uld not fail of making some noise. His house was every day
crowded, and great interruption given to his business. Among the rest,
he was visited by an exhibitor of wonders. Pinchbeck advised him to a
public exhibition of his animals at the Haymarket, and even promised, on
receiving a moiety, to be concerned in the exhibition. Bisset agreed,
but the day before the performance, Pinchbeck declined, and the other
was left to act for himself. The well-known _Cats' Opera_ was advertised
in the Haymarket; the horse, the dog, the monkeys, and the cats went
through their several parts with uncommon applause, to crowded houses,
and in a few days Bisset found himself possessed of nearly a thousand
pounds to reward his ingenuity."

CONSTANT, CHATEAUBRIAND, AND THE CAT.

"Benjamin Constant was accustomed to write in a closet on the third
story. Beside him sat his estimable wife, and on his knee his favourite
cat; this feline affection he entertained in common with Count de
Chateaubriand."[127]

LISTON THE SURGEON AND HIS CAT.

Robert Liston, the great surgeon, was, it seems, very fond of a cat. Dr
Forbes Winslow asks, "Who has not seen Liston's favourite cat Tom? This
animal is considered to be a unique specimen of the feline tribe; and so
one would think, to see the passionate fondness which he manifests for
it. This cat is always perched on Liston's shoulder, at breakfast,
dinner, and tea, in his carriage, and out of his carriage. It is quite
ludicrous to witness the devotion which the great operator exhibits
towards his favourite."[128]

Liston was a curious man. He often called on his friends as early as six
o'clock in the morning. In most cases, such calls must have been visits
of formality or quiet jokes at the lazy manners of most men of the
present age. We know one person whom he called on usually at this early
hour. It would be more healthy for the young, if they would imitate this
talented surgeon. We may here say that he used to allow one particular
nail to grow long. It was a nail he used to guide his knife when
operating. When at college in 1833 or 1834, we heard a student, who knew
this clever operator well, happily apply the _double-entendre_, "_homo
ad unguem factus_," a phrase, Dr Carson, our noble rector at the High
School, taught us to translate "_an accomplished man_."

THE BANKER MITCHELL'S ANTIPATHY TO KITTENS.

Mr J. T. Smith, once Keeper of the Prints in the British Museum, author
of the "Life a