There once was a beautiful Lady Cat who had four kittens. When her kittens had grown old enough, she sent them out into the world to make their fortunes. “Go where you please and do what you will,” she told them; “but someday, I should like each of you to settle down with a family of Humans, as I have done. When you have done so, if it is possible, come visit me and tell me how you have fared with your families. Then I shall know whether I have raised wise children.”
Each kitten promised to do as she requested, for they loved their mother dearly and wished to please her. Having taken leave of their mother, the four young Cats went their several ways. The eldest was called Tom Augustus. Augustus decided that life in a large City should suit him best. He wandered on his own for a time, chasing mice and rats, hunting for scraps of food, and wondering up at the tall buildings. When he tired of this, he found himself a Human family as his mother had suggested. As soon as an opportune moment arose, he returned to visit his mother. He told her of all his adventures.
“And how do you get on with your family, my son?” she inquired.
“Oh, splendidly, splendidly,” he assured her. “I live with a young married couple who allow me free roam of the flat while they are away at work; in the evening, we sit by the fire together and have tea and a book. So you see, we enjoy quality time, but they are not overbearing.”
“That is wise, my son,” beamed the mother proudly. “One mustn’t allow one’s Humans to monopolize all one’s time.”
The second kitten was called Tom Nelson. Nelson decided to explore the Countryside. He roved about the lands, catching birds and mice and all manner of agreeable dainties. At last, he decided that he should like to continue in this line of business to the end of his days. So he found himself a Human family that owned a large plot of land with a farm on it. He made an excellent living there, keeping the barn free of mice and the fields free of crows and other pesky birds. For his services, he was allotted a portion of food and a dry bed in the hayloft. Occasionally, when it suited him, he amused himself by entertaining the smaller Humans as they went about their various chores.
One evening, he slipped away to tell his mother all about his arrangement with the family. She nodded her approval. “That is a good plan, my dear. One mustn’t allow one’s humans to imagine one is a lazy brute that cannot earn one’s own keep. I have two very wise sons indeed. If only your two sisters do half as well, I will consider myself the most successful and fortunate of mothers.”
The older sister was called Dame Clarice. Clarice was fond of taking her time about things, and spent several weeks making her way in a leisurely fashion from one sunny napping place to another. When at last Clarice chose her Human home, it was with a kind old woman who thought Clarice would make a perfect companion for a quiet life of relaxing and taking her ease. Clarice thought much the same of the old lady, and went and told the mother cat so. “She is a dear, lovely person, Mother,” Clarice cooed. “You may rest assured, however, I do not spoil her. When she is sitting idly and attempts to coax me into her lap, I ignore her entirely. But when she gives up and starts in on a bit of knitting or a book, I reward her by nestling into her arms. I must say, she often reacts in a most ungrateful manner. What do you make of it, Mother?”
“You are doing well, my daughter,” the mother assured her. “Humans are often slow to learn, that is all. You are quite right: one mustn’t allow one’s Humans to become spoilt and believe that it is for them to say when one will and will not give them attention. I am pleased with you and your brothers. Let us see if your youngest little sister will fare as well.”
The youngest of the four kittens was called Dame Eliza. Unlike her sister and brothers, Eliza had no interest in exploring the wide world on her own. Instead, she sought out and found herself a Human family immediately upon leaving her mother’s house. Eliza was rather fond of dainty human dishes. Fortunately, her Humans offered all manner of such luxuries: bowls of cream or milk, bits of fish, and other such tasty treats. At length, Eliza went happily to tell her mother.
“I hope, dear,” said the mother gravely, “that you do not allow this treatment to cloud your judgment where the Humans are concerned? They are so easily given the wrong impressions. One day they may think they can feed you just anything they please and you will accept it.”
“Oh, no, Mother,” Eliza laughed. “You needn’t worry. I reject every dish they offer me, until they throw up their hands in despair. Then I go into the pantry and help myself. So you see, they know full well who does all the choosing.”
“Then I am satisfied,” said the mother. She added, with a contented smile, “I have raised four very wise cats indeed.” With that, following a few harmless nips and swats, she graciously allowed her Human to stroke her ears.
