A favourite cat in a gentleman's house was rather fond of nocturnal
rambles and late hours, perhaps copying his master, but no matter what his
engagements were the cat always returned regularly next morning precisely
at nine o'clock, which was the breakfast hour, and rang the house bell at the
hall door. This fact was stated to me on undoubted authority; and, in truth,
there is nothing too wonderful to believe about the intellect of cats; no
matter what strange things may be narrated of them, nothing should be
held improbable or impossible to their intelligence.
But cats are decidedly malific; they are selfish, revengeful, treacherous,
cunning, and generally dangerous. The evil spirit in them is easily aroused.
It is an Irish superstition that if you are going a journey, and meet a cat, you
should turn back. But the cat must meet you on the road, not simply be in
the house; and it must look you full in the face. Then cross yourself and turn
back; for a witch or a devil is in your path.
It is believed also that if a black cat is killed and a bean placed in the
heart, and the animal afterwards buried, the beans that grow from that seed
will confer extraordinary power; for if a man places one in his mouth, he
will become invisible, and can go anywhere he likes without being seen.
Cats have truly something awful in them. According to this popular
belief they know everything that is said, and can take various shapes
through their demoniac power. A cat once lived in a farmer's family for
many years, and understood both Irish and English perfectly. Then the
family grew afraid of it, for they said it would certainly talk some day. So
the farmer put it into a bag, determined to get rid of it on the mountains. But
on the way he met a pack of hounds, and the dogs smelt at the bag and
dragged it open, on which the cat jumped out; but the hounds were on it in
a moment, and tore the poor animal to pieces. However, before her death
she had the to say to the farmer in very good Irish--"It is well for you that I
must die today, for had I lived I meant to have killed you this very night."
These were the last dying words of the cat uttered in her death agonies,
before the face of many credible witnesses, so there can be no doubt on the
matter.
Cats were special objects of mysterious dread to the ancient Irish. They
believed that many of them were men and women metamorphosed into cats
by demoniacal power. Cats also were the guardians of hidden treasure, and
had often great battles among themselves on account of the hidden gold;
when a demon, in the shape of the chief cat, led on the opposing forces on
each side, and compelled all the cats in the district to take part in the
conflict.
The Druidical or royal cat, the chief monarch of all the cats in Ireland,
was endowed with human speech and faculties, and possessed great and
singular privileges. "A slender black cat, wearing a chain of silver," so it is
described.
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