Dumb animals would be all very well, no doubt, and I don't suppose I should have much objection to keeping one, but then where are you going to get 'em? That's what I want to know; I never come across anything dumber yet than old Job Cross's donkey, while that would shout sometimes awful, and rouse up the whole neighbourhood. No; I've got no faith in keeping dogs and cats, and birds and things in a house, and sets them all down as nuisances--sets my face against 'em regular, and so would any man who had been bothered as I have with cats. Pussy--pussy--pussy--pussy; puss--puss--puss. Oh, yes, it's all very fine. They're pretty creatures, ain't they? sleek and smooth, and furry and clean, and they'll come and rub up against you, and all so affectionate. Bother! why, they never do it unless they want to be fed, or rubbed, or warmed in the nice warm glow of the fire, or in somebody's lap. Why, see what savage little brutes they are to one another, and how they can spit and claw, and swear and growl, while their fur's all set up, their tail swelled out like a fox's, and their eyes round and bright enough to frighten you. No; I know what cats are--pretty dears. Who licks the top of the butter all over, and laps up the milk--eats my bloaters, steals mutton bones off the table, pretending to be asleep till you leave the room for a moment, when she's up on the table and tearing away like a savage at your dinner or supper? "Poor thing; it was only because it was hungry," says my wife. Perhaps it was, but then I didn't approve of it: so I gave the poor thing away. Now, I daresay, most men's wives have got some failings in them. I mean--ain't quite perfect. You see mine ain't, and though, I daresay, she's no worse than other women, yet, she has got one of the most tiresome, aggravating, worrying ways with her that any one could come across. I don't care whether its spring, summer, autumn, or winter, or whether it's all on 'em, or none on 'em, it's allus the same, and she's no sooner got her head on the pillow, than she's off like a top--sound as can be. 'Taint no good to speak--not a bit--you may just as well spare your breath, and almost the worst of it is, she mends wrong way, and gets sleepier and sleepier the longer she lives. But that's only "almost the worst" on it; not _the_ worst of it, for the worst of it is, that she will be so aggravating, and won't own to it. Say she can't help it; well, then, why don't she own it, and tell me so--not go sticking out, as she'd only jest shet her eyes, and was as wide awake as I was.