Sunday, I think.
Now, when a white dog gets into a fight
The marks show so dreadfully plain:
With tell-tale zig-zags and his head out of shape,
The sight of him caused us all pain.
He looked so heart broken and sad
Like a drunkard whose friends Keeley cure recommend
As they beg him brace and be glad.
Then our dog he retires to the back of the stove.
Indeed, 'tis too had for poor Rover,
He stays there a day or two, hiding, in fact,
For it takes him that long to recover.
My cat, too, is white, with trimmings of pink,
She sits looking so blameless and calm,
And yet I declare she's just home from a tear,
From those fights she returns free from harm.
All these cats at the show were society cats
With the sleekest of coats and smart collars.
They could all do the most unnatural things,
‘Tis a fad that society follows.
Now society people try to write books
And for cats to dance is the passion,
Though they scarce do it well, it is unnatural,
So that makes it quite in the fashion.
Have you noticed, my dear, at fair and bazaar,
How charming an actress will look,
Indeed, quite superior, seems to think we’re inferior
And say we are not in their book.
They know how to bank on their personal charms
In a way we never can learn,
The sense of their beauty they drive to the hearts
For which we may languish and yearn.
Now these petted cats took the same graceful pose,
Half-closed eyes so lazy expressing
‘We are here for a show, it cost money, you know;’
Thus they seemed us poor mortals addressing.

"Then there were the wild cats, with dangerous mark,
And that made them quite interesting,
For the signal attracts, no matter where shown,
Be it ice, wine or novels interesting.
These beautiful creatures, with lithe, lazy grace
And glittering eyes quite impressed me,
Made me think of the Indians, handsome and straight,
I mean those we read of in the past.
For the Indians at present are not handsome at all,
They seem quite of a different caste.

“And now for the last, the poor, rescued cats
The pussies with weak, shady pasts,
With dissolute faces and whiskers untrimmed,
Lives half-wasted and follies broadcast;
They sat there, poor things, so ashamed of themselves,
Or pretended to be I’m afraid,
With one in in order, the other closed up
From some roof garden sad escapade.
I wish this poor cat could her story relate,
She sits looking so broken and sad,
It was not her fault, poor pity will say,
When they have found one has gone to the bad.
And this now, I think, is the end of the list;
As I told you before, ‘twas a pity
To miss this, the latest society fad,
The first cat show held in New York City.”

Described by a Milwaukee Lady Who Saw Them.
The Times (USA), December 26, 1895

A Milwaukee lady who has recently returned from abroad says that one of the most interesting exhibits which she saw in Europe was the National Cat Show of England, which was held at the Crystal Palace, London, in which about seven hundred cats were shown. “The decided feature of the exhibition,” she said, “was the number of superb red tabbies, together with a fine assortment of pure blacks, smoke-colored cats, and cats with that peculiar tone of glossy coat known as cat blue. The efforts of the English cat breeders this year past have been blue and black cats. In the opinion of many experts a black cat without any markings whatever of white is the most perfect variety that is known, and it is proof of the appreciation of this that certain dishonest people will pluck the white hairs out of a cat one by one. It has been noticed that the classes that are open to working men in this national exhibition are particularly strong in fine black cats. Blue-eyed, white-coated cats are getting to be highly valued in England now, and one of these bore off the other day a substantial money prize that was offered by Louis Wain, the great cat artist. Another prize of the show was a brown tabby tom, Champion Xenophon, which its owner values at $5,000,”

From Temple Bar (reprinted by The New York Times, December 27, 1895)

Cats do not take punishment as dogs do; their tempers rise, and if struck they are apt to strike back; but beyond a gentle cuff to a kitten, now and then, I find a scolding or an exclamation of rebuke enough. They are also less intelligent and forgiving than a dog if unintentionally kicked or trodden on. There is no more beautiful expression in a dog's face than the look he turns to the friend who has involuntarily hurt him, before there is time to explain; his whole demeanor expresses the highest magnanimity, not only the foregone pardon, but the eager desire that the offender shall think no more of the matter.

In many respects cats are more like men and women than dogs are; they have moods, and their nature is complex. A dog is very much of a piece; he is a good dog or a bad dog, brave or cowardly, honest or a sneak; the canine intelligence is much higher than the feline, but: the disposition is simpler.

Cats are exceedingly irritable by temperament, sensitive to changes of the weather, to frost, to thunder; they are excitable and naturally disposed to bite and scratch when at play; there is a curious tendency in them, as in ill-balanced or overstrung human beings, to lose their heads when in high spirits, and the self-command most of them show when full-grown in resisting these impulses is a striking proof of conscious responsibility. A full-grown cat scarcely ever scratches a young child, no matter how much mauled by it. Besides being irritable they are moody and subject to depression, probably a physical reaction from the former condition. Princess, though not a sullen cat, would sometimes forsake the hearth or veranda, and pass days by herself on a garden wall or under a bush. Not ill or out of temper, but out of spirits, morbid, and wishing for solitude instead of the sympathy which she always sought in her real ailments and bereavements.

Her peculiarities, both of race and individuality, were remarkably defined, even when she held them in restraint, but with one exception, all the cats I have known are cautious. Their instinct when ill or sad is to be alone, but this is entirely neutralized by petting; they become as dependent on caresses and sympathy as children, and much wiser than children when they are ill or injured, as they apply for relief with the most unmistakable suggestions, sometimes indicating plainly where they are in pain, and presenting the suffering member for treatment. They are not so patient as dogs in taking medicine, or submitting to surgical care, but show their recognition of its benefit by coming back for it under similar circumstances.



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