M. Sonnini, when in Egypt, had an Angora cat, of which he was extremely fond. It was entirely covered with long white silken hairs, and its tail formed a magnificent plume, which the animal elevated at pleasure over its body. Not one spot, not a single dark shade marred the dazzling whiteness of its coat. Its nose and lips were of a delicate rose color. Two large eyes sparkled in its round head; one was of yellow and the other of fine blue.

This beautiful animal had even more beauty of manners than grace in attitude and movements. However ill any one used her, she never tried to put out her claws from their sheaths. Sensible to kindness, she licked the hand which caressed, and even the one which tormented her. In Sonnini's solitary moments, she kept the most of the time close by his side. She interrupted him often in the midst of his labors or meditations, by little caresses that were very touching, and she usually followed him in his walks. During his absence she sought and called for him all the time. She knew his voice at a distance, and seemed on each fresh meeting with him to feel increased delight.

“This animal,” says Sonnini, “was my principal amusement for several years. How plainly was her love for me shown in her face! How many times have her caresses made me forget my troubles and comforted me in the midst of my misfortunes! My beautiful and interesting companion, however, at last died. After several days of suffering, during which I never left her, the light of her eyes, which were constantly fixed on me, went out, and her death rent my heart with sorrow.”