He was in an
emaciated state distressing to behold, and then one of his hind legs was
broken so that the bone protruded through the skin. The dear old cat was
at once fed, but it was soon seen that his injury was incurable, and our
truly humane father said the only thing to do with Tom was to put him
out of his misery. This was done, but we have ever kept in mind the cat
that would not go from its first home, even with those it loved, and yet
remembered those friends and came to them in trouble. I should have
stated above, that the two homes were less than a mile apart.
Morris was another black and white cat, named Morris from our minister,
who gave him to brother. He was a fine fellow, and would jump a bar four
feet from the floor. But brother obtained a pair of tiny squirrels, the
striped squirrels, and feared that Morris would catch them, for he was
all alert when he spied them, and so the cat was sent to the house of a
friend, as this friend wished to possess him. Morris was let out of the
basket in which he was carried into our friend's kitchen, and giving one
frightened look at his surroundings he sprang up the chimney and was
never seen by any of his early friends again. Poor Morris, we never knew
his fate!
One cat we named Snowball, just because he was so black. This cat was an
unprincipled thief, and all unknown to us a person who disliked cats in
general, and thieving cats in particular, killed Snowball.
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