Miranda Eliot Swan

PERHAPS a confession of my sin may be a warning to others. I know it will be interesting to my friends. It was in the house of the "philanthropist" of whom I have written before in my book.

One day when I went down for my outing I saw a door open that I had never noticed before. It is a well-known fact that a cat never passes an opening without looking in; they never leave a mystery unsolved if they can discover it.

The conditions were favorable, no one was about; "Oliver Twist" was out of the way; so I just wandered in. It proved to be the store-closet, and on a plate unfortunately near me, within my reach, was a piece of steak. It was large, but I saw my opportunity. It looked very nice, just like the steak our good doctor ordered for Mrs. Rice. She could taste but little, while I could devour it all. Thought I, "This will be nice for my mistress." So I just jumped up, and after several ineffectual efforts got it in my mouth. By holding my head high I could just walk with it, for it was long and reached to the floor.

It was some time before I could get started, for I was all of a quiver, starting at every sound, and in my hurry, tripping over it, getting so mad that I said, "Hiss! hiss!" just where an old boy of the human kind would have said something more to the point.

Then came the greatest difficulty,—three flights of stairs to mount. I had to rest at every landing, and when at last, breathing hard, but proud and happy, I laid my offering at my mistress's feet, instead of the delight I anticipated she screamed out, "Oh, Daisy, what have you done?" I looked at her, amazed. "You naughty cat! Look Eleanor," she said; "see! he has stolen this piece of meat. What shall we do?"

"I am very sorry. Of course we can pay for it," Miss Eleanor said, "but then Daisy has lost his character; they will never trust him again. Oh, how could you be so naughty, Daisy?"

I began to realize that my little offering had not been the success I thought it would be. Why, I could not understand; so I just walked under the bed, my place of refuge, and in high dudgeon reflected on my deed of darkness, for such it seemed to be. Miss Milly had scolded me, Miss Eleanor had reproved me, and I was very much provoked.

Miss Eleanor said: "I will go down and speak about it. If you go, you will be so provoked; if they speak one word against Daisy, you will not keep your temper."

I waited in fear and trembling, not knowing what would be done. She soon returned, saying, "I have paid her for half a pound of steak."

"Half?" said Miss Milly; "why, it could not be over a quarter, and old steak at that."

"I know that, but I would have no words with her. I simply told my story, expressed my regrets, and asked what I should pay her, and gave the money in silence and disgust. She remarked she always thought Daisy was a sly one."

This aroused a tempest of wrath. Having to pay twice the amount for a piece of stale meat was nothing compared to her calling me sly.

"Come out, Daisy," my mistress said; "I know you are sorry, and did not understand how wrong it was to take that steak!"

I did not go out for a long time. My feelings were hurt at the injustice I had suffered; and I was very dignified. My mistress took me in her arms, saying:—

"My dear kitty, I know you did not mean to do wrong; but to take anything belonging to others that is not given to you is stealing, and people are punished for it—I do believe," she said to Miss Eleanor, "that this dear cat got that steak as much for us as for himself." And she gave me a hug.

Then I could no longer control myself. I could not speak, but I got up and put both paws around Miss Milly's neck and licked her face. She was quite overcome, as she said: "I will never forget that you did this for me. But you now know what stealing means, and must never do it again."

And I never did. But oh, how good that steak did taste! I had heard it said that "stolen fruit is sweet," and I found it so. I had worked hard over it, and I enjoyed it.

I was not very unhappy that my mistress had to pay for it; for I had a friend who gave me pennies enough to buy all my extra food, and I said to myself, "She can take the money from that." So that afternoon I went to the table where my little tin bank was kept, and just pushed it off, and out came the pennies.

The noise aroused my mistress. How they did laugh, saying, "Daisy is paying for her meat." But they put them all back and kissed me, saying I was a very honorable cat. I wished I could speak and ask my mistress if that "philanthropist" was a church member. If so, did they allow extortion?

I think "Oliver Twist" was a free-thinker, for he seemed to grasp everything as his own, recognizing no law; certainly he did not favor our church. Perhaps, like the cat that a smart boy tried to sell, she represented the belief of the person to whom the boy offered her. When this enterprising boy had offered his cat to a member of every other denomination, he came to an Episcopalian. He was asked why he called her an Episcopalian, when he had just said she was a Baptist. "Oh," he answered, "but her eyes are open now."

I think "Oliver Twist" and his mistress were born with their eyes open.

This little item has run in my silly head ever since Miss Eleanor read it.

I must tell you before I forget it about the friend with the high-stepping horses. It was not quite six months after her visit to us that I wrote about that she was taken very ill and sent for my mistress to come and see her just before she died. She said to her:—

"Milly, I have never known one moment's peace since you gave me such a lesson on my cruelty to my horses. I seemed to realize, after you had spoken, just how foolish I had been in following a wicked fashion. My husband has promised me that Aunt Mary shall have them, and she is so devoted to animals she will never allow any abuse. Though I cannot restore their tails, they will be made comfortable. Old Mike, her coachman, will make them happy if any one can. I realize all they suffered, and think I deserve to lose all I misused so thoughtlessly."

Is not this an illustration of the good one brave word can do? If my mistress, fearing to offend her wealthy friend, had not spoken, the poor horses would never have been released from their suffering, and the conscience of her friend never awakened. If every one who is witness to an act of cruelty would remonstrate against it, there would be some chance of reform.

Many people say, "It is no business of mine if people ill-treat their own animals." But it is the business of every one with Christian feelings to speak for the poor dumb animals, for they cannot speak for themselves. Children, if taught when young, would never be cruel.

Miss Eleanor saw a little boy carry three little kittens into a lot where a house was being built. The boy was sent on this cruel errand by his mother. Their cries made Miss Eleanor's heart ache, and she had decided to go over for them and see what could be done to keep them, when a poor woman came along, who could not turn a deaf ear to their piteous cries, but went to them. They were so glad to see her, she said, though she was poor, she could not leave them alone. Miss Eleanor gave her some money, and the woman said she would find them good homes.

This is only one instance of what is going on day by day. Is there no help for it?