Edward Peple

“ There were tinklings of little bells, while humans called shrilly to vulgar officials along the wires. From a mass of incoherence the officials learned that some evil-hearted ruffian had entered the thirty-thousand-dollar garden and had stolen a priceless cat.
Thus the outer world went hunting. So great was its zeal—so great was the offer of reward—that it captured every cat in town, with the one exception, of course, of Omar Ben Sufi. This particular hero was found next morning, asleep, in the geranium-bed; so they bore him in, while weepings burst forth afresh. And well they might. ”

“ On his tail were rings of missing fur, suggesting former attachments, not of lady friends, but of tin cans and strings. For further assets, he possessed one eye and a twisted smile. His present total liability lay in the dog beyond the wall, so the arab wasn't so badly fixed, after all. Besides, he owned property. It consisted of a bullfrog which he carried in his mouth, with its legs and web feet protruding in wriggly, but unavailing, protest.
To breathe the better, the street cat dropped his frog and set one mangy paw upon it; then, suddenly, he spied the Persian. ”

“ He dwelt with an exclusive family of humans in a little eighty-thousand-dollar cottage on the outskirts of vulgarity—which is to say, the villa was situated near enough to town to admit of marketing, but far enough removed therefrom to escape the clatter of plebeian toil and the noxious contact with the unhealthy, unwealthy herd. Here the humans entertained selected friends who came at the ends of weeks to admire the splendor of Omar Ben's tail, to bow down to the humans' money, and to hate them fiercely because they had it. ”

“ Omar Ben had never seen a lady-cat, and his ideal of the sex was something modest and retiring. Miss Mame was not retiring. She greeted her friend's friend without the courtesy of a "Mr.," looked in open admiration at the handsome gentleman, and asked if he were single.
The aristocrat murmured a commonplace and edged away. At the slight the lady took umbrage, spat warningly, and showed her claws, till Ringtail averted trouble by a generous display of tact. ”

“ Bo!" wailed Lizzie, wringing her paws as she perched upon the roof. "Do hurry while youse has got de chanst! He'll rip you somethin' terrible! For my sake, dearie, won't you slope?"
"No, not upon your life!" called Omar Ben gravely. "I will not demean myself by retreating from any cat alive."
This statement was fat with brave audacity, but lean in the matter of discretion; so Pete leaned down with one last friendly whisper of appeal:
"W'y, you chowder-headed ass, he'll make yer look like a moth-et flannel shirt! Beat it!" ”

“ De gent's all right, but he's young, dat's all, an' I'm goin' to learn him—see? You chase aroun' fer Lizzie, an' if de goil ain't got no udder date, yet kin meet us here 'bout moondown, an' we'll bring yer a brace er frawgs. ”