PROUD CATS AND DOUBLE TULIPS.
ACAT show is a humiliating business. At no time do we shOw ourselves such pitiful creatures as when we set out to exhibit our cats. Even if at home Champion. Surbiton Blue Blood has always behaved with respect and tenderness towards his keepers, he can scarcely do so after having seen his contemporaries, languid in their cages, blasé about the success, and their masters foolishly - demonstrative and nervous with excitement.
For there is no doubt that human beings make a poor• show- at a cat exhibition. They stand outside those . unworthy little cages and point out the cats to each other. . " Diddufns then," they say. " What an angel, what a booful coat And some of them poke their fingers between the bars—if there is not a grim notice saying " Do Not Touch "—and hope vainly for some response. Anxious owners hurry up, open the cage doors and drag out a would-be champion whom they hastily brush or ruffle up. They do not attempt to look as if the prize meant nothing to them.
Yet if cats must see us in our true proportions at these shows, our respect for them must mount up. There, is no doubt that they know why they are there. But this,-- question of prize giving does not disturb them at all. They even are extremely rude to the judges. Few of them show open indignation. Nevertheless .this year one monster red Persian, about the size and colour of a fox, leapt to the back of his cage and standing with four feet as. close together as possible, swore and screamed as the steward politely invited him to come out and be judged. And as further measures were found necessary, he raised his claw- and ripped it down • the steward's arm. But most champions submit to being lifted out of their cages with- a perfectly dull expression. They submit with contempt to being held up under the armpits, turned upside down, blown upon to make their fur whirr out and expose their skins. They. look away, rather over the heads of their judges and make no movement of protest. But they are pointedly rude.
When inside their cages they lie asleep—more asleep than ever they are at home. The first prizers in a corner, one mountain of fur ; the second prizers, who are more openly conceited, on their sides, their legs stretched out in front—all four of them. Their size is astounding.
The first -prizers are not pleasant to meet casually, though at home they are probably genial enough. At the Show, however, advances are not encouraged. If gently tickled -with-a straw from their mattress, .they.will get up and turn around so that a larger portion of their back is . towards the public. A second prizer who was evidently expecting to rise to higher things next year gave e- special display . of. insolence. On being " diddumed " when. sleeping—with front paws turned in -and hind- quarters tucked neatly under—it opened its eyes crossly and without moving its front part, raised its hindquarters. at us, leaving its head still on the floor. When its end was fully raised it let it down- again, and again closed its eyes. The hint was plain. We moved on.
No, the only cats which were companionable at the Show were the Highly Commended and the Kittens. They were called Kittens, but one would scarcely guess that they were all under nine months. Being champions in miniature • and mostly Persian at that, they were nearly as large as normal full-size cats. But they were delightfully friendly and their faces still kept that adorable round expression, half determined and half wondering, that makes kittens the most alluring of all infant animals. Moreover their front legs had still that somewhat trousered look—a sure sign of youth. They were perfectly willing to play with a finger poked between the bars. In fact if A finger was not forthcoming, a small paw would come through and pat the air.
But there is one sad observation that must be made: about -cats, and it should be made . about Tulips also. Part of the charm of eats and of tulips, to those of us who are not specialists or breeders but only lovers of them, lies in the clean, slender outlines of both. It is the tulip's singleness and simplicity of line which is so enchanting, and it is the- cat's litheness and lean sinuous form that makes it irresistible. A great danger is -threatening us. Not more, and it would seem less, than half the tulips we see—in Covent Garden for instance—are single tulips. They are being crowded out by monstrous double; quad, ruple petalled flowers of many colours. And likewise at the cat show there were comparatively few short -haired cats. 'One-could not quarrel with long haired cats as one could with double tulips. They are magnificent in -their own way. There is nothing like a cream or chinchilla Persian. But C'est magnifique mais ce n'est pas le chat. Slim, beautifully moving, short haired blacks and oranges and whites are the cats we should worship. They are the most truly and fully catlike. There were just a few of them at the Crystal Palace this year ; some particu- larly delightful greys,- close cropped, with firm faces and clean strong paws. Certainly the Persians looked well- enough in their cages, sitting on carpets of appropriate colours to set of( their delicately shaded fur. But they had no shape—who could tell whether they ever leapt from window to garden wall ? It is almost possible to believe that they could not exist without devoted owners to brush and scent and feed them. But cats such as those splendid, independent looking, smooth-haired fel- lows undoubtedly walked, graceful, unheeding and with tail erect, past our caves when we were still barbarians, and doubtless they will do so when we arc barbarians again.
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