I was heartily glad to return to Boston, and I made up my mind I would let cats and all the animals I could reach know that they had not met the true philanthropists, but the shams that take up every new cause and dishonor it. For there are many earnest, true philanthropists who spend money and publish nice tracts in behalf of animals, and thus, in a measure, the tracts "do feed" animals; for they open the eyes of those who perhaps have never thought of the matter earnestly. I determined, after my visit to Beverly, to write this book to help my unfortunate race. VII CAT MEMORIES Our new room, a very large alcove, was pleasant and comfortable. The people who owned the house were school-teachers, refined, and the atmosphere was congenial to us all. I loved to watch my friend's busy fingers and follow Miss Milly's pen, as she wrote for hours at her desk. I loved to walk over the fresh writing and flirt my tail over the ink-bottle. That would make her stop and scold me, then pet me till I was willing she should return to her work. The eyes of affection are sharp. I saw with pain that they were obliged often to lie down, after a long spell of work, but they never complained. Mrs. Knight came often to see us, but I did not see Stacy for a long time. He was busy with his studies at Harvard, but he sent me kind messages, and I knew he loved me. Our boys were not with us, and I had no young company; but then, I was happy for I could see and hear from our young friends frequently. I always greeted dear Mrs. Knight with delight. She had a camel's hair shawl she used to roll me in, when we lived in her house, and I loved to claw it and pull the wool out of it. I wondered she did not wear it, but then, I suppose, it was old fashioned. She told me that her cat Solomon was very fond of it, and she allowed him to sleep on the lounge with that shawl under him. I felt a little jealous of Solomon, but I doubt if they ever love another cat as well as they love me. They said Solomon had no associates, though they lived on the swell avenue. The cats belonging there were only tolerated one-half the year. The cats that were not boarded out were left to become tramps. Of course these cats were very immoral, and they did not think it would improve Solomon to be friendly with them. I did smile when Mrs. Knight said, "Daisy is such a perfect cat, we hold him up as a model for Solomon." I wondered how Sol would like that, for he told me he did not like being kept in. He guessed he could take care of his morals; the society cats could not hurt him. One day he proved himself not so wise as his name would indicate. He fell out of the third story window. When they gathered around him, thinking he would have to be chloroformed, he got up, shook himself, and lived. He told me very sad tales of the cats living in that vicinity. "Would you not think," he said, "that in these palatial houses there would be room for one cat?"