What shall I say of my tail, broad as a club, with
alternate rings of fawn-color and black, or of the sensitive, priceless
aigrettes which spring from my ears? My ear-rings She calls them....
What cat could resist me! Ah! the January nights, the serenades under a
frosty moon, the dignified wait on the pinnacle of a roof, the encounter
with a rival cat on the narrow top of a wall!... But I feel quite sure
of my superior strength. I'll swish my tail, put back my ears, sniff
tragically as one does before vomiting, and then lift up my voice--its
modulations are infinite. I'll make it strong enough to waken all the
sleeping Two-Paws. I'll vociferate, I'll whimper, pacing up and down the
garden, my body distended, my legs bent outward, feigning madness to
terrify the tom-cats!
TOBY-DOG
I know something of the changes and pleasures you foretell, Fire--for
I'm a Dog. Already, it is raining in the garden. I suppose it's raining
on the road too, and in the woods. The falling drops are not warm, as
they were in the summer storms when my truffle, gray with dust,
delighted in the damp smell that came from the west.
Pages:
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71