THE CAT AS AN UNCONSCIOUS HUMORIST.
TO speak of the cat as a humorist, in any shape or form, sounds, we admit, something very like a contradiction in terms. There are hundreds of people—and by people we mean, of course, only those who belong to the fraternity of cat-lovers, and are bound by that subtle tie of freemasonry that unites all the adherents of the white, the black, the tor- toiseahell, the grey, the mustard, and the tabby—who are pre- pared to maintain that the notion of humour must be altogether dissociated from the cat, and that dignity, degenerating in a few exceptional cases into pomposity on the one hand, or insolence and cynicism on the other, is her special quality, and, indeed, the only one marked enough to deserve particular attention. Though we do not altogether agree with this theory, we are pre- pared to acknowledge that it is the one ordinarily entertained, and further to admit that up to a certain point there is a good deal to be said for it. Looked at merely from one point of view, cats are all dignity and reserve, and display a hauteur of de- meanour which marks them off as the aristocrats of the animal world,—their absolute refusal to hurry even under the greatest provocation is alone enough to earn them the right to rank as Nature's nobility. We have seen a tabby with a black muzzle -who, for cold, calculated, and yet perfectly well-bred insolence, could have given points to a spiteful Dowager Duchess whose daughter-in-law "wasn't one of us, you know." The heartless and deliberate rudeness of that cat's behaviour on occasion would, had she been a man, have unquestionably justified shooting at sight. The courtiers in the most slavish palace of the East would have rebelled had they received the treat- ment she meted out daily to those who waited on her hand and foot. After a devoted admirer had hunted breathless and bare-headed over a large garden, and under a blazing July sun, lest puss should lose her dinner, and had at last brought her into the dining-room in his arms, that cat, instead of showing any gratitude, and instead of running with pleasure to the plate prepared for her, has been known to sit bolt up- right at the other end of the room, regarding the whole table with a look of undisguised contempt, her eyes superciliously half-shut, and a tiny speck of red tongue protruding between her teeth. If the thing had not been so exceedingly well done, it would have been simply vulgar : as it was, it amounted to the most exasperating form of genteel brutality imaginable. The company having been at last thoroughly stared out of countenance and put down by this monstrous exhibition of intentional rudeness, the eat in question slowly rose to her feet, and digging her claws well into the carpet, stretched and balanced herself, while yawning at the same time with lazy self-satisfaction. After this she proceeded by the most circuitous route obtainable to the plate put out for her, evidently intending it to be clearly understood that she held its presence under the sideboard to be due in some way or other to her own skill and forethought, and that she in no sense regarded herself as beholden to any other person. Yet another instance of the freezing and offensive dignity which cats are capable of exhibiting, occurs to us. We remember to have seen a distinguished diplomatist, trained to hold his own in the Courts of Kings, and never at a loss to get out of an embarrassing position, or to meet an act of rudeness by a rapier thrust of wit, utterly put down by a small black kitten. The diplomatist had been playing with the kitten, but he went too far. Instead of making fun for the kitten, he made fun of her, and this she was quick to see and to resent. Determined to mark her sense of his conduct, she at once put a stop to the game, and calmly but resolutely placed her small person in front of the man of ceremony, wrapped her tail neatly round her toes, and gazed at him with an air of pitying contempt. It was an electric moment, and the rest of the company watched with palpitating eagerness the struggle for ascendency. It proved, however, an unequal contest. After a few moments of a regard which told more of sorrow than of anger, the kitten deliberately began to wash her little black face, stopping every now and then, paw in air, to give a look of faint sur- prise, mingled with disgust, at her antagonist. The situation speedily became ridiculous, but not for the kitten, and in a very short time the diplomatist had evidently admitted him- self beaten. The kitten then rose, walked to the window, and placidly gazed out at the landscape, every curve in her back showing her sense of the bad taste which had characterised the incident that had just terminated.
But though we are perfectly prepared to admit that the cat is a very dignified animal, and often compares favourably with man in that respect, we desire to draw attention on the present occasion to the humorous situations of which the cat is often the unconscious cause, owing in a great measure to her un- bounded egoism. If a cat is watched carefully in the ordinary relations of domestic life, a thousand instances will be noticed in which the results of her action are exceedingly humorous. Granted that the cat has herself little or no sense of humour, she is capable, when properly understood, of affording intense amusement to others. To realise this fact is a great source of pleasure—nay, of security. It is, indeed, hardly too much to say that unless some means are discovered for taking her down a peg or two every now and then, a cat is an impossible beast to live with. Her pomposity, her formality, and her de haut en bas manner of looking at the world, would be un- bearable unless we knew how on occasion to turn the laugh against her. Only by enjoying an occasional score off "the furred serpent" can the balance be redressed, and a comfort- able modus vivendi between man and cat be arranged. An instance of what we mean is given in a charming paper on Theophile Gautier contributed by Mr. Walter Pollock to this month's Longman. Theophile Gautier loved cats, but he had evidently discovered the necessity for poking a little fun at them in self-defence, and for this purpose among others he watched his famous cat, 'Madame Theophile,' very closely. Mr. Walter Pollock presents us with a delightful account of how 'Madame Theophile' one day gave herself away, and established an excellent story to be used against her in case of need. Gautier had been entrusted by a friend with the care of a parrot, and his cat's first introduction to the new member of the menagerie intime took place under his eyes. The parrot described as "an Amazon," a little distracted by his new surroundings, was standing on the high perch, to which he was chained, rolling his eyes and looking about him. Meanwhile, Madame Theophile,' who had never seen a parrot before, regarded the new-comer with evident astonishment. "Immovable as a mummied Egyptian cat, she looked, lost in thought, at the bird, recalling all the ideas on natural history which she had gathered in the garden and on the roof-trees. Her shifting eyes alone conveyed her thoughts ; and these thoughts were : "Then here is a green chicken." Satisfied that he was a proper subject for sport, she sprang from the table whence she had been contemplating him, and began to crouch in readiness for her spring. "The parrot followed the cat's movements with a feverish eagerness. He ruffled his feathers, he rattled his chain, he lifted one of his hands and examined its nails attentively, and he scrabbled his beak on the edge of his food-can. Instinct bade him beware of an enemy on his track." The cat's eyes all the time remained fixed, and said plainly enough : "This fowl is green; but all the same it must be good to eat." Gautier, ready of course to intervene if necessary, watched Madame Theophi]e 'drawing nearer and nearer, while all the time "her pink nose palpitated, her eyes half-closed, and her claws, like the feet immortalised by Suckling, went in and. out." Suddenly she arched her back, and with a bound leapt to the foot of the parrot's stand. "The parrot met the danger half-way, and received the cat with a phrase delivered in a pompous bass voice, As-tu dejeune, Jacqttot ?' This phrase filled the cat with an indescribable terror, and caused her to leap backwards. A flourish of trumpets, an earthquake of broken crockery, a pistol discharged by its ear, could not have caused the cat a more headlong alarm. All the creature's. ideas on ornithology were completely upset." The parrot continued its triumphant speech with the words, "Et de quoi De nig du roi ?" Then the cat's face said as plainly as possible : "This is no bird. This is a gentleman. Listen to his conversation." The parrot, pursuing his advan- tage, burst at the top of his voice into the refrain of a drinking-song. On this the cat cast one desperate look of interrogation upon Gautier, and fled in despair under the bed, where she remained for all the rest of the day." Who. can doubt that Gautier felt considerable satisfaction at the discomfiture and undignified retreat of the Donna Pomposa of his household? Every cat-owner must recall incidents like this in his experience which in a moment have made up for the many humiliations suffered at the hands of his cat, —humilia- tions received as he stood patiently while puss made an aggravatingly complete periplus of the room before she would deign to walk out of the door, specially opened at her request; or as he fumed on the front doorstep, on a raw November night, trying to induce the priestess of the hearthrug to enter her abode, at his and not her own good time and pleasure.
So much for the cat as a cause of humour, when seen from the man's point of view. We must not forget, however,. that there is another side to the question,—one which has been put with great force and point by Montaigne._ "When," says he, "my cat and I entertain each other with mutual apish tricks, as playing with a garter, who knows but that I make my cat more sport than she makes me ? Shall I conclude her to be a simple [i.e., a fool], that has her time to begin or refuse to play as freely as I myself have. Nay, who- knows but that it is a defect of my not understanding her language (for doubtless cats talk and reason with one anotherl that we agree no better? And who knows but that she pities. me for being no wiser than to play with her, and laughs and censures my folly for making sport for her, when we two play together." Perhaps, too, it is the cat that has the beat of the laugh, even when we dub her an unconscious humorist. It. would be just like her " subtlety " to be all the while laughing in her sleeve.
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