Marvin R. Clark

Under the classification of remarkable instances of the intelligence of animals, I omitted one instance, pertinent to this story and astonishing to me, unless it may be regarded as an accident. I will give it without the least coloring of the truth. The manuscript of the preceding part of this treatise was prepared some time ago, and placed in a drawer of my desk with many other rolls of writing, the drawer being filled with them. For several successive nights I heard a peculiar noise in this drawer, but, although the sounds emitted seemed to indicate the gnawing of a mouse, I could not bring myself to the belief that such a busy little animal could gain access to the drawer, or would be able to find anything attractive to him there. However, my amanuensis, having occasion to open the drawer one day, exclaimed with surprise that the mice had been making a nest in the drawer. Upon examination we found that the paper gnawed was this article treating upon the enemy of the mouse—the Cat—while the other rolls of manuscript remained untouched. Now, whether this act was committed in a spirit of vandalism and to demonstrate the hatred of the destroyers for the subject of the story, or with a mere wanton desire to destroy my property, I cannot surmise. Certain it is, however, that they singled out this matter about the Cat, and left uninjured the other manuscript, thus demonstrating the fact, it seems to me, that the Cat story and none other was the object of their search.

It was at the time when my attention was called to the subject of the simian language that my memory recurred to an important document in my possession relating to the Cat. After a prolonged search, with a determination to rescue it from the oblivion into which I had unintentionally cast it, I, with more success than generally rewards such searches, discovered the document, and will have the pleasure of presenting it to the public, giving it a free translation from the French, in which language it is written. The history of this wonderful document is short. Some years ago I was the editor of a New York morning newspaper, and one day there chanced to call upon me at my office a French gentleman of about fifty years of age, rather short in stature, fairly well dressed, with a benevolent countenance, bright, black eyes, regular features with the exception of a prominent nose and the unmistakable stamp of a litterateur. His hands and feet were small, and he had a nervous air about him while he gesticulated in the expression of his ideas, and spoke in a mixture of French and English, just as all pure Frenchmen are accustomed to do.

He had previously sent in to me his card, which read thus:

"Alphonse Leon Grimaldi, F.R.S., F.G.S., M.O.S.,
D.H. du C., M.F.A.S., M.F.A., et al.
"Rue de HonorÉ, 13, Paris.
"Metropolitan Hotel, N.Y."

Prof. Grimaldi, the French gentleman, presented himself to my wondering eyes as I rose to meet him, and extended his hand with a Chesterfieldian bow, exclaiming, as nearly as my memory serves:

"Jais ver happy for ze honaire of ze attention pour le editaire of one great journal."

I replied, of course, that I was proud to meet him, and asked what he desired to know, and how I could serve so great a scientist, for the reputation of this great man and his wonderful scientific researches and discoveries had reached my ears upon the wings of many foreign messages even then.

As I replied to the Professor in his native tongue, he expressed himself as being more at his ease, although he offered to converse with me in English, a language in which, he said, "he was perfectly at home, and spoke fluently," as all Frenchmen pride themselves upon being able to do after a month's practice, without taking into consideration that Webster claims words in our language to the extent of six figures. However, I considered my French much more comprehensible than his English, and the conversation was continued in that language, very much to his delight.

He informed me that he had made a life study of the animal kingdom, and that, for many years, unknown to his most intimate friends and associates in the scientific world, he had made a particular study of the Cat and its habits, while of late years he had come to the conclusion that Cats have a language all their own. To my surprise he informed me that he had demonstrated in a paper, which he drew from his pocket, the fact that upon his theories, and by a close observation of the rules set down in his manuscript upon the Cat language, the whole world might acquire it. He presented me with the document in recognition of my sympathy with him in a subject so near his heart, and expressed a hope that I might find time in the near future to examine and print his theories and the results of his investigations. The reason for his keeping the facts of his researches a secret from his most intimate friends and his scientific brethren, he remarked, was that if he had not carried the subject to a successful termination, he never could have lived through the sarcasm and taunts of these men of science, who would have overwhelmed him with abuse because of his failure.

I glanced at the title of the paper, and, after thanking him for his valuable gift, and promising to read it at some leisure hour, I bade him adieu, and resumed my duties, having placed the paper in the editorial desk.

To those who are aware of the numberless documents and the thousands of articles upon various subjects which accumulate in and about the desk of an editor, I need not explain that this paper was soon buried, so that when my memory recurred to it, a month later, the document could not be found, and I finally gave up my quest, and considered the paper last beyond recovery. Imagine my rejoicing, however, when, but a few months ago, I found it intact, and perused its contents with great surprise. I was the more rejoiced at its recovery because it verifies my own theories, and proves beyond a doubt that the Cat has a language which may be spoken by anybody who will make a study of it. What wonders this discovery will work in every community of the civilized world may better be imagined than described. The accumulated secrets of many years will be told, and crimes and misdemeanors which until now have baffled inquisitors will be unearthed, and the perpetrators punished; little peccadillos will be given to the gossipers, and even the tender passages between John and his girl in the parlor or the sitting-room, in the arbor, or upon the way through "lover's land," will become subject for tattle among gossipers.