owed her affection in a surprising manner. Each morning she
came into our room with a tidbit, such as she was sure was toothsome:
Mice, rats, at one time a half-grown rabbit, and, at length, a bird.

It was warm weather, the room windows were open, and being upon the
first floor, when Friskie brought in her offerings they were seized and
thrown from the window to the ground. At this she would spring after the
delicacy and bring it back in a hurry, determined that it should be
eaten, mewing and coaxing just as she might with her kittens. That the
food was not accepted evidently distressed her. When she came with the
little bird, she uttered her usual coaxing sound, and then, when it was
unheeded, she sprung upon the bed and was about to give it to the
invalid, who uttered a scream of fright. At this dear Friskie fled from
the room and, we think, she never brought another treat. It was useless
to try to treat a person so unappreciative.

At one time, when Friskie was the proud mother of four pretty kittens,
she was greatly troubled with the liberties that young Herbert, aged
three, took with her family. The little boy didn't want to hurt the tiny
creatures, but he would hold them and play with them.

Mother cat bore this for a time, and then carried the kittens away to
the barn, and hid them where no one but herself could find them.

While these babies were yet young Herbert was taken away for a visit.
Strange to say, that upon the morning of the child's departure Friskie
came leading the little ones down to the house. They could walk now, and
at first she came part of the distance with three of them, stopped,
surveyed her group and went back for the remaining kitten. All we have
told is strictly true; it was evident that the cat knew when the
disturber of her peace was gone, and also evident that she knew how many
were her children.

Friskie died at the age of twelve, the most lovable and intelligent cat
we have ever known.

Of late we have had two maltese cats in our kitchen, one old, the other
young. The old cat has been jealous and cross with the young one, while
the young cat has been kind and pleasant with her companion. One day the
young cat, Friskie's namesake, sat and meowed piteously. We were
present, and for a time did not notice her, for she is very
demonstrative. What was our surprise to see her go to a low closet in
the room and lie down, stretch her paws over her head, and by an effort
pull open the d