Now the back of the houses on our street faced the back of the houses on the next street, with a long alley between. At the windows of the opposite houses there were young men who were interested spectators of this little by-play. Very soon they were not content to be only lookers-on; they wanted to take part, and soon they appeared with knives, and then a fearful scraping was heard, and the cries of "Daisy, Daisy" resounded through the alley. I never turned my head or let them know that I noticed them, for I was very much ashamed of the sensation I had caused, and I crawled home, crestfallen enough, to meet the reproachful glances of my dear friends. They had not dared to appear on the scene. After that I went home without being called. I was more provoked because these were the very young men who had thrown bottles, old boots, and bootjacks at the cats that assemble nightly to talk over their trials and give an open-air concert occasionally. Were these young men asleep as they ought to be, not just returning at midnight from some junket, they would be willing to believe in the doctrine of "live and let live." These cats have no homes, no nice beds, and often they have empty stomachs; and if they console themselves with a social meeting, and end in a musicale, who can blame them? They certainly do not have empty bottles to dispose of after their meetings, as these young people do; and there is no uncertain _note_ in _their_ voices when they let it swell out on the midnight air. If it reaches a high C, it is not a "high seas over," as the young men's voices often indicate. Another proof of the superiority of the animal over the human race. A cat may often be sitting on a beer barrel, but there _never_ was a cat known to have the contents of one inside. There are many shams in the world that cats would scorn to practise. Now I am, perhaps, about to shock some people by airing my opinion on "family worship." I can hear you say, "How irreverent!" Not at all. Just please read the many so-called bright speeches of children in the newspapers, where they hob-nob with their Maker just as if he were a boon companion. I have heard my mistress quote, "Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain." I never have, and it makes me shudder to hear children so flippant with the sacred name. And I will never believe that cats or dogs could be taught (even if they had the gift of speech) to be profane, as the poor parrot is. They have an evil eye, and may not be to blame. One year we boarded in a real country farmhouse,--at least, the master was a farmer; but the family were trying to find some more genteel name for the business and the place that had so long supported them. It was a nice, old, rambling house, with quaint little nooks and angles where I could hide. The kitchen was very large and low, and the outbuildings so ample that I often lost myself.