ith frightful rapidity. The first night he stopped out
till eleven, the second night he never came home at all, the third night
he came home at six o'clock in the morning, minus half the fur on the top
of his head. Of course, there was a lady in the case, indeed, judging by
the riot that went on all night, I am inclined to think there must have
been a dozen. He was certainly a fine cat, and they took to calling for
him in the day time. Then gentleman cats who had been wronged took to
calling also, and demanding explanations, which Thomas Henry, to do him
justice, was always ready to accord.

The village boys used to loiter round all day to watch the fights, and
angry housewives would be constantly charging into our kitchen to fling
dead cats upon the table, and appeal to Heaven and myself for justice.
Our kitchen became a veritable cat's morgue, and I had to purchase a new
kitchen table. The cook said it would make her work simpler if she could
keep a table entirely to herself. She said it quite confused her, having
so many dead cats lying round among her joints and vegetables: she was
afraid of making a mistake. Accordingly, the old table was placed under
the window, and devoted to the cats; and, after that, she would never
allow anyone to bring a cat, however dead, to her table.

"What do you want me to do with it," I heard her asking an excited lady
on one occasion; "cook it?"

"It's my cat," said the lady; "that's what that is."

"Well, I'm not making cat pie to-day," answered our cook. "You take it
to its proper table. This is my table."

At first, "Justice" was generally satisfied with half a crown, but as
time went on cats rose. I had hitherto regarded cats as a cheap
commodity, and I became surprised at the value attached to them. I began
to think seriously of breeding cats as an industry. At the prices
current in that village, I could have made an income of thousands.

"Look what your beast has done," said one irate female, to whom I had
been called out in the middle of dinner.

I looked. Thomas Henry appeared to have "done" a mangy, emaciated
animal, that must have been far happier dead than alive. Had the poor
creature been mine I should have thanked him; but some people never know
when they are well off.

"I wouldn't ha' taken a five-pun' note for that cat," said the lady.

"It's a matter of opinion," I replied, "but personally I think you would
have been unwise to refuse it. Taking t