After this, though Topsy never cared for me, she treated me like a poor relation, offering me all the tough pieces of meat and bones; but she could never see me near Miss Milly without trouble. We lived very happily in this nice house for one year. No one had cared for me, and I had settled down like one of the family, and soon my place was assured, for one day Topsy was missing. Everything was done to find her. Rewards were offered, and, for months, Miss Milly never gave her up, and it made her so ill that no one ever dared mention Topsy to her. I did pity them all, for they loved her dearly, but to Miss Milly it was like losing a child. She was always very kind to me, but she never was known to pet another cat till you were born. And I do think, Daisy, you can win her love, and in a measure console her for Topsy's loss. It was a great mystery, her disappearance, for they never got one trace of her. One thing was very sure; she was stolen, for she never would have left of her own accord. Some one suggested that, being a "Salem" cat, she had gone home to the "witches," as all black cats are said to belong to them. I missed her, but was very happy to be the only pet in the house. I had many kittens, and they were treated kindly, and mercifully disposed of. One was always kept till I could wean it, and then a good home was found for it. You were promised to a friend, but it was very fortunate for you that their delay in sending gave you such a hold upon the affections of these nice people that they decided not to give you away. This pleased the boys, as they did not care to lose their dear little playmate. Miss Milly said, "Daisy shall be mine." Great changes have come to this home. We have moved twice, and the good Bridget they could no longer afford to keep. We are now about to move again. I know they will provide for me, but I like this nice neighborhood, and the musicales on the back shed. The Bohemian blood in my veins I cannot ignore. The trouble I have passed through makes excitement necessary, and I put my whole heart into the fierce fights, and enjoy them. Why not? I know people say, "_Cats!_ awful fighting creatures!" Well, but where are the bull-fights, in which man and beast shed each other's gore and men and women look on? Dressed in their laces and diamonds, they applaud while rivers of blood flow from the poor wounded victim. The genteel cock-fights, and hunting down one poor little fox by a pack of hounds! If we are cruel, we learn it of human beings. I do wish I could be satisfied with a quiet life, but it is too late to reform, and I shall meet my fate here. I will not go with them. You, my dear child, will be the loved one to comfort them. And I charge you to profit by your mother's experience, and you will be a fortunate cat. * * * * * This is my mother's story as I heard it from her lips.