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Letters from a Cat
·
Helen Hunt Jackson
4
If
I
called
her,
she
would
come
out
from
under
the
bed;
but
if
I
left
the
room,
and
went
down
stairs
without
speaking,
in
less
than
a
minute
she
would
fly
back
to
her
post
at
the
head
of
the
stairs,
and
call
again
with
the
peculiar
mew.
As
soon
as
I
appeared,
off
she
would
run,
and
hide
under
the
bed
as
before.
Sometimes
she
would
do
this
three
or
four
times;
and
it
was
a
favorite
amusement
of
my
mother's
to
exhibit
this
trick
of
hers
to
strangers.
It
was
odd,
though;
she
never
would
do
it
twice,
when
she
observed
that
other
people
were
watching.
When
I
called
her,
and
she
came
out
from
under
the
bed,
if
there
were
strangers
looking
on,
she
would
walk
straight
to
me
in
the
demurest
manner,
as
if
it
were
a
pure
accident
that
she
happened
to
be
under
that
bed;
and
no
matter
what
I
did
or
said,
her
frolic
was
over
for
that
day.
She
used
to
follow
me,
just
like
a
little
dog,
wherever
I
went.
She
followed
me
to
school
every
day,
and
we
had
great
difficulty
on
Sundays
to
keep
her
from
following
us
to
church.
Once
she
followed
me,
when
it
made
a
good
many
people
laugh,
in
spite
of
themselves,
on
an
occasion
when
it
was
very
improper
for
them
to
laugh,
and
they
were
all
feeling
very
sad.
It
was
at
the
funeral
of
one
of
the
professors
in
the
college.
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