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Letters from a Cat
·
Helen Hunt Jackson
5
The
professors'
families
all
sat
together;
and
when
the
time
came
for
them
to
walk
out
of
the
house
and
get
into
the
carriages
to
go
to
the
graveyard,
they
were
called,
one
after
the
other,
by
name.
When
it
came
to
our
turn,
my
father
and
mother
went
first,
arm-in-arm;
then
my
sister
and
I;
and
then,
who
should
rise,
very
gravely,
but
my
Pussy,
who
had
slipped
into
the
room
after
me,
and
had
not
been
noticed
in
the
crowd.
With
a
slow
and
deliberate
gait
she
walked
along,
directly
behind
my
sister
and
me,
as
if
she
were
the
remaining
member
of
the
family,
as
indeed
she
was.
People
began
to
smile,
and
as
we
passed
through
the
front
door,
and
went
down
the
steps,
some
of
the
men
and
boys
standing
there
laughed
out.
I
do
not
wonder;
for
it
must
have
been
a
very
comical
sight.
In
a
second
more,
somebody
sprang
forward
and
snatched
Pussy
up.
Such
a
scream
as
she
gave!
and
scratched
his
face
with
her
claws,
so
that
he
was
glad
to
put
her
down.
As
soon
as
I
heard
her
voice
I
turned
round,
and
called
her
in
a
low
tone.
She
ran
quickly
to
me,
and
I
picked
her
up
and
carried
her
in
my
arms
the
rest
of
the
way.
But
I
saw
even
my
own
papa
and
mamma
laughing
a
little,
for
just
a
minute.
That
was
the
only
funeral
Pussy
ever
attended.
Pussy
lived
several
years
after
the
events
which
are
related
in
these
letters.
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