The Great American Cat Show!

Patriotic cat with a newspaper hat and a flag.

       There was so much noise, children’s noise, out on the front porch, that it seemed to Mrs. Morris there must be forty children there, instead of fourteen. There were just fourteen but every single one of them was talking! 

       The children themselves had no idea that they were “making a noise.” They were discussing a matter of great importance. They each had a savings-bank, and it was these little iron savings-banks which caused the talk and noise and excitement, The children were counting the money in them and adding it up for the tenth or twelfth time, and it added up differently every time, though nobody could make quite four dollars of it. 

       Now just think of it! Fourth of July was coming in a couple of weeks—and only four dollars to divide around among fourteen! Why, it would scarcely more than buy the torpedoes! The children agreed with Cary Perry. that it would be no celebration at all without lots of fire-crackers, and candy and balloons, and flags in their hats, and pin-wheels and rockets and roman candles at night. 

       But where was the money to come from? 

       For months they had been cautioned and warned not to spend their money for this and that, as children love to, but to “save it for the Fourth;” and they hadn't saved it and now they were sorry. 

       But mothers are so kind to their heedless children; and Mrs. Morris helped them out of their trouble by proposing a cat-show, and said they could have the roomy verandah at the side of the house for that purpose. 

       Everybody hopped up, delighted at that! Robby Morris said it was a great idea, and Cary Perry said he knew people would much rather they would have a cat-show than any more Wild Indian shows. People in that town were very good about going to children’s SHOWS but they had tired of Buffalo Bill and his painted and feathered braves especially as the children didn’t do anything without first consulting Mrs. Morris. They begged and borrowed and got together fifty-two cats. Cages were made, and bows of red or white or blue were provided for all—each cat had a bow. The fronts of the cages were of mosquito wire netting, and therefore you could see the cats perfectly. 

       When the time came for the show, it was a beautiful June day, and the gardens around the Morris house were full of blooming roses. The house had a great flag flying in the breeze, and the verandah itself was gay with flags and flowers and bunting. 

       The children had the cats all there by noon, “so that they could get settled down” before the time for the show to begin. The wildest, youngest cats were placed in the cages. Some of the more peaceful old sleepy cats staid in their own cat-baskets. At various intervals during the afternoon Mrs. Morris’s three handsome “ parlor-cats ”—so-called because they were generally to be found curled up in the depths of the Turkish chairs— were brought and coaxed to sit on the window-sill; they were bright brown-and-white, and very handsome. Mrs. Morris’s four kitchen-cats staid peacefully in one corner of the verandah all the afternoon and made no effort to go away. 

       But everybody agreed that the prettiest sight of all was Mrs. Pingray’s ten; they had a very big open wire cage all to themselves, the top stuck full of tiny flags, the floor carpeted, every cat wearing a silver collar with its name engraved on it, and at one side of the cage was an immense bunch of catnip fastened on by red, white and blue ribbons. 

       And yet, as people passed along they agreed that Mrs. McLellan’s two kittens in the big straw hat were the very prettiest, after all. The hat was hung by a nail against the wall. Mrs. McLellan had brought them in it herself. It was the kittens’ favorite nest at home, and they sat in it at the show and appeared to be perfectly comfortable and unconcerned. 

       The children themselves wore a good deal of red, white and blue, and altogether it was a pretty scene. 

       There was a very large attendance; the admittance fee was only ten cents, but some paid three times the amount; they said it was worth much more than ten cents to see so many took them about. cats together. 

       The cats themselves behaved quite well. If one got scared or wrathful so that his tail became of an enormous size and waved about, everybody came to look at that one and laugh; and if one growled, or spit, it was cheered tremendously. Many of the cats purred when their mistresses came up and spoke to them. 

       At intervals national songs were sung by the children, and the piano: was played. And at the suggestion of Mrs. Morris the children had got from the owners of the cats various cunning little anecdotes of something the cats had done, and little Peter Peterson, who was the head showman, repeated them to the people as he If there was no anecdote he would say, “ This, as you will see, is a very fine cat, a very handsome cat!” 

       But the best fun was when the show was over, and one of the visitors told the children there was no need to carry the cats home with so much labor—but to just let them out and they would go themselves! So they let them out, all at one time, everybody helping, and away they scampered, like mad, and truly each cat found its way back by itself and was there when its people got home! 

       Then the visitors went too, telling the children they hoped they would have all the firecrackers they wanted, on the Fourth; and so they did.  Ruth Virginia Sackett.