Her family rose
an hour or two earlier than ours in the morning, and their breakfast
hour came first. I should attribute Thomas's devotion to Mrs. T. to this
fact, since he invariably presented himself at her dining-room window
and wheedled her into feeding him, were it not that his affection seemed
just as strong throughout the day. It was interesting to see him go over
and rattle her screen doors, front, back, or side, knowing perfectly
well that he would bring some one to open and let him in.
Thomas has a really paternal air toward the rest of the family. One
spring night, as usual on retiring, I went to the back door to call in
the cats. Thomas Erastus was in my sister's room, but none of the others
were to be seen; nor did they come at once, evidently having strayed in
their play beyond the sound of my voice. Thomas, upstairs, heard my
continued call and tried for some time to get out. M. had shut her door,
thinking to keep in the one already safe. But the more I called, the
more persistently determined he became to get out. At last M. opened her
window and let him on to the sloping roof of the "L," from which he
could descend through a gnarled old apple tree. Meanwhile I left the
back door and went on with my preparations for the night. About ten
minutes later I went and called the cats again. It was a moonlight night
and I saw six delinquent cats coming in a flock across the open field
behind the house,--all marshalled by Mr.
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