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THE CAT<br />
Oliver<br />
A long series of <strong>cat</strong>s has reigned over my<br />
household for <strong>the</strong> last forty years or <strong>the</strong>reabouts.<br />
The present occupant of <strong>the</strong> throne is a large,<br />
young, grey Tabby,— Oliver by name. Not that<br />
he is in any sense a Protector, for I doubt whe<strong>the</strong>r<br />
he has <strong>the</strong> heart to kill a mouse. However, I saw<br />
him <strong>cat</strong>ch and eat <strong>the</strong> first butterfly of <strong>the</strong> season,<br />
and trust that <strong>the</strong> germ of courage, thus mani-<br />
fested, may develop with age into efficient mousing.<br />
As to sagacity, I should say that his judgment<br />
respecting <strong>the</strong> warmest place and <strong>the</strong> softest<br />
cushion in a room is infallible, his punctuality at<br />
meal times is admirable, and his pertinacity in<br />
jumping on people's shoulders till <strong>the</strong>y give him<br />
some of <strong>the</strong> best of what is going, indi<strong>cat</strong>es great<br />
firmness.<br />
Thomas Huxley to Mr. J. G. Kitton.<br />
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