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Akaroa Mail and Banks Peninsula Advertiser, Volume 2, Issue 170, 5 March 1878, Page 3

" Talking about cats," said Uucle Tim, a regular Yankee, " puts me in mind of a cat I once owned. Let me tell you about her. She was a Maltee, and what that cat did'nt know wasn't worth knowin'. Here's one thing she did : —ln the spring of 46 I moved into "the little old house on the Crooked River. We put our provisions down in the cellar, and the first night we made our beds on the floor. But we didn't sleep. No sooner had it come dark than we heard a tearin' and a squeakin' in the cellar that was awful. I lit the candle and went down. Jerusalem ! talk about rats 1 I never saw such a sight in my born days. Every inch of the cellar bottom was covered with them. They ran up on to me, and all over me. I jumped back into the room and called the cat. She came down and looked. I guess she sat there about ten minutes, looking at them rats, and I was wnitin' to see what she would do. By-in-by she shook her head, and turned and went up-stairs. She didn't care to tackle 'em. That night, I, tell ye, there wasn't much sleep. In the mornhr I called for the cat, and could not find her. She'd gone. I guess the rats had frightened her • and to tell the plain truth, I didn't wonder much. Night came again, and the old cat hadn't come, Says Betsy Ann (that's my wife) to me, says she, ' Tim, if that old cat don't come back, we'll have to leave this place ; the rats '11 eat us up.' Says I, 'just let the old cat be.' I didn't believe she left us for good and all. Just as Betsy Ann was puttin' the children to bed we heard a-scratchin' and a waulin' at the outside door. I went and opened it; and there stood our old Maltee on the door-step, and behind her a whole army of cats, all paraded as regular as any soldiers ! I let our old cat in, and the others followed her. She went right to the cellar door and scratched there. I began to understand. 0?d Maltee had been for help. I opened the way to the cellar ; she marched down, and the other cats tramped after her in regular order— and aR they went past I counted fiftysix of 'em! Oh, my ! if there wasn't a row and a rumpus in that 'ere cellar that night, then I'm mistaken ! The next morning the old cat came up and caught hold of my trousers leg, and pulled me towards the door. I went down to see the sight. Talk about .yer Bunker Hill and Boston massacres! Mercy ! I never saw snch a sight before nor since. . Betsy Ann and me, with my boy Sammy, were all day as hard at it as we could be clearin' the dead rats out of that 'ere cellar. It's a fact—every word of it."— American Paper.