Herland Charlotte Perkins Gilman (ebook and pdf reader TXT) đ
- Author: Charlotte Perkins Gilman
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Moreover, they had ceased to kill birds. They were rigorously bred to destroy mice and moles and all such enemies of the food supply; but the birds were numerous and safe.
While we were discussing birds, Terry asked them if they used feathers for their hats, and they seemed amused at the idea. He made a few sketches of our womenâs hats, with plumes and quills and those various tickling things that stick out so far; and they were eagerly interested, as at everything about our women.
As for them, they said they only wore hats for shade when working in the sun; and those were big light straw hats, something like those used in China and Japan. In cold weather they wore caps or hoods.
âBut for decorative purposesâ âdonât you think they would be becoming?â pursued Terry, making as pretty a picture as he could of a lady with a plumed hat.
They by no means agreed to that, asking quite simply if the men wore the same kind. We hastened to assure her that they did notâ âand drew for them our kind of headgear.
âAnd do no men wear feathers in their hats?â
âOnly Indians,â Jeff explained. âSavages, you know.â And he sketched a war bonnet to show them.
âAnd soldiers,â I added, drawing a military hat with plumes.
They never expressed horror or disapproval, nor indeed much surpriseâ âjust a keen interest. And the notes they made!â âmiles of them!
But to return to our pussycats. We were a good deal impressed by this achievement in breeding, and when they questioned usâ âI can tell you we were well pumped for informationâ âwe told of what had been done for dogs and horses and cattle, but that there was no effort applied to cats, except for show purposes.
I wish I could represent the kind, quiet, steady, ingenious way they questioned us. It was not just curiosityâ âthey werenât a bit more curious about us than we were about them, if as much. But they were bent on understanding our kind of civilization, and their lines of interrogation would gradually surround us and drive us in till we found ourselves up against some admissions we did not want to make.
âAre all these breeds of dogs you have made useful?â they asked.
âOhâ âuseful! Why, the hunting dogs and watchdogs and sheepdogs are usefulâ âand sleddogs of course!â âand ratters, I suppose, but we donât keep dogs for their usefulness. The dog is âthe friend of man,â we sayâ âwe love them.â
That they understood. âWe love our cats that way. They surely are our friends, and helpers, too. You can see how intelligent and affectionate they are.â
It was a fact. Iâd never seen such cats, except in a few rare instances. Big, handsome silky things, friendly with everyone and devotedly attached to their special owners.
âYou must have a heartbreaking time drowning kittens,â we suggested. But they said, âOh, no! You see we care for them as you do for your valuable cattle. The fathers are few compared to the mothers, just a few very fine ones in each town; they live quite happily in walled gardens and the houses of their friends. But they only have a mating season once a year.â
âRather hard on Thomas, isnât it?â suggested Terry.
âOh, noâ âtruly! You see, it is many centuries that we have been breeding the kind of cats we wanted. They are healthy and happy and friendly, as you see. How do you manage with your dogs? Do you keep them in pairs, or segregate the fathers, or what?â
Then we explained thatâ âwell, that it wasnât a question of fathers exactly; that nobody wanted aâ âa mother dog; that, well, that practically all our dogs were malesâ âthere was only a very small percentage of females allowed to live.
Then Zava, observing Terry with her grave sweet smile, quoted back at him: âRather hard on Thomas, isnât it? Do they enjoy itâ âliving without mates? Are your dogs as uniformly healthy and sweet-tempered as our cats?â
Jeff laughed, eyeing Terry mischievously. As a matter of fact we began to feel Jeff something of a traitorâ âhe so often flopped over and took their side of things; also his medical knowledge gave him a different point of view somehow.
âIâm sorry to admit,â he told them, âthat the dog, with us, is the most diseased of any animalâ ânext to man. And as to temperâ âthere are always some dogs who bite peopleâ âespecially children.â
That was pure malice. You see, children were theâ âthe raison dâĂȘtre in this country. All our interlocutors sat up straight at once. They were still gentle, still restrained, but there was a note of deep amazement in their voices.
âDo we understand that you keep an animalâ âan unmated male animalâ âthat bites children? About how many are there of them, please?â
âThousandsâ âin a large city,â said Jeff, âand nearly every family has one in the country.â
Terry broke in at this. âYou must not imagine they are all dangerousâ âitâs not one in a hundred that ever bites anybody. Why, they are the best friends of the childrenâ âa boy doesnât have half a chance that hasnât a dog to play with!â
âAnd the girls?â asked Somel.
âOhâ âgirlsâ âwhy they like them too,â he said, but his voice flatted a little. They always noticed little things like that, we found later.
Little by little they wrung from us the fact that the friend of man, in the city, was a prisoner; was taken out for his meager exercise on a leash; was liable not only to many diseases but to the one destroying horror of rabies; and, in many cases, for the safety of the citizens, had to go muzzled. Jeff maliciously added vivid instances he had known or read of injury and death from mad dogs.
They did not scold or fuss
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