Excerpt: ...happy howl of recognition must have met him somewhere in the air. Andy hugged the ecstatically purring bundle to his breast as if it were a long-lost child, telling us between nuzzles into the arched furry back that this was “Tommy” (that was his name, of course), with whom he had spent two winters alone in his trapper’s cabin. It was hard to tell which was the more delighted over this unexpected reunion, man or cat. He had little difficulty in accounting for “Tommy’s” presence at Boyd’s. He had given the cat to Wilcox a season or two back, and Wilcox, when he left for California, had given him to “Wild Bill,” who had a cabin ten miles farther down the river. “Bill” already had a brother of “Tommy,” but a cat Pg 184 of much less character. As “Bill” was much given to periodic sprees, Andy was satisfied that “Tommy,” who was a great sizer-up of personality, had left him in disgust and returned to his former deserted home to shift for himself. As he would pull down rabbits as readily as an ordinary cat caught mice, this was an easy matter as long as the snow did not get too deep. Of what might happen after that Andy did not like to think. He would have to make some provision for his pet before full winter set in. That evening we sat around the kitchen fire, telling all the cat stories we knew and quarrelling over whose turn it was to hold “Tommy” and put him through his tricks. The latter were of considerable variety. There was all the usual “sit-up,” “jump-through” and “roll-over” stuff, but with such “variations” as only a trapper, snow-bound for days with nothing else to do, would have the time to conceive and perfect. For instance, if you only waved your hand in an airy spiral, “Tommy” would respond with no more than the conventional “once-over;” but a gentle...
Noch keine Bewertungen vorhanden
Verfassen Sie die erste Bewertung zu diesem Artikel
Helfen Sie anderen Kundinnen und Kunden durch Ihre Meinung.