“He was imprisoned often; once in a cold and narrow tower where he had neither bed to lie on, nor clothes sufficient to warm him, nor meat for his mouth. He had starved there, had not God, who sent a crow to feed his prophet, sent this his and his country’s martyr a cat both to feed and warm him. It was his own relation unto them from whom I had it. A cat came one day down into the dungeon unto him, and, as it were, offered herself to him. He was glad of her, laid her in his bosom to warm him, and by making much of her won her love. After this she would come every day unto him divers times, and, when she could get one, would bring him a pigeon. He complained to his keeper of his cold and short fare. The answer was ‘he durst not do it better.’ ‘But,’ said Sir Henry, ‘if I can provide any, will you promise to dress it for me?’ ‘I may well enough,’ said the keeper, ‘you are safe for that matter’; and being urged again, promised him, and kept his promise, dressed for him from time to time such pigeons as his caterer, the cat, provided for him. Sir Henry, in his prosperity, for this would ever make much of cats, as other men will of spaniels or hounds; and perhaps you shall not find his picture anywhere but--like Sir Christopher Hatton with his dog--with a cat beside him.” It is a charming, bright little story for those dark days. A reverse story to that of Sir Henry Wyatt belongs to our own days; the story of a nameless cat saved from starvation by Henry Bergh. Many have been the deeds of heroism in the world, many have been the medals awarded for such deeds; but when all are duly weighed in the balance this deed too shall have its reward of fame. [Illustration: THE TWO-LEGGED CAT THAT BELONGED TO DR. HILL OF PRINCETON COLLEGE.] A kitten had been walled up by the workmen, in an iron girder at the base of a building, and the walls had been laid to the second story, when Mr. Bergh heard what had happened. First, he pleaded for the innocent victim, but without avail; then, appealing to the law, he compelled the walls to be taken down, and thus Pussy at last was removed from what--without his interference--would have proved her living grave. It is worth recording in this connection that a few years ago the Albert Medal was presented to a seaman who rescued various lives from a sinking ship. The last one saved was the ship’s cat--the brave sailor crying as he swung her into the boat: “Life before property!”