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 Rh in the shade. When she died, her little body was carefully embalmed; and travellers who visited Arquà, and the poet's home, hidden among the Euganean Hills, have stared and mocked and wondered at this poor semblance of cathood, this furless, withered mummy, which, more than five hundred years ago, frolicked softly in the joyousness of youth. Upon the marble slab on which she lay were cut two epigrams by Antonius Quærengus, one of which gracefully commemorated the rival passions that shared Petrarch's heart. "Maximus ignis ego; Laura secundus erat." Doubtless of these conflicting emotions, the more simple and sincere was the poet's affection for his cat.

As we search for Pussy's records in literature, that we may better trace her half-hidden history through several centuries of fluctuating fortunes, we find that the striking of the personal note invariably heralds a growing appreciation and esteem. When she figures in folk-lore, she is unsanctified and maleficent, a candidate for "the uncharitable votes of Hell." In proverbs, she serves as an illustration of characteristics without charm, and of wisdom without distinction. In fable, she—or he—is, for the most part, a clever hypocrite, the Raminagrobis of La Fontaine, the Tybert of "Reineke Fuchs." This latter rascal, if less sanctimonious than the chatemite, or than the austere hermit of