Again there is nothing demoniacal about a white cat

Again there is nothing demoniacal about a white cat

Again there is nothing demoniacal about a white cat

The senses of the black cat are nearly always in a state of perfection, while the white is often deaf, and at times a little blind. Again there is nothing demoniacal about a white cat, as there often is about a black one. I remember, when a little boy at the grammar school of Aberdeen, receiving a box from the country containing lots of good things, and marked, “A Present from Muffle” Muffle was a pet tabby of mine and, childlike, replying in verse, the last lines of the “poem” being

“And when at last Death’s withering arms
    Shall throw his mantle thee around,
May angel catties carry thee
    To the happy hunting-ground.”

Well, a blue-eyed white pussy was my idea of an “angel cattie” then, and it is not altered still.