“I am not strong on cat,” was the reply. “Like Lord Roberts, I detest the whole tribe. Away back in the origin of species I must have an affinity with either the cat’s mortal enemy, or its prey. But, as a guess, I should credit puss with remarking that he, or she, is waiting in the gy-arden ne-ow. ‘It’s a fine ne-ight; oh, won’t ye-ou come over the we-all,’ is my version.” Your true American can do that sort of thing and preserve the face of a sphinx. His natural drawl lent an adroit buffoonery to his joke. He had not the least notion that his friend was speaking in earnest. But he pricked his ears, metaphorically, when Grier said, beginning in a low monotone, but ending excitedly: “You are mistaken. That cat is using a chant of defiance. It is old as the hills, the product of the wind-mutterings of storm and the crash of thunder. Listen: Who art thou who seest with fire, snake-creeping among the bushes? Think not thou art hidden. I also have eyes of flame. Beware! I am young and strong; I can bite and tear. I spring far to conquest. My claws are sharp. Fly, ere I rend thee! Comest thou yet? Kill then, kill!” As the concluding words rang through the room there came from without the spitting and snarling of a pair of frenzied cats. There was a rush and a scurry, and all was still. The American leaped to his feet with a somewhat hysterical laugh. “Say, Grier,” he cried, “that’s one against me. But how, in the name of the father of all cats, did you manage to wind up your epic of the Tertiary Period at the exact moment the fur began to fly?” “Sit down, please. I am translating freely, but accurately enough. Animals contrive to enfold many parts of speech in a single sound.” “Do you mean to tell me you _understood_ that cat’s mewing?” “I--I think so.” “Your thinking is uncommonly realistic.” “Try to credit me, Hooper. I am not romancing. Somewhere at the back of my head I have a language code which explains these things. If Max Müller can declare with conviction that every thought which ever passed through a human brain may be expressed in one hundred and twenty-one radical concepts, if the earth and the heavens can be composed of sixty chemical substances, surely it is not outrageously impossible for a lower animal organism to contrive a large vocabulary out of a few elementary sounds?” Hooper produced a cigar. “This requires profound smoke,” he said. “I want help,” murmured Karl. “Criticize and question as much as you like, but scoffing will serve no purpose.” “The deuce a scoff. I am far too interested. To begin at the beginning: What is the cat, or cattish, for ‘seeing with fire,’ and ‘snake-creeping,’ both exceedingly apt phrases, by the way?”