Daisy: the autobiography of a catSwan, Miranda Eliot
General
Daisy: the autobiography of a cat
Swan, Miranda Eliot
Cats -- Fiction
"He was a profane man, and they said the air was blue with the language
he used. Doctor L., his great friend and physician, chanced to be near.
He said, 'My dear friend, you must not get so excited; you will have
apoplexy. You will never be able to use your hands again if they are not
attended to at once.'
"In his anxiety to end my mother's sufferings, he had held the basket
down with both hands, never thinking of his burned hands or the pain.
"'No matter,' he answered, as he glared around on all the people
assembled; 'I do not need to write, to demolish all your hopes.' And he
looked at the boys with hatred. 'I have but to serve a few papers as you
have these poor creatures, and the money you have looked upon as your
own goes to charity.--'Not one cent,' he said, while the veins in his
forehead swelled up like cords, with the anguish he was suffering,
'shall ever go to one of you, for you were all in the secret, though all
may not yet have reached the fearful state of cruelty of your
ringleader. Call John,' he said, and when his faithful servant came, he
gave him his orders, then said, 'Now, Doctor, get your things ready; you
can torture me as soon as John returns.'
"An easy-chair, table, and the lotions and bandages ordered by Doctor L.
were brought out, as the patient refused to move from the spot till his
work was completed.
"Soon John appeared with a small iron box in his arms, taken from the
safe. His master's eyes brightened when he saw him, for he was suffering
great pain.
"'Now, John, take my keys from my pocket and open that box. Jane,' he
said, addressing his sister, who stood by his side, anxiety for him
expressed in her face, 'take from that box the package marked "My last
will and testament." Now, John, clear a space, then burn every inch of
that paper in the presence of these murderers and their abettors; for it
is a cruel murder, and Tige shall be avenged.'
"It was done, and no one dared interfere, though some of them knew they
were seeing the hopes of years fade away and perish in that heap of
ashes.
"'Now,' he said to the doctor, 'dress my burns. I am satisfied.' Just
then I mewed, and he exclaimed, 'Poor little orphan! Take him out of my
pocket, Jane; he shall have such tender care that this dreadful scene
may be forgotten.'
"The sister took me out of his pocket very tenderly, and I clung to her,
while she stood by her brother and tried to help him bear the suffering
caused by the dressing of his wounds. The pain was fearful, but he said
it was a pleasure to bear it, knowing that he had spared poor Tige and
her kittens by ending their suffering at once.
"When the basket was taken out, my poor mother was found, her fur singed
off, while one side of her was completely roasted. My little brothers
and sister were just singed, for their mother had tried to cover them
with her body. The water had ended their lives at once. I did not see
them, but I heard the people describe the horrible sight.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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