The Story of a China Cat

by Laura Lee Hope

  "At last I have time to breathe, but I am so dirty I do not know what to do," said the China Cat to herself. "I do not believe that any of the other toys that came from the workshop of Santa Claus ever had such an unpleasant adventure as I am having."

  But if the China Cat had only known it, the Lamb on Wheels, about whom one of these Make Believe books has been written, had an adventure almost as sad. The Lamb went down into a coal bin, which was a great deal blacker than the negro tenement.

  "I wonder what will happen to me next?" thought the China Cat, as she found herself perched on the kitchen shelf. She could look down and see Jeff, his brothers and his sisters, and his father and mother, eating supper. They did not offer the China Cat anything to eat, of course. Toys don't have to eat, which is very lucky sometimes.

  "Come now, chilluns! Off to bed wif yo' all!" called Jeff's mother, when supper was finished. "Yo' was up early, an' yo' mus' git to bed early."

  "Can't I play with my China Cat?" asked Jeff.

  "No, indeedy!" declared the colored woman, shaking her head. "Yo' leave dat cat alone, an' git to bed!"

  So to bed went Jeff and the other children. Their beds were down in the basement, in a room just off the kitchen. It was not a very nice home, but it was the best they could get.

  Soon it began to grow dark, but there was a street lamp that shone in one of the basement windows, so the China Cat, who could see pretty well in the dark anyhow, managed to look about her.

  On the same shelf where she sat, and not far away, was a little Cloth Dog.

  "Dear me!" said the China Cat, speaking out loud now, for there was no one in the kitchen, all the family having gone to bed. "Dear me, I didn't know you were here!"

  "Oh, yes, I'm here!" barked the Cloth Dog. "That is, what's left of me."

  He and the China Cat did not quarrel, though in real life very few dogs and cats are friends. But it is much different with toys.

  "Why, has anything happened to you?" asked the China Cat.

  "Gracious, yes!" exclaimed the Cloth Dog. "Can't you see that my tail is pulled off?"

  The China Cat stretched her neck and looked at the Cloth Dog. Surely enough, in the gleam from the street light she saw that he had no tail.

  "Oh, how dreadful!" mewed the Cat. "How did it happen? It must pain you?"

  "Not so much as at first," said the Dog. "I'm used to it now. One of the colored children pulled my tail off. I think it was the one they call Arabella. She's always grabbing things away from the others."

  "Yes, she grabbed me," said the China Cat. "But I'm glad she didn't pull off my tail. I'm dirty and sticky, and I hardly know myself, but, thank goodness, I'm all here."

  "That's more than I can say of myself," said the Cloth Dog sadly. "And I'm afraid you will not be all there after a few days in this house. It's a dreadful place, and the children are so rough!"

  "How did you come to be here?" asked the China Cat. "Were you brought here from the workshop of Santa Claus?"

  "Bless your whiskers, no!" barked the Cloth Dog. "Of course I once came from North Pole Land, but that was years ago. I was a good-looking toy then, and I had a fine tail. But after a while the children with whom I lived grew tired of me. I was tossed about, thrown into corners, and at last put out in the ashes. There one of these colored children found me, and brought me here. And the very first day there was a scrabble and a fight over me, and my tail was pulled off."

  "Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that!" sighed the China Cat. "If you could only be taken to the store of Mr. Mugg he would put a new tail on you. He mended the broken leg of the Nodding Donkey."

  "I'm afraid it is too late," whined the Cloth Dog. "But I am sorry for you. You are such a fine toy, and almost new."

  "Yes, I am quite new. In fact, I have never been sold as yet," said the Cat. "I wouldn't be out of the store now, except for the fire. I was going to be taken by a very nice little girl named Jennie Moore. But now, alas, it is too late for that!"

  "Tell me about the fire," begged the Cloth Dog. "It will make me forget that I have no tail."

  So there on the shelf in the tenement kitchen, the China Cat told the Cloth Dog the story of the fire in the toy shop, and how she had come to be taken away by Jeff.

  "I wondered where he had found you when I saw him bring you in this morning," barked the Dog, when the Cat finished her story. "Indeed, you have had many adventures; almost as many as I."

  The two unfortunate toys became very friendly there in the half darkness of the night. The Cat was just telling about the Nodding Donkey, and how he had made the lame boy smile, when she suddenly stopped mewing.

  "What's the matter?" asked the Cloth Dog.

  "I heard a noise," said the China Cat.

  "Oh, that's only rain," went on the Dog. "It is raining hard outside, and you hear it more plainly here because we are so near the street. Don't worry. Though this place is dirty, no rain comes in."

  So the Cat went on with her story, but as the rain came down harder and faster it brought her another adventure.

  Not far from the tenement was a river. And because there had been much rain before this last hard shower, the river had risen very high, until it was almost ready to overflow the banks.

  Down pelted the rain, and soon there was a louder roar in the street outside.

  "Is that just the rain?" asked the Cat of the Dog.

  "It does sound a little different," the Dog replied. "I wonder if anything is happening? And see, what is that on the floor?"

  "It is water!" cried the Cat, catching the gleam of it in the light of the street lamp. "Water is running in under the door!" she added.

  "Then the river must be overflowing," barked the Dog. "The water is running in here. Oh, what shall we do?"

  As the two toys watched they saw the puddle of water on the floor grow larger. The rain pelted down harder than before, and all at once there was a shouting in the streets.

  "Get out! Get out, everybody!" came the cry. "There's a big flood! The river is rising! Get up and get out, everybody!"

  CHAPTER VII. THE RESCUE

  For a few moments after this wild shouting in the street there was no sound in the negro basement where the China Cat and the Cloth Dog without any tail were perched on the shelf. The rain pelted down harder than before, a regular flood in itself, and to the noise of the drops was added the roar from the flooded river.

  Presently there came a pounding on the basement door of the tenement where Jeff, the colored boy, lived.

  Bang! Bang! Bang! came the loud knock.

  "Who's dat?" asked Jeff's mother from the bedroom where she was sleeping. "Who's dat knockin' at de do'?"

  Bang! Bang! Bang! came the sound again.

  "Can that be thunder?" whispered the China Cat to the Cloth Dog.

  "No, this isn't a thunderstorm," answered the Dog. "It is much worse than any thunderstorm I ever heard. There is going to be a bad time here, with a flood and everything."

  "Who's dat?" asked the voice of Jeff's mother again, as the pounding at the door sounded a second time.

  "The police!" was the answer.

  Jeff, who had been awakened, heard this answer. He covered his head with the clothes, and cowered down in the bed.

  "Oh, mah good land!" thought Jeff when he heard this. "De p'lice has done come to git me 'cause I took de China Cat! Oh, good land! I ain't so smart as I thought! Oh, dey's gwine 'rest me suah!"

  But the police had not come to get Jeff. Once more the officer pounded with his club on the basement door.

  "Come there!" he cried. "Get up and dress and skip out if you don't want to be drowned! The river is rising. It will flood all these basement tenements! You'll have to clear out-all of you! Wake up and get out! We'll help you! Open the door!"

  "Oh, massy me! A flood!" cried Jeff's mother. "Does yo' heah dat, Rastus?" she called to her husband. "Dere's a flood an' we's done got to run out! Git up an' open de do' an' I'll roust up de chilluns!"

  "I'll open the do,' Ma,"
said Jeff, slipping out of his bed, and as he swung the door open there stood a policeman.

  "Come, boy; lively!" cried the officer. "You were long enough answering my knock. You've all got to leave here! How many of you are there?"

  "Ten," answered Jeff, and he looked over the mantel shelf to see if the officer noticed the China Cat.

  But the policeman had something else to do just then. He and others had been sent to the tenement district, near the rising river, to rouse and save the poor people from the flood.

  "Ten, eh?" cried the policeman. "That's quite a family. Well, don't stop to put on more than a few clothes. There isn't any time to save things. The river will be pouring in here soon."

  "Some of it's heah already," remarked Jeff, as he saw the water on the floor.

  "Lively now!" called the policeman again. "Here, let me take some of those," he said, as Jeff's father came out of a bedroom carrying in his arms two sleepy little colored girls.

  The policeman wore a big rubber raincoat, which was dripping wet, and in the gleam of a light, which Jeff's father made, the wet rubber coat glistened brightly.

  The policeman took the two little sisters of Jeff, and tucked them under his rubber coat. They were too sleepy to cry, having just been lifted from bed.

  "This will keep you dry," said the officer. "I'll put you in the wagon and send you to the station house."

  "Is yo'-is yo' gwine to 'rest 'em?" asked Jeff.

  "Arrest 'em? No. What for?" asked the officer, with a smile, as he splashed, with his rubber boots, into the puddle of water on the tenement floor. "They haven't done anything, and you haven't done anything to be arrested for, have you?"

  Jeff looked at the White China Cat, but did not answer.

  "I'll just carry these youngsters out to the wagon, and then come back for more," the policeman went on. "You'll all be kept safe in the station house, or some place, until the river goes down."

  Jeff breathed easier. He was afraid it had been found out that he took the China Cat. He darted quickly back into his bedroom and began putting on his shoes. That was all he had taken off when he curled up to go to sleep. He had only a few clothes, and he slept in them. So did most of the other children of the tenements in cold weather.

  Out into the rain splashed the policeman carrying the two little colored girls. They were softly crying now, but he comforted them as best he could, and kept them dry under his coat. The rain was coming down harder than ever and the roar of the rising river was louder. When Jeff's father and mother and the other children were ready to be taken out, the water on the floor of the tenement was up to the policeman's knees.

  "You'll have to hurry!" he called to the frightened family. "We have to rescue a lot of other people. Skip out and get into the wagon and you'll be safe."

  As Jeff and the others made their way up the steps to the sidewalk they saw and heard more of the terrible storm. There was water in the streets. With the rising of the river and the rain, the streets were almost like little creeks themselves. Outside the tenement stood the police patrol wagon. As many of the poor people as possible had been crowded into it, Jeff and his folks among them.

  "Are any more left in your rooms?" asked the officer who had pounded with his club on the door to awaken the sleepers.

  "No, we's all out," answered Jeff's mother.

  "Think I'll take a look and make sure," said the policeman. Back through the flood he waded in his rubber boots, and down he went into the basement where the lamp was still burning.

  "Any one here?" asked the officer.

  He listened, but there was no sound save the pelting of the rain, the roar of the river, and the trickle of water as it rose higher and higher in the basement. Up on their shelf the China Cat and the Cloth Dog sat and looked down. They had not dared to speak or move while any one was in the room. But they had just begun to feel that it was time for them to do something to save themselves when the policeman came in again. Then they had to remain quiet, though they were much afraid of being drowned in the flood.

  "Hello!" suddenly exclaimed the police officer as he saw the China Cat. "Seems to me I know you! I remember about you! I wonder how you got here? You were among the toys taken from Mr. Mugg's shop during the fire. Well! Well! To think of finding you here, Miss China Cat! I shouldn't be surprised but what that oldest colored boy might know something about you. But I'll take you along, and hand you back to Mr. Mugg, where you belong."

  With that the policeman reached up, lifted down the China Cat, and thrust her into an inside pocket, where his rubber coat would keep her nice and dry.

  "Though if he only knew it," thought the China Cat, "I'd just as soon be rained on a little, to clean me off. Oh, but I am so dirty!"

  However, the policeman did not stop to think that perhaps the Cat might like to be cleaned. In fact, he did not think she had any feelings at all, for it was a long while since he had been little enough to play with toys and enjoy make believe games.

  Into his pocket went the China Cat. Then the policeman looked at the Cloth Dog on the shelf.

  "You never came from the toy shop, that's certain," said the officer. "No use taking you!"

  So he left the poor Cloth Dog, without any tail, alone on the kitchen shelf, but he took the China Cat away with him in his pocket, the policeman did.

  Out into the rain-soaked street the officer made his way once more.

  "Nobody left in here, Jim," he called to the other officer on the police wagon. "Get those people to the station, and then come back. There's a lot more who will have to be rescued this night. It's going to be a bad flood."

  And so it was, though the China Cat saw little of it, for she was safe and snug in the officer's pocket. It was black and dark in there, but it was warm, though a bit smothery. And it was clean, which the China Cat liked best of all.

  "Though I am very dirty myself," she said. "I hope I get somewhere so I can wash."

  All night long the rescue of people from the flood was kept up. Jeff and his family were taken to a place of refuge where they were given something to eat and beds on which to lie down. All night long the policemen worked, and when morning came all those who had been in danger were saved.

  The officer who had the China Cat in his pocket walked into his station house just as day was breaking.

  "Here is something you'll like to hear about," said the policeman to the sergeant behind the desk, as he set the toy on the top of it.

  "A cat! My land! where'd you get her?" asked the sergeant. "She'll be just what we want to catch mice around here! Here, puss, puss!" he called.

  "Oh, my! he thinks I'm alive," said the China Cat to herself.

  CHAPTER VIII. JENNIE GETS THE CAT

  The policeman who had rescued the China Cat from the flood in the basement of the negro tenement stood and looked at the sergeant behind the desk in the station house. Then the policeman looked at the China Cat which he had set on top of the desk.

  "What's the matter with you? Why are you acting so funny?" asked the sergeant of the policeman.

  "Funny? I'm not acting funny. You are," the policeman laughed.

  "How am I funny?" the sergeant wanted to know.

  "Why, you're calling that cat, and asking her to catch mice, and-"

  "Of course I'm asking her to catch mice," said the sergeant. "There's a lot of mice around here and-"

  "Ha! Ha!" laughed the policeman. "That cat will never catch any mice. She's a toy, a China Cat, and she was stolen from that toy shop where there was a fire yesterday. It was Horatio Mugg's place. A lot of the toys were set out on the sidewalk, and some negroes who live near by walked off with quite a lot. Mr. Mugg, after the fire, made out a list of his toys that were missing, and among them was this China Cat. I had one of the lists.

  "Then, when I was sent to rescue the people from the flood, I saw this Cat on the mantel. I brought her here, as I do with all stolen things I find, and you can send her back to Mr. Mugg."

  The sergeant put on his gl
asses, for he was rather an elderly man, and looked carefully at the China Cat.

  "Bless me!" exclaimed the sergeant, "she is a China Cat after all. I took her for a real black and white pussy."

  "Oh, dear me!" thought the China Cat. "He thought I was partly black! I must be very dirty indeed. My toy friends would never know me! Oh, shall I ever be clean again?"

  "Yes, it is only a toy China Cat," said the policeman who had rescued the pussy, as well as the negro family. "I guess she was pure white once. But she got blackened in the fire, and it didn't wash off in the flood, though goodness knows it rained enough!"

  "I should say so," agreed the sergeant. "Well, leave the China Cat here, and I will send her back to Mr. Mugg. You didn't see any of his other stolen toys, did you?"

  "No," the policeman answered, "I did not. There was a little Cloth Dog on the same shelf, but he had no tail and one eye was almost gone, so I knew he didn't belong in the toy store, and I let him stay there."

  "Poor little Cloth Dog!" thought the China Cat. "I wonder what will become of him?"

  However, she never heard, nor did she ever again see her little friend without any tail. But I might tell you that the little Cloth Dog was still on the mantel when the flood went down and Jeff and the family moved back into their basement. The Cloth Dog was not drowned, and he lived for many years after that, even without his tail, though I cannot say he was very happy.

  "Well, you take care of the China Cat. I am going to get my breakfast," said the policeman who had brought the white pussy into the station house.

  "I'll take care of her, and send her back to Mr. Mugg as soon as I have a chance," the sergeant promised.

  Then he set the China Cat off the top of the big desk, and on a smaller one, so she would not get broken. All the remainder of the morning the China Cat was in the police station, though she was not arrested, you understand. Oh, my, no! She had done nothing wrong, even though she was very dirty. But of course being dirty was not her fault.