staccato notes of a vanished summer-第3章

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whole　ocean　inviting　to　the　tragic　rite；　I　do　not　believe　there　is　ever　a
kitten　drowned　in　Kittery；　the　illimitable　sea　rather　employs　itself　in
supplying　the　fish　to　which　〃no　cat's　averse；〃　but　which　the　cats　of
Kittery　demand　to　have　cooked。　　They　do　not　like　raw　fish；　they　say　it
plainly；　and　they　prefer　to　have　the　bones　taken　out　for　them；　though
they　do　not　insist　upon　that　point。

At　least；　Jim　never　did　so　from　the　time　when　he　first　scented　the　odor
of　delicate　young　mackerel　in　the　evening　air　about　our　kitchen；　and
dropped　in　upon　the　maids　there　with　a　fine　casual　effect　of　being　merely
out　for　a　walk；　and　feeling　it　a　neighborly　thing　to　call。　　He　had　on　a
silver　collar；　engraved　with　his　name　and　surname；　which　offered　itself
for　introduction　like　a　visiting…card。　　He　was　too　polite　to　ask　himself
to　the　table　at　once；　but　after　he　had　been　welcomed　to　the　family
circle；　he　formed　the　habit　of　finding　himself　with　us　at　breakfast　and
supper；　when　he　sauntered　in　like　one　who　should　say；　〃Did　I　smell　fish？〃
but　would　not　go　further　in　the　way　of　hinting。

He　had　no　need　to　do　so。　　He　was　made　at　home；　and　freely　invited　to　our
best　not　only　in　fish；　but　in　chicken；　for　which　he　showed　a　nice　taste；
and　in　sweetcorn；　for　which　he　revealed　a　most　surprising　fondness　when
it　was　cut　from　the　cob　for　him。　　After　he　had　breakfasted　or　supped　he
gracefully　suggested　that　he　was　thirsty　by　climbing　to　the　table　where
the　water…pitcher　stood　and　stretching　his　fine　feline　head　towards　it。
When　he　had　lapped　up　his　saucer　of　water；　he　marched　into　the　parlor；
and　riveted　the　chains　upon　our　fondness　by　taking　the　best　chair　and
going　to　sleep　in　it　in　attitudes　of　Egyptian；　of　Assyrian　majesty。
His　arts　were　few　or　none；　he　rather　disdained　to　practise　any；　he
completed　our　conquest　by　maintaining　himself　simply　a　fascinating
presence；　and　perhaps　we　spoiled　Jim。　　It　is　certain　that　he　came　under
my　window　at　two　o'clock　one　night；　and　tried　the　kitchen　door。　　It
resisted　his　efforts　to　get　in；　and　then　Jim　began　to　use　language　which
I　had　never　heard　from　the　lips　of　a　cat　before；　and　seldom　from　the　lips
of　a　man。　　I　will　not　repeat　it；　enough　that　it　carried　to　the　listener
the　conviction　that　Jim　was　not　sober。　　Where　he　could　have　got　his
liquor　in　the　totally　abstinent　State　of　Maine　I　could　not　positively
say；　but　probably　of　some　sailor　who　had　brought　it　from　the　neighboring
New　Hampshire　coast。　　There　could　be　no　doubt；　however；　that　Jim　was
drunk；　and　a　dash　from　the　water…pitcher　seemed　the　only　thing　for　him。
The　water　did　not　touch　him；　but　he　started　back　in　surprise　and　grief；
and　vanished　into　the　night　without　a　word。

His　feelings　must　have　been　deeply　wounded；　for　it　was　almost　a　week
before　he　came　near　us　again；　and　then　I　think　that　nothing　but　young
lobster　would　have　brought　him。　　He　forgave　us　finally；　and　made　us　of
his　party　in　the　quarrel　he　began　gradually　to　have　with　the　large　yellow
cat　of　a　next…door　neighbor。　　This　culminated　one　afternoon；　after　a　long
exchange　of　mediaeval　defiance　and　insult；　in　a　battle　upon　a　bed　of　rag…
weed；　with　wild　shrieks　of　rage；　and　prodigious　feats　of　ground　and　lofty
tumbling。　　It　seemed　to　our　anxious　eyes　that　Jim　was　getting　the　worst
of　it；　but　when　we　afterwards　visited　the　battle…field　and　picked　up
several　tufts　of　blond　fur；　we　were　in　a　doubt　which　was　afterwards
heightened　by　Jim's　invasion　of　the　yellow　cat's　territory；　where　he
stretched　himself　defiantly　upon　the　grass　and　seemed　to　be　challenging
the　yellow　cat　to　come　out　and　try　to　put　him　off　the　premises。








End