ld be said, "was very dear both to Dickens and his eldest daughter,"
and he has been immortalized in Forster's _Life_. There is a very
humorous account given of the attacks which the cats in the
neighbourhood made upon him, and which were frustrated by an organized
defence. The following is the passage:--

"Soon after the arrival of Dickens and his family at Gad's Hill Place, a
household war broke out, in which the commander-in-chief was his man
French, the bulk of the forces engaged being his children, and the
invaders two cats." Writing to Forster, Dickens says:--"'The only thing
new in this garden is that war is raging against two particularly
tigerish and fearful cats (from the mill, I suppose), which are always
glaring in dark corners after our wonderful little Dick. Keeping the
house open at all points, it is impossible to shut them out, and they
hide themselves in the most terrific manner: hanging themselves up
behind draperies, like bats, and tumbling out in the dead of night with
frightful caterwaulings. Hereupon French borrows Beaucourt's gun, loads
the same to the muzzle, discharges it twice in vain, and throws himself
over with the recoil, exactly like a clown. . . . About four pounds of
powder and half a ton of shot have been fired off at the cat (and the
public in general) during the week. The funniest thing is, that
immediately after I have heard the noble sportsman blazing away at her
in the garden in front, I look out of my room door into the
drawing-room, and am pretty sure to see her coming in after the birds,
in the calmest manner possible, by the back window.'"

Passing on our way the large and well-lighted servants' hall, over which
is the bachelors' room,--whence in days gone by that rare literary
serial, _The Gad's Hill Gazette_,[13] issued from a little printing
press, presented by a friend to the sixth son of the novelist, who
encouraged his boy's literary tastes,--we next see the stables, as
usual, like everything else, in excellent order. A small statue of Fame
blowing her golden trumpet surmounts the bachelors' room, and looks down
upon us encouragingly.

Our attention is then turned to the well, which is stated to be two
hundred and seventeen feet deep, in the shed, or pumping-room, over
which is the Major's mare, "Tell-tale," cheerfully doing her daily
twenty minutes' task of drawing water, which is pumped up to the cistern
on the roof for the supply of the house. There is said to be nev