a mournful
adieu. I was affected by their gestures, and should have been more so,
but that I was still in sight of my neighbours' dwellings, and was
apprehensive of some disagreeable remarks. Fortunately none of them were
visible. I passed their houses; I got out of the very street, but not
till I had stopped at the corner and given a quiet mew to the villa
where I had spent so many pleasant days, and which I was now leaving
perhaps for ever. We moved on through the Cats' quarter, across one or
two streets inhabited by the Dogs, and out into the open country. We
soon left behind us the few straggling houses which were at the entrance
of the town, and, mounting a hill, paused when we had gained the summit,
partly to give a last look at the city, but more to rest my companion,
who declared that his legs would never get straight again from the heavy
burden which had bent them down, and that the rope with which the box
was tied was positively cutting his head in two.

I reclined upon a grassy bank, and nibbled a few blades while deep in
thought; but my valet, "Snub," made a more substantial use of his time;
for, squatting himself down on his own hat, with his legs under him, to
my horror he pulled out a half-devoured bone, which he began to gnaw
with much appetite. I did not think this very becoming conduct in the
valet of a genteel Pussy; but as it was not the time to find fault,
I allowed him to pick his bone, and gazed long and tenderly upon that
city where I had been born and brought up, and which I was now leaving
for strange climes, and for the society of animals of whose very
language I was perhaps ignorant.

We now descended the hill, Snub carrying the box with a little more
comfort to himself, having placed his hat between the sharp cord and
his own broad, flat head; and on reaching the bottom we found that an
extensive wood lay before us, without any trace which seemed to show
there was a high-road through it. While stopping to consult what was the
best course to take, an animal came from behind a large tree, and with
many bows advanced towards us. His appearance startled me not a little,
for I could not at first make out who or what he was. I at length
discovered that he was a Fox, a tribe distantly related to the Dogs, but
so little liked by them that very few ever came into Caneville, and
those who did so, clipped their ears and trimmed their tails so as to
alter their look as much as possible to the animals a