The Nomad of the Nine Lives

I was indeed glad to find that my ambition to have an education was to be realized. In my early days at the meat market I used to slip out on the sidewalk and try to spell out the words on the daily bulletin blackboards, such as "Spare ribs, 25 cents," "Best spring lamb, 30 cents," and "Best rump steak, 45 cents." I used to wait until some plump old lady with a market basket came along and read these signs. She often scolded, but I did not then know why. I have since learned that my childhood was in a time when the high cost of living was in everybody's mouth. As I had learned so much in that way, I felt that I was able to skip the primary grade, and so started in with a great deal of confidence to pick up an education. For instance, the fact that I was allowed to roam in the various rooms in the evenings permitted me to observe, among other things, how the earth revolved on its axis. I often proved this fact by tapping a large globe with my paw and watching Africa chase Asia and Asia in turn pursue America as it turned swiftly around.

The janitor had an office in the basement, and I was supposed to stay there during the school session, but I used to creep softly up the stairway and listen at the class-room doors. Often the door of a dressing-room chanced to be open and I could enter here and watch through the crack of the school-room door. I learned to read in this manner, and took up arithmetic, which was rather difficult, but I studied hard evenings and made good progress, until I came to vulgar fractions.

Remembering mother's dislike of anything unrefined, however, I closed the book and did not dare to go on. I fared very well, for the janitor's wife sent me bread and milk, and occasionally bits of fish and meat. I had the run of the school at night and consequently could learn a great many things while prowling around in quest of rats and mice; in fact, I always managed to catch a few and leave them where they could be seen (I did not care to eat them) before I settled down to hard study, and so revealed to the janitor that I was doing my duty. I used to find some choice tid-bits in the desks, some of which opened at the end, and did not lift at the top; pieces of cake, numerous pickled limes (for which I did not care), and also plenty of cookies, and sometimes a sandwich.

I observed by the aid of a mirror standing on the floor in a teacher's closet that I was growing large and good-looking; my dark coat was smooth and glossy, my white shirt-front set off a well poised head, and I possessed as fine a pair of whiskers as ever graced a cat. Of these I was extremely proud, but used to keep my entire person well groomed as well as that particular portion of my features. I exercised in the school yard in order to keep in good form and also took boxing lessons from an acquaintance, who occasionally called. I soon began to tire of the school life and dull studies, however, and longed to go out somewhat during the evening, but the janitor was careful to lock me in the school at eight o'clock.

One evening I found that a window on the ground floor had been left open. It was but the matter of a moment to vault out and I found myself on the street alone at night for the first time in my life.

I remembered mother's advice, but thought that she was rather too particular; indeed I felt that I could come to no harm, so walked down the street, keeping an eye out for dogs, as mother had warned me to do.

I soon perceived that the broad highway was too much exposed for my traveling, and so I proceeded into a back yard, jumped a fence, and found myself on a back road, where market men deliver their goods. It was really quite attractive and sociable, for I came upon a group who seemed to be serenading some mutual acquaintance. I had listened to the children singing at school, and had looked over the song books, and had even practised a few scales. In this way I discovered that I had a very clear tenor voice, so I immediately joined the group. They did not seem particularly anxious to have me do so, and as I now look back, I can see how young and fresh I was.

Jumping upon a fence, I at once threw out my chest and proceeded to give them a tenor solo. I was wholly unprepared for what followed.

In an instant they all charged at me, howling, spitting, and finally succeeded in knocking me from my high position. Down on the ground we rolled and struggled. Fur flew! Oh, how they scratched and kicked and pummeled me. One bit pieces out of my ears, another gave me a black eye. In my agony I thought of mother and that her warnings were right after all. I found out afterwards that the object of their serenade was a lady, and my fine appearance and good voice made them wild with jealousy. I could have put up a good fight against one or two enemies, but an army of five proved too much for me. However, I got in a few savage bites and scratches, which I think they remembered for some time.

During this terrible battle we all gave vocal selections in different keys, which could hardly be called pleasing to the ear, and were rewarded by a shower of empty bottles, old shoes, hair brushes, and finally some unkind person threw a pitcher of ice-water at us, from a window above. This last offering served to break up the encounter, as well as the pitcher.

Upon being invited behind the scenes of a theatre some weeks later, and peeping from the wings, I noticed that a young girl (who gave a song and dance) was showered with roses, violets and other beautiful flowers. I could not understand this great difference as her voice did not sound any better than mine, I thought, although it may sound conceited in me to say this.

I finally escaped with the remains of my ninth life and when I got away from my new friends (?) I limped painfully back to the school house, thinking how glad I should be to clamber in again and nurse my wounds. When I reached there and looked for the open window I found to my horror that it was closed. What should I do? Too weak to run from an offensive dog, must I lie helpless in an open school yard? It was not to be thought of.

I rested awhile and felt a little better. No bones were broken. I could walk slowly, and as mother's provision store was not far away, I decided to take the risk of finding a cellar window open there. So, painfully limping along back streets and resting in dark corners, I arrived at my destination at midnight, and found that a window had been left open. It was a brave task to jump down but better than staying out all night, so I set my teeth and leaped softly in. I was greeted with a snarl and hiss which sounded like a bunch of fire-crackers going off, and there was mother on guard, standing with arched back in front of a box of newly-born kittens in a dark corner. I crept toward her and with a cry of delight she recognized me. I told my pitiful story while she gently led me to another corner and bade me lie down on some carpeting, near which stood a saucer of milk. She lapped my wounds and comforted me with kind words. She said she was afraid at first that I was a bad quarrelsome cat, and that it almost broke her heart. Judging from remarks that she dropped and as she had such sad eyes and sighed so often, I am sadly afraid that father himself was not exactly a Sunday-school model. I was stiff and sore the next day and stayed in my corner. Mother brought part of her dinner to me, but I could not bear to take the food from a nursing mother. The cries of the kittens wore on my nerves to such an extent that I wondered if I could ever settle down to a domestic life.