eat bundle of stuff from the docks had reached the country mansion.
What it contained was of little moment, but it was rich with a score of
the most piquant and winsome of dock and slum smells. The chords of
memory surely dwell in the nose, and Pussy's past was conjured up with
dangerous force. Next day the cook 'left' through some trouble over
this very bundle. It was the cutting of cables, and that evening the
youngest boy of the house, a horrid little American with no proper
appreciation of royalty, was tying a tin to the blue-blooded one's
tail, doubtless in furtherance of some altruistic project, when Pussy
resented the liberty with a paw that wore five big fish-hooks for the
occasion. The howl of downtrodden America roused America's mother. The
deft and womanly blow that she aimed with her book was miraculously
avoided, and Pussy took flight, up-stairs, of course. A hunted Rat runs
down-stairs, a hunted Dog goes on the level, a hunted Cat runs up. She
hid in the garret, baffled discovery, and waited till night came. Then,
gliding down-stairs, she tried each screen-door in turn, till she found
one unlatched, and escaped into the black August night. Pitch-black to
man's eyes, it was simply gray to her, and she glided through the
disgusting shrubbery and flower-beds, took a final nip at that one
little bush that had been an attractive spot in the garden, and boldly
took her back track of the spring.

How could she take a back track that she never saw? There is in all
animals some sense of direction. It is very low in man and very high in
Horses, but Cats have a large gift, and this mysterious guide took her
westward, not clearly and definitely, but with a general impulse that
was made definite simply because the road was easy to travel. In an
hour she had covered two miles and reached the Hudson River. Her nose
had told her many times that the course was true. Smell after smell
came back, just as a man after walking a mile in a strange street may
not recall a single feature, but will remember, on seeing it again,
"Why, yes, I saw that before." So Kitty's main guide was the sense of
direction, but it was her nose that kept reassuring her, "Yes, now you
are right--we passed this place last spring."

At the river was the railroad. She could not go on the water; she must
go north or south. This was a case where her sense of direction was
clear; it said, "Go south," and Kitty trotted down the foot-path
between the iron r