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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/9295-h.zip b/9295-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..f8a7078 --- /dev/null +++ b/9295-h.zip diff --git a/9295-h/9295-h.htm b/9295-h/9295-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3304215 --- /dev/null +++ b/9295-h/9295-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1178 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> +<html> +<head> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of A Night Out, by Edward Peple</title> +<meta HTTP-EQUIV="content-Type" CONTENT="text/html; charset=us-ascii"> + <style type="text/css"> + <!-- + * { font-family: Times;} + P { text-indent: 1em; + margin-top: .75em; + font-size: 14pt; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; } + HR { width: 33%; } + --> + </style> +</head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of A Night Out, by Edward Peple + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: A Night Out + +Author: Edward Peple + +Posting Date: June 14, 2013 [EBook #9295] +Release Date: November, 2005 +First Posted: September 17, 2003 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A NIGHT OUT *** + + + + +Produced by Mary Meehan, Juliet Sutherland, David Garcia, +and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading +Team + + + + + + +</pre> + + + + <p> + + </p> + + <p> + + </p> + <center> + <img src="images/frontis.png" height="452" width="400" alt= + "[Illustration: 'The Beast has had the time of his life.']"> + </center> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <h1> + A NIGHT OUT + </h1> + <center> + <b>BY EDWARD PEPLE<br> + <br> + <i>Frontispiece by</i> R.L. GOLDBERG<br> + <br></b> + <hr> + + </center> + <p> + + </p> + + + <h3> + I + </h3> + <p> + Omar Ben Sufi was a cat. This unadorned statement would have + wounded Omar Ben to the marrow of his pride, for he chanced + to be a splendid tiger-marked feline of purest Persian breed, + with glorious yellow eyes and a Solomon-in-all-his-glory + tail. His pedigree could be traced directly back to Padisha + Zim Yuki Yowsi Zind—a dignity, in itself, sufficient to + cause an aristocratic languor; but, to the layman, he was + just a cat. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + The master did not toil. He lived, for certain hours of the + day, in Wall Street, where he sank his patrician fingers into + the throats of lesser men, squeezed them dry, then washed his + hands in violet water, and built a church. True, he did not + attend this church himself, but he built it; otherwise his + neighbors might have been deprived of the opportunity of + praising God. + </p> + <p> + Omar Ben had a French maid all to himself—a perky + little human with a quasi-kinship to the feline + race—who combed him and brushed him and slicked him + down and gave him endless, mortifying baths. Also, she tied + lavender bows about his neck, and fed him from Dresden china + on minute particles of flaked fish and raw sirloin, with a + dessert of pasteurized cream. + </p> + <p> + In the rear of the eighty-thousand-dollar cottage there was a + thirty-thousand-dollar flower-garden—an oppressively + clean garden, where the big Jack-roses were as immaculate as + a "mama's Lizzie-boy," and the well-bred, timid little + violets seemed to long to play in the dirt, yet dared not + because of the master-rule of "form." And here the clean cat + used to sun himself in the clean garden, thinking his clean + thoughts and perishing of <i>ennui</i> clean through. + </p> + <p> + Then, one day, from the vulgar outer world came an unclean + incident. + </p> + <p> + Omar Ben became conscious of an uproar beyond the garden + wall. It embraced a whimper of canine hope, a spitting taunt, + and the patter of flying paws; then, suddenly, on the top of + the high brick wall appeared a cat. The newcomer paused an + instant to fling an obscene <i>au revoir</i> at the raging, + disappointed dog, dropped carelessly down into a + geranium-bed, and took his bearings. + </p> + <p> + He was not a patrician. Omar Ben eyed him in a sort of + wondering awe. The stranger was a long-barreled, + rumple-furred, devil-clawed street arab, of a caste—or + no-caste—that battles for existence with the + world—and beats it. 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. + </p> + <p> + To breathe the better, the street cat dropped his frog and + set one mangy paw upon it; then, suddenly, he spied the + Persian. + </p> + <p> + "Hello, bo!" he observed cheerfully. "Didn't see yer. Did yer + pipe me chase wid de yelper? Dat stilt-legged son of a + saw-toothed tyke has had his nose on me rudder-post fer + more'n a mile." + </p> + <p> + The Persian made no answer, and the arab continued, + unabashed: + </p> + <p> + "It's a hunch dat I could 'a' clawed de stuffin's outer him, + but I didn't want fer to lose me lunch. Say! Wot's yer name?" + </p> + <p> + Omar Ben regarded the interloper with the same glance of + refined surprise that the master might have employed when a + fleeced plebeian entered his office, demanding to know why + the market had slumped in direct contradiction to + confidential prophecy. He elevated his patrician brows, but + gave the desired information politely: + </p> + <p> + "My ribbon-name is Omar Ben Sufi, first-born of the second + litter of Yiki Zootra and Sultana Yaggi Kiz. Here at home, + however, I am known by a variety of others, such as <i>Mon + Prince de Manière Charmante</i>, Sugar-pie-precious, + and—" + </p> + <p> + "Aw, cut it!" snapped the street cat disgustedly. "Dem ain't + no decent names! D'ey's positive ridick'lous! <i>Mine's</i> + Ringtail Pete, but me frien's has reasons fer fergittin' de + tail part of it when dey names me to me face—see?" + </p> + <p> + He smiled his twisted smile, raised one paw, and regarded its + claws with a sort of humorous pride. + </p> + <p> + The Persian cat said nothing. Ringtail Pete was obviously an + undesirable acquaintance; therefore Omar Ben held his tongue, + and became interested in the bullfrog. Curiosity, however, + conquered refined reserve. + </p> + <p> + "What is it?" he asked presently. + </p> + <p> + "Frawg," said the street cat, with laconic candor, as he + gracefully mauled the subject of discussion. "I gets 'em over + to the frawg-pawnd up back of Lumkins's tannery. Have a + piece?" + </p> + <p> + "Thank you, no," returned the Persian, with a faint smile of + his own. "I've just had luncheon." + </p> + <p> + Pete shrugged his gaunt shoulders, murdered the frog, and + prepared to dispose of it permanently. Omar Ben edged closer. + In spite of his polite refusal, the frog fascinated him. + Never in all his benighted life had he tasted one morsel + which had not been prepared for him on dainty china; but now + it was different. Across the geranium-bed came a strange, + alluring scent—a scent which roused the memory of + inheritance—a memory well-nigh washed out of him, and + his sire before him, by the bottle-pap of luxury. A memory it + was of wild things, to be killed—a blood-lust + memory—and now at last it woke in a pampered, + velvet-hearted cat. + </p> + <p> + Ringtail Pete was conscious of the other's wistful look, and + laughed; for his battle with life had taught him generosity. + </p> + <p> + "Say, bo, yer don't want to do de + bashful—see?—'cause me 'n' you is gents what + understands de game er chanst. Here—take holt an' chaw + yerse'f off a hunk!" + </p> + <p> + The aristocrat hesitated, then slid down one rung on the + ladder of degradation—pushed by blood-lust and by the + strange compelling <i>camaraderie</i> of an arab of the + streets. It was wrong, he knew, but then there was a certain + flavor in this wrong; so, gingerly, he crossed the + geranium-bed, took one web foot firmly between his teeth, and + wondered at the thrill of life that sparked and snapped along + his spine. Then Pete and Omar Ben tugged and tugged, till the + clean geranium-bed was a comfortable, wholesome wreck. + </p> + <p> + "Hully gee!" grinned Ringtail Pete. "We otter make a wish!" + </p> + <p> + They made it, and the metaphoric wish-bone parted with a + jerk, Omar Ben rolling upon his lordly back in the healthy + dirt; but he rose and devoured his frog-leg to its smallest + bone, wishing with all his heart that the frog had been a + bigger frog. Then he licked his chops and looked in + admiration on his worldly friend. + </p> + <p> + "Thank you, <i>so</i> much," he began, but the arab waved + formality aside. + </p> + <p> + "Aw, 't wan't nuttin'," he declared, "an' dey tastes a darn + sight better when yer wades fer 'em. Say! Look-a-here! You + meet me to-night on de top er dis here wall, an' I'll learn + yer how to wade fer frawgs." + </p> + <p> + "Oh, dear!" began the Persian, trembling at the very mention + of the outer world. "Really, Mr. Pete, I—really—" + </p> + <p> + "Punk!" cut in the arab, dismissing the protest with a switch + of his mutilated tail. "I won't take 'naw' fer a answer; an' + dis here's de way fer to jump yer wealthy crib. You watch + me!" + </p> + <p> + He backed away, then took a running start and made the coping + of the wall in a splendid, scurrying rush, amid a shower of + scattered ivy-leaves. On the top he turned and called to the + wondering aristocrat: + </p> + <p> + "Jes' wait fer me an' de moon, me son, an' dontcher fergit + dat frawgs is frawgs!" + </p> + <p> + Once more he smiled his twisted smile, and was gone into the + vulgar outer world. He had not waited for a promise from his + friend, for Pete was wise in his little hour of life and left + the keeping of a tryst with the honor of a gentleman. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <h3> + II + </h3> + <p> + As for Omar Ben, he sat in the healthy grime of the garden + soil, his mind a prey to the poison of glittering promises, + till suddenly a human fell upon him with an absurd French + shriek and bore him away to the lap of comfort and a scented + bath. + </p> + <p> + In the bath he yowled; and wept when another lavender bow was + tied about his neck; and yet, had Mlle. Frenchy observed him + carefully, she might have caught him smiling. + </p> + <p> + All day long he dozed and dreamed—dreamed of the vulgar + world beyond the wall—for now it seemed to his pampered + soul that the pole star of an earthly cat's desire was + "frawgs." + </p> + <p> + At the humans' dinner-time he scorned their expensive fare + and sneaked away into the shadows of the garden to wait for + Ringtail Pete and the rising of the moon. It rose; and, as it + peeped above the wall, there also rose a cautious + signal-wail, and Pete's one eye glowed green among the + ivy-vines. + </p> + <p> + "Hi, spote!" grinned the owner of the eye, as Omar Ben clawed + his way to a perch beside him. "Yer clumb dat wall in a way + dat make me proud. Now, den, we're off!" + </p> + <p> + They dropped into the outer world. Omar Ben was trembling + somewhat, but tried his best to conceal the mortifying fact, + and presently he conquered it. After walking for a quarter of + a mile along a country road, they approached the outskirts of + the town and began to cross it, employing unfrequented paths. + They traversed an alley, black and reeking with nightly + smells, pausing at last on the verge of a lighted street + whence rose the sound of human mirth, bits of vulgar song, + and the barking of vagrant dogs. + </p> + <p> + "S-h-h-h!" cautioned Ringtail. "You wait till I counts to + t'ree, den make a rush fer de alley acrost de + street—see?" + </p> + <p> + "But, why?" asked Omar Ben, wondering. + </p> + <p> + Pete sniffed in scorn of the uninitiated. + </p> + <p> + "Well, nemmine why! You do like I tells yer, or yer'll git + yer eggercation wid a brick. Now den! + One—two—t'ree! Hump it, bo!" + </p> + <p> + They humped it, making the other alley's mouth by a margin + slim indeed, followed by human howls and a clattering volley + of sticks and stones. + </p> + <p> + "Good gracious!" the Persian gasped, as they streaked through + the alley's filth. "What <i>are</i> they?" + </p> + <p> + "Boys," grinned Pete. "De town is gittin' fair congested wid + 'em. But 'tain't nuttin', son; it's jes' a part er de game er + life. Come on." + </p> + <p> + The way was easier now, and they journeyed without alarm. + Presently Ringtail turned to his friend with his twisted + smile: + </p> + <p> + "Yer see dat lady settin' on de gate-post? Well, dat's me + steady. I'll interjuce yer in a minute." + </p> + <p> + The lady in question was a thin, dirty white cat with bold + eyes and a brazen bearing, and Omar Ben was doubtful of her + caste. + </p> + <p> + "Thank you," he murmured non-committally, and hurried on; but + the meeting was unavoidable, for the lady crossed the street + and stood directly in his path. + </p> + <p> + "Hi, Mame!" said Pete, in cordial greeting. "Shake hands wid + me friend, Mr.—er—aw hell! Shake hands wid bo!" + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "Now, don't git phony, Mame!" he remarked in a gentle + whisper. "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. So long, Mame! Remember dat I loves yer!" + </p> + <p> + With a partly mollified sniff, the lady retired to her + gate-post, and the two adventurers went on. They came to the + evil-smelling tannery, and to the frog-pond just behind it, + stretching cold and still in the moonlight, and covered with + a noxious, slimy scum. It was horribly different from the + Persian's usual baths, but, once in he forgot its chill in + the lust of the hunt. + </p> + <p> + They waded and swam and scrambled along the shore, Ringtail + pointing out that frogs were wont to crouch close down by the + water's edge in the shadow of some bush or vine. + </p> + <p> + "Dere's one!" he whispered suddenly. "Now, sneak up, son, an' + grab 'im!" + </p> + <p> + Quivering with suppressed excitement, Omar Ben sneaked, but + mistook the especial frog to which his friend had reference. + Instead, he pounced upon a big yellow-throated beast weighing + a pound and a half, and known colloquially as a + "sockdolliger" or a "joogger-room." There followed a + scuffling rush, a grunt, a startled yowl, and a swirl of + water; then Omar Ben came up coughing, minus his frog, but + plus an overcoat of mud and disappointment. + </p> + <p> + "Great snakes!" yelled Pete. "Ain't yer got no gumption 't + all? Ef I had knowed yer wanted ter eat a cow, I'd 'a' took + you up to de slaughter-house! Go fer de little ones, bo. Yer + don't gain nuttin' by bein' a hawg. Take it from + me—it's straight!" + </p> + <p> + "Bo" went for the little ones. He had learned his lesson of + experience, and profited thereby. He made his virgin kill and + devoured it, squatting in the muddy pond, while around him + rose the voices of the wild things of the night; and never + had morsel tasted sweeter to his pampered tongue. And so the + hunt went on, a never-to-be-forgotten hunt, when crawfish + nipped their tails, when insects preyed upon their eyes, and + they dripped with the sweat of joyful toil; then, presently, + the friends stretched out upon the bank, weary and replete. + </p> + <p> + "Say, bo," said Ringtail, after a restful pause, "what do yer + say to a nip?" + </p> + <p> + "A nip?" asked Omar Ben in astonishment. "What kind of a + nip?" + </p> + <p> + "W'y, a catnip, yer bloomin' bladderskite! Wot did yer t'ink + I meant—a cornder of de moon? I'm talkin' 'bout jes' + straight catnip. Are you on?" + </p> + <p> + "Yes, certainly," returned the Persian gravely. "I am on!" + </p> + <p> + On the homeward way they turned into a lane and came to a + clump of catnip. True, Omar Ben had tasted the herb before, + but dry and in five-cent packages, which was different from + the pure article direct from nature's still and exuding its + sharp, intoxicating breath. Pete and Omar fell upon it + greedily, rolled upon it, wallowed among the scattered + leaves, and chewed and chewed till their senses swam in a + spirit-dance of ecstasy. Then, after a nap, the two reeled + homeward down the road, Pete smiling his twisted smile, and + Omar Ben Sufi wrapped in the comforting belief that he was + singing tunefully. + </p> + <p> + "Say, R.T.," the Persian chuckled happily, "what did you say + was the name of your lady friend's other lady friend?" + </p> + <p> + "Lizzie," answered Ringtail, astounded at the tone of + familiarity; "an' take it from me she's white!" + </p> + <p> + "In color, do you mean?" + </p> + <p> + "Naw—in disposition. Outside, she's kind of striped, + but inside, de lady's white; an' don't yer fergit it, bo, + she's de owner of four good sets of claws. + </p> + <p> + "Thank you," said Omar Ben airily. "I shall endeavor to + remember. Come along, R.T.!" + </p> + <p> + Pete objected somewhat to this pointed abbreviation of his + name, but forgave his friend on the grounds that he was + drunk; so the two went on and sought their rendezvous. The + ladies were waiting, seated expectantly on the gate-posts, + but descended at Ringtail's call, and the "swell gent" was + formally introduced. Miss Lizzie seemed to like him + immensely, and the two progressed so well that Ringtail + stretched his single eye to its utmost capacity, cursing + softly at his friend's unprecedented cheek. For Omar + Ben—thanks to his nip of catnip—so far forgot his + strained reserve that Miss Lizzie herself said afterward to a + friend, in confidence: + </p> + <p> + "I never <i>see</i> sech a <i>forward</i> gent sence me 'n' + you was a couple er half-way-drownded kits!" + </p> + <p> + The flirtation, however, was short-lived, for suddenly, + without an instant's warning, Miss Lizzie, Miss Mame, and + Pete himself went clawing up a water-pipe to a convenient + roof above, while down the street came floating a shrill, + defiant yowl. + </p> + <p> + "Chase yerse'f, bo!" called Pete in a voice of fear. "It's + Ash-Can Sam!" + </p> + <p> + Now, Ash-Can Sam had a reputation of his own, as every cat in + the neighborhood could testify with sorrow and with tears. He + weighed eleven pounds. He kept himself in training; and, + where others lived for love or wealth or art, Ash-Can Sam + existed for a finish fight alone. At the present speaking he + came swaggering around a corner, and paused in astonishment + at the sight of a stranger sitting in the middle of the + street. The insolence of it! It was past belief! + </p> + <p> + "Oh, please, Mr. 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 <i>my</i> sake, + dearie, <i>won't</i> you slope?" + </p> + <p> + "No, not upon your life!" called Omar Ben gravely. "I will + not demean myself by retreating from any cat alive." + </p> + <p> + 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: + </p> + <p> + "W'y, you chowder-headed ass, he'll make yer look like a + moth-et flannel shirt! <i>Beat it</i>!" + </p> + <p> + The patrician declined to "beat it," and Ash-Can Sam edged a + little closer, wearing a dissolute, wicked leer of joy. He + circled slowly round the stranger cat, eying Omar Ben's + glossy coat and humming a sort of vulgar chant: + </p> + <pre> + Ain't it a sham-m-m-m-e! + To chaw up mommer's sugar-pet, + An' hurt his nose, not soon, but yet. + Oh, ain't it a sham-m-m-m-e! +</pre> + <p> + Omar Ben regarded the bully in calm scorn. "You disreputable + beast," he said, "shut up!" + </p> + <p> + Sam, in no uncertain terms, stated his unwillingness to shut + up, and the conversation became personal. + </p> + <p> + "Yer blink-eyed yard er silk, I'm a goin' to turn you + cat-out-the-skin an' sell yer tail fer a fancy + dustin'-brush!" + </p> + <p> + "Bosh! You'd run from a pet canary." + </p> + <p> + "You're a liar!" + </p> + <p> + "You're another!" + </p> + <p> + "So's yer pa an' so's yer mother!" + </p> + <p> + "<i>Pfst! Zzz-i-ttt! Y-eo-w!</i>" + </p> + <p> + And the battle was on. + </p> + <p> + "Oh, dear!" mewed Lizzie tearfully. "An' Mr. Bo was sech a + easy-mannered gent'man, too!" + </p> + <p> + Sub-consciously, she was already referring to the foolish + Persian in the past tense; yet, in view of probable results, + and in the stress of such violent circumstance, her + anti-mortem sorrow might at least be pardoned. + </p> + <p> + Omar Ben had never had a fight, and yet the memory of + inheritance had waked within him, revealing other traits + besides his yearning for debauchery and "frawgs"; so now he + squared himself and uncurled his velvet toes. + </p> + <p> + Ash-Can Sam crouched low and came in with a headlong rush. + Omar Ben side-stepped and raked him with a stiffly extended + paw. It was a good rake, and there was fur upon his + claws—and blood. + </p> + <p> + "Hully gee!" breathed Pete into Mame's convenient ear. "Did + yer pipe de way bo upper-cut 'im? Gee!" + </p> + <p> + Ash-Can Sam was wounded—not so much in body as in + pugilistic pride. He turned to wipe away the stain, and, + incidentally, to wipe the earth with the body of a foreign + cat. This time he came in, swearing, and the two cats reared + upon their haunches with the shock; then fell in a tangled, + rending, yowling snarl. Omar Ben, by instinctive craft, + sought for a point of vantage underneath his foe—a + vantage because, when lying on his back, he could claw + straight up with all four feet, and the greater the weight of + the chap on top, the greater his woe—abdominally. + </p> + <p> + This point of vantage, however, is rather difficult to hold, + with two most earnest gentlemen desirous of it; and so they + changed positions—changed so rapidly, in fact, that + their bodies resembled a sort of pyrotechnic pinwheel whose + centrifugal sparks were composed of eyes and claws and tufts + of fur and cat profanity. Also, it lasted longer than the + ordinary pinwheel, and was a trifle more uproarious; but it + died at last with a sizzling spit, and a lean black streak + shot out toward the haven of an alley's mouth. + </p> + <p> + The streak was Ash-Can Sam. Omar Ben Sufi sat down in the + middle of the street, and wondered. He had thrashed + something, and he didn't understand it. So he just sat there, + quivering, bleeding, battered—but a conqueror. + </p> + <p> + Ringtail Pete endeavored to express himself, but emotion + choked him; therefore he spat fervidly and said: + </p> + <p> + "Hully gee!" + </p> + <p> + Then he and the ladies descended from the roof, to walk in + silent circles around the champion, regarding him with a + species of cataleptic awe. Presently, however, Pete came to + earth, extended his paw, and delivered himself of an + established truth: + </p> + <p> + "Well, dang my hide, but it takes er 'ristercrat fer to + glitter in a scrap!" + </p> + <p> + They escorted him all the way to his eighty-thousand-dollar + home. The ladies kissed him—both of them—and + helped him to clamber weakly over his garden wall. + </p> + <p> + He turned to Ringtail with an easy, aristocratic smile: + "<i>Au revoir,</i> R.T.! Those frawgs were most delicious!" + </p> + <p> + "Hully gee!" breathed Pete, and disappeared through the dusk + of the outer world. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <h3> + III + </h3> + <p> + Now, in the eighty-thousand-dollar cottage black sorrow + reigned throughout the night. There were tears and linguistic + prayers. 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + Poor Omar Ben was a sight to awaken pity, even in the + stoniest of hearts. The number of his hairs could be counted, + almost, by plus and minus tufts; one eye was closed; his + splendid tail was bent in several angles unrecognized by the + rules of art, and he smelled of the outer + world—horribly. + </p> + <p> + His mistress expressed her grief in a noiseless, refined + whimper of despair; the French maid shrieked, and called on + Heaven to witness the devastation of her every hope; but the + master—who had lived, in spite of his Wall Street + training—laughed. + </p> + <p> + "Nonsense!" said he. "You are squandering your sympathies + upon a shameless prodigal. The beast has had the time of his + life, by George!" + </p> + <p> + "Oh, Charles, how <i>can</i> you?" wailed the mistress of the + priceless cat. "Can't you see how the precious child is + suffering?" + </p> + <p> + Again the master laughed—laughed brutally. + </p> + <p> + "Of course he's suffering, my dear—but look at the + smile on him!" + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <hr> +<BR> +<BR> +<BR> +<BR> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Night Out, by Edward Peple + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A NIGHT OUT *** + +***** This file should be named 9295-h.htm or 9295-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/9/2/9/9295/ + +Produced by Mary Meehan, Juliet Sutherland, David Garcia, +and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading +Team + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: A Night Out + +Author: Edward Peple + +Posting Date: June 14, 2013 [EBook #9295] +Release Date: November, 2005 +First Posted: September 17, 2003 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A NIGHT OUT *** + + + + +Produced by Mary Meehan, Juliet Sutherland, David Garcia, +and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading +Team + + + + + + + + + + + +A NIGHT OUT + +BY EDWARD PEPLE + +_Frontispiece by_ R.L. GOLDBERG + + + + + + +[Illustration: "The Beast has had the time of his life."] + + + + +I + + +Omar Ben Sufi was a cat. This unadorned statement would have wounded Omar +Ben to the marrow of his pride, for he chanced to be a splendid +tiger-marked feline of purest Persian breed, with glorious yellow eyes +and a Solomon-in-all-his-glory tail. His pedigree could be traced +directly back to Padisha Zim Yuki Yowsi Zind--a dignity, in itself, +sufficient to cause an aristocratic languor; but, to the layman, he was +just a cat. + +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. + +The master did not toil. He lived, for certain hours of the day, in Wall +Street, where he sank his patrician fingers into the throats of lesser +men, squeezed them dry, then washed his hands in violet water, and built +a church. True, he did not attend this church himself, but he built it; +otherwise his neighbors might have been deprived of the opportunity of +praising God. + +Omar Ben had a French maid all to himself--a perky little human with a +quasi-kinship to the feline race--who combed him and brushed him and +slicked him down and gave him endless, mortifying baths. Also, she tied +lavender bows about his neck, and fed him from Dresden china on minute +particles of flaked fish and raw sirloin, with a dessert of pasteurized +cream. + +In the rear of the eighty-thousand-dollar cottage there was a +thirty-thousand-dollar flower-garden--an oppressively clean garden, where +the big Jack-roses were as immaculate as a "mama's Lizzie-boy," and the +well-bred, timid little violets seemed to long to play in the dirt, yet +dared not because of the master-rule of "form." And here the clean cat +used to sun himself in the clean garden, thinking his clean thoughts and +perishing of _ennui_ clean through. + +Then, one day, from the vulgar outer world came an unclean incident. + +Omar Ben became conscious of an uproar beyond the garden wall. It +embraced a whimper of canine hope, a spitting taunt, and the patter of +flying paws; then, suddenly, on the top of the high brick wall appeared a +cat. The newcomer paused an instant to fling an obscene _au revoir_ at +the raging, disappointed dog, dropped carelessly down into a +geranium-bed, and took his bearings. + +He was not a patrician. Omar Ben eyed him in a sort of wondering awe. The +stranger was a long-barreled, rumple-furred, devil-clawed street arab, +of a caste--or no-caste--that battles for existence with the world--and +beats it. 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. + +"Hello, bo!" he observed cheerfully. "Didn't see yer. Did yer pipe me +chase wid de yelper? Dat stilt-legged son of a saw-toothed tyke has had +his nose on me rudder-post fer more'n a mile." + +The Persian made no answer, and the arab continued, unabashed: + +"It's a hunch dat I could 'a' clawed de stuffin's outer him, but I didn't +want fer to lose me lunch. Say! Wot's yer name?" + +Omar Ben regarded the interloper with the same glance of refined surprise +that the master might have employed when a fleeced plebeian entered his +office, demanding to know why the market had slumped in direct +contradiction to confidential prophecy. He elevated his patrician brows, +but gave the desired information politely: + +"My ribbon-name is Omar Ben Sufi, first-born of the second litter of Yiki +Zootra and Sultana Yaggi Kiz. Here at home, however, I am known by a +variety of others, such as _Mon Prince de Maniere Charmante_, +Sugar-pie-precious, and--" + +"Aw, cut it!" snapped the street cat disgustedly. "Dem ain't no decent +names! D'ey's positive ridick'lous! _Mine's_ Ringtail Pete, but me +frien's has reasons fer fergittin' de tail part of it when dey names me +to me face--see?" + +He smiled his twisted smile, raised one paw, and regarded its claws with +a sort of humorous pride. + +The Persian cat said nothing. Ringtail Pete was obviously an undesirable +acquaintance; therefore Omar Ben held his tongue, and became interested +in the bullfrog. Curiosity, however, conquered refined reserve. + +"What is it?" he asked presently. + +"Frawg," said the street cat, with laconic candor, as he gracefully +mauled the subject of discussion. "I gets 'em over to the frawg-pawnd up +back of Lumkins's tannery. Have a piece?" + +"Thank you, no," returned the Persian, with a faint smile of his own. +"I've just had luncheon." + +Pete shrugged his gaunt shoulders, murdered the frog, and prepared to +dispose of it permanently. Omar Ben edged closer. In spite of his polite +refusal, the frog fascinated him. Never in all his benighted life had he +tasted one morsel which had not been prepared for him on dainty china; +but now it was different. Across the geranium-bed came a strange, +alluring scent--a scent which roused the memory of inheritance--a memory +well-nigh washed out of him, and his sire before him, by the bottle-pap +of luxury. A memory it was of wild things, to be killed--a blood-lust +memory--and now at last it woke in a pampered, velvet-hearted cat. + +Ringtail Pete was conscious of the other's wistful look, and laughed; for +his battle with life had taught him generosity. + +"Say, bo, yer don't want to do de bashful--see?--'cause me 'n' you is +gents what understands de game er chanst. Here--take holt an' chaw +yerse'f off a hunk!" + +The aristocrat hesitated, then slid down one rung on the ladder of +degradation--pushed by blood-lust and by the strange compelling +_camaraderie_ of an arab of the streets. It was wrong, he knew, but then +there was a certain flavor in this wrong; so, gingerly, he crossed the +geranium-bed, took one web foot firmly between his teeth, and wondered at +the thrill of life that sparked and snapped along his spine. Then Pete +and Omar Ben tugged and tugged, till the clean geranium-bed was a +comfortable, wholesome wreck. + +"Hully gee!" grinned Ringtail Pete. "We otter make a wish!" + +They made it, and the metaphoric wish-bone parted with a jerk, Omar Ben +rolling upon his lordly back in the healthy dirt; but he rose and +devoured his frog-leg to its smallest bone, wishing with all his heart +that the frog had been a bigger frog. Then he licked his chops and looked +in admiration on his worldly friend. + +"Thank you, _so_ much," he began, but the arab waved formality aside. + +"Aw, 't wan't nuttin'," he declared, "an' dey tastes a darn sight better +when yer wades fer 'em. Say! Look-a-here! You meet me to-night on de top +er dis here wall, an' I'll learn yer how to wade fer frawgs." + +"Oh, dear!" began the Persian, trembling at the very mention of the outer +world. "Really, Mr. Pete, I--really--" + +"Punk!" cut in the arab, dismissing the protest with a switch of his +mutilated tail. "I won't take 'naw' fer a answer; an' dis here's de way +fer to jump yer wealthy crib. You watch me!" + +He backed away, then took a running start and made the coping of the +wall in a splendid, scurrying rush, amid a shower of scattered +ivy-leaves. On the top he turned and called to the wondering aristocrat: + +"Jes' wait fer me an' de moon, me son, an' dontcher fergit dat frawgs +is frawgs!" + +Once more he smiled his twisted smile, and was gone into the vulgar outer +world. He had not waited for a promise from his friend, for Pete was wise +in his little hour of life and left the keeping of a tryst with the honor +of a gentleman. + + + + +II + + +As for Omar Ben, he sat in the healthy grime of the garden soil, his mind +a prey to the poison of glittering promises, till suddenly a human fell +upon him with an absurd French shriek and bore him away to the lap of +comfort and a scented bath. + +In the bath he yowled; and wept when another lavender bow was tied about +his neck; and yet, had Mlle. Frenchy observed him carefully, she might +have caught him smiling. + +All day long he dozed and dreamed--dreamed of the vulgar world beyond +the wall--for now it seemed to his pampered soul that the pole star of an +earthly cat's desire was "frawgs." + +At the humans' dinner-time he scorned their expensive fare and sneaked +away into the shadows of the garden to wait for Ringtail Pete and the +rising of the moon. It rose; and, as it peeped above the wall, there also +rose a cautious signal-wail, and Pete's one eye glowed green among the +ivy-vines. + +"Hi, spote!" grinned the owner of the eye, as Omar Ben clawed his way to +a perch beside him. "Yer clumb dat wall in a way dat make me proud. Now, +den, we're off!" + +They dropped into the outer world. Omar Ben was trembling somewhat, but +tried his best to conceal the mortifying fact, and presently he conquered +it. After walking for a quarter of a mile along a country road, they +approached the outskirts of the town and began to cross it, employing +unfrequented paths. They traversed an alley, black and reeking with +nightly smells, pausing at last on the verge of a lighted street whence +rose the sound of human mirth, bits of vulgar song, and the barking of +vagrant dogs. + +"S-h-h-h!" cautioned Ringtail. "You wait till I counts to t'ree, den +make a rush fer de alley acrost de street--see?" + +"But, why?" asked Omar Ben, wondering. + +Pete sniffed in scorn of the uninitiated. + +"Well, nemmine why! You do like I tells yer, or yer'll git yer +eggercation wid a brick. Now den! One--two--t'ree! Hump it, bo!" + +They humped it, making the other alley's mouth by a margin slim indeed, +followed by human howls and a clattering volley of sticks and stones. + +"Good gracious!" the Persian gasped, as they streaked through the +alley's filth. "What _are_ they?" + +"Boys," grinned Pete. "De town is gittin' fair congested wid 'em. But +'tain't nuttin', son; it's jes' a part er de game er life. Come on." + +The way was easier now, and they journeyed without alarm. Presently +Ringtail turned to his friend with his twisted smile: + +"Yer see dat lady settin' on de gate-post? Well, dat's me steady. I'll +interjuce yer in a minute." + +The lady in question was a thin, dirty white cat with bold eyes and a +brazen bearing, and Omar Ben was doubtful of her caste. + +"Thank you," he murmured non-committally, and hurried on; but the +meeting was unavoidable, for the lady crossed the street and stood +directly in his path. + +"Hi, Mame!" said Pete, in cordial greeting. "Shake hands wid me friend, +Mr.--er--aw hell! Shake hands wid bo!" + +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. + +"Now, don't git phony, Mame!" he remarked in a gentle whisper. "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. +So long, Mame! Remember dat I loves yer!" + +With a partly mollified sniff, the lady retired to her gate-post, and the +two adventurers went on. They came to the evil-smelling tannery, and to +the frog-pond just behind it, stretching cold and still in the moonlight, +and covered with a noxious, slimy scum. It was horribly different from +the Persian's usual baths, but, once in he forgot its chill in the lust +of the hunt. + +They waded and swam and scrambled along the shore, Ringtail pointing out +that frogs were wont to crouch close down by the water's edge in the +shadow of some bush or vine. + +"Dere's one!" he whispered suddenly. "Now, sneak up, son, an' grab 'im!" + +Quivering with suppressed excitement, Omar Ben sneaked, but mistook the +especial frog to which his friend had reference. Instead, he pounced upon +a big yellow-throated beast weighing a pound and a half, and known +colloquially as a "sockdolliger" or a "joogger-room." There followed a +scuffling rush, a grunt, a startled yowl, and a swirl of water; then Omar +Ben came up coughing, minus his frog, but plus an overcoat of mud and +disappointment. + +"Great snakes!" yelled Pete. "Ain't yer got no gumption 't all? Ef I had +knowed yer wanted ter eat a cow, I'd 'a' took you up to de +slaughter-house! Go fer de little ones, bo. Yer don't gain nuttin' by +bein' a hawg. Take it from me--it's straight!" + +"Bo" went for the little ones. He had learned his lesson of experience, +and profited thereby. He made his virgin kill and devoured it, squatting +in the muddy pond, while around him rose the voices of the wild things of +the night; and never had morsel tasted sweeter to his pampered tongue. +And so the hunt went on, a never-to-be-forgotten hunt, when crawfish +nipped their tails, when insects preyed upon their eyes, and they dripped +with the sweat of joyful toil; then, presently, the friends stretched out +upon the bank, weary and replete. + +"Say, bo," said Ringtail, after a restful pause, "what do yer say to a +nip?" + +"A nip?" asked Omar Ben in astonishment. "What kind of a nip?" + +"W'y, a catnip, yer bloomin' bladderskite! Wot did yer t'ink I meant--a +cornder of de moon? I'm talkin' 'bout jes' straight catnip. Are you on?" + +"Yes, certainly," returned the Persian gravely. "I am on!" + +On the homeward way they turned into a lane and came to a clump of +catnip. True, Omar Ben had tasted the herb before, but dry and in +five-cent packages, which was different from the pure article direct from +nature's still and exuding its sharp, intoxicating breath. Pete and Omar +fell upon it greedily, rolled upon it, wallowed among the scattered +leaves, and chewed and chewed till their senses swam in a spirit-dance of +ecstasy. Then, after a nap, the two reeled homeward down the road, Pete +smiling his twisted smile, and Omar Ben Sufi wrapped in the comforting +belief that he was singing tunefully. + +"Say, R.T.," the Persian chuckled happily, "what did you say was the name +of your lady friend's other lady friend?" + +"Lizzie," answered Ringtail, astounded at the tone of familiarity; "an' +take it from me she's white!" + +"In color, do you mean?" + +"Naw--in disposition. Outside, she's kind of striped, but inside, de +lady's white; an' don't yer fergit it, bo, she's de owner of four good +sets of claws. + +"Thank you," said Omar Ben airily. "I shall endeavor to remember. Come +along, R.T.!" + +Pete objected somewhat to this pointed abbreviation of his name, but +forgave his friend on the grounds that he was drunk; so the two went on +and sought their rendezvous. The ladies were waiting, seated expectantly +on the gate-posts, but descended at Ringtail's call, and the "swell gent" +was formally introduced. Miss Lizzie seemed to like him immensely, and +the two progressed so well that Ringtail stretched his single eye to its +utmost capacity, cursing softly at his friend's unprecedented cheek. For +Omar Ben--thanks to his nip of catnip--so far forgot his strained reserve +that Miss Lizzie herself said afterward to a friend, in confidence: + +"I never _see_ sech a _forward_ gent sence me 'n' you was a couple er +half-way-drownded kits!" + +The flirtation, however, was short-lived, for suddenly, without an +instant's warning, Miss Lizzie, Miss Mame, and Pete himself went clawing +up a water-pipe to a convenient roof above, while down the street came +floating a shrill, defiant yowl. + +"Chase yerse'f, bo!" called Pete in a voice of fear. "It's Ash-Can Sam!" + +Now, Ash-Can Sam had a reputation of his own, as every cat in the +neighborhood could testify with sorrow and with tears. He weighed eleven +pounds. He kept himself in training; and, where others lived for love or +wealth or art, Ash-Can Sam existed for a finish fight alone. At the +present speaking he came swaggering around a corner, and paused in +astonishment at the sight of a stranger sitting in the middle of the +street. The insolence of it! It was past belief! + +"Oh, please, Mr. 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_!" + +The patrician declined to "beat it," and Ash-Can Sam edged a little +closer, wearing a dissolute, wicked leer of joy. He circled slowly round +the stranger cat, eying Omar Ben's glossy coat and humming a sort of +vulgar chant: + + Ain't it a sham-m-m-m-e! + To chaw up mommer's sugar-pet, + An' hurt his nose, not soon, but yet. + Oh, ain't it a sham-m-m-m-e! + +Omar Ben regarded the bully in calm scorn. "You disreputable beast," he +said, "shut up!" + +Sam, in no uncertain terms, stated his unwillingness to shut up, and the +conversation became personal. + +"Yer blink-eyed yard er silk, I'm a goin' to turn you cat-out-the-skin +an' sell yer tail fer a fancy dustin'-brush!" + +"Bosh! You'd run from a pet canary." + +"You're a liar!" + +"You're another!" + +"So's yer pa an' so's yer mother!" + +"_Pfst! Zzz-i-ttt! Y-eo-w!_" + +And the battle was on. + +"Oh, dear!" mewed Lizzie tearfully. "An' Mr. Bo was sech a easy-mannered +gent'man, too!" + +Sub-consciously, she was already referring to the foolish Persian in the +past tense; yet, in view of probable results, and in the stress of such +violent circumstance, her anti-mortem sorrow might at least be pardoned. + +Omar Ben had never had a fight, and yet the memory of inheritance had +waked within him, revealing other traits besides his yearning for +debauchery and "frawgs"; so now he squared himself and uncurled his +velvet toes. + +Ash-Can Sam crouched low and came in with a headlong rush. Omar Ben +side-stepped and raked him with a stiffly extended paw. It was a good +rake, and there was fur upon his claws--and blood. + +"Hully gee!" breathed Pete into Mame's convenient ear. "Did yer pipe de +way bo upper-cut 'im? Gee!" + +Ash-Can Sam was wounded--not so much in body as in pugilistic pride. He +turned to wipe away the stain, and, incidentally, to wipe the earth with +the body of a foreign cat. This time he came in, swearing, and the two +cats reared upon their haunches with the shock; then fell in a tangled, +rending, yowling snarl. Omar Ben, by instinctive craft, sought for a +point of vantage underneath his foe--a vantage because, when lying on his +back, he could claw straight up with all four feet, and the greater the +weight of the chap on top, the greater his woe--abdominally. + +This point of vantage, however, is rather difficult to hold, with two +most earnest gentlemen desirous of it; and so they changed +positions--changed so rapidly, in fact, that their bodies resembled a +sort of pyrotechnic pinwheel whose centrifugal sparks were composed of +eyes and claws and tufts of fur and cat profanity. Also, it lasted longer +than the ordinary pinwheel, and was a trifle more uproarious; but it died +at last with a sizzling spit, and a lean black streak shot out toward the +haven of an alley's mouth. + +The streak was Ash-Can Sam. Omar Ben Sufi sat down in the middle of the +street, and wondered. He had thrashed something, and he didn't understand +it. So he just sat there, quivering, bleeding, battered--but a conqueror. + +Ringtail Pete endeavored to express himself, but emotion choked him; +therefore he spat fervidly and said: + +"Hully gee!" + +Then he and the ladies descended from the roof, to walk in silent circles +around the champion, regarding him with a species of cataleptic awe. +Presently, however, Pete came to earth, extended his paw, and delivered +himself of an established truth: + +"Well, dang my hide, but it takes er 'ristercrat fer to glitter in a +scrap!" + +They escorted him all the way to his eighty-thousand-dollar home. The +ladies kissed him--both of them--and helped him to clamber weakly over +his garden wall. + +He turned to Ringtail with an easy, aristocratic smile: "_Au revoir,_ +R.T.! Those frawgs were most delicious!" + +"Hully gee!" breathed Pete, and disappeared through the dusk of the +outer world. + + + + +III + + +Now, in the eighty-thousand-dollar cottage black sorrow reigned +throughout the night. There were tears and linguistic prayers. 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. + +Poor Omar Ben was a sight to awaken pity, even in the stoniest of hearts. +The number of his hairs could be counted, almost, by plus and minus +tufts; one eye was closed; his splendid tail was bent in several angles +unrecognized by the rules of art, and he smelled of the outer +world--horribly. + +His mistress expressed her grief in a noiseless, refined whimper of +despair; the French maid shrieked, and called on Heaven to witness the +devastation of her every hope; but the master--who had lived, in spite of +his Wall Street training--laughed. + +"Nonsense!" said he. "You are squandering your sympathies upon a +shameless prodigal. The beast has had the time of his life, by George!" + +"Oh, Charles, how _can_ you?" wailed the mistress of the priceless cat. +"Can't you see how the precious child is suffering?" + +Again the master laughed--laughed brutally. + +"Of course he's suffering, my dear--but look at the smile on him!" + + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Night Out, by Edward Peple + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A NIGHT OUT *** + +***** This file should be named 9295.txt or 9295.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/9/2/9/9295/ + +Produced by Mary Meehan, Juliet Sutherland, David Garcia, +and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading +Team + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: A Night Out + +Author: Edward Peple + +Release Date: November, 2005 [EBook #9295] +[This file was first posted on September 17, 2003] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: US-ASCII + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, A NIGHT OUT *** + + + + +E-text prepared by Mary Meehan, Juliet Sutherland, David Garcia, and the +Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team + + + + + + + +A NIGHT OUT + +BY EDWARD PEPLE + +_Frontispiece by_ R.L. GOLDBERG + + + + + + +[Illustration: "The Beast has had the time of his life."] + + + + +I + + +Omar Ben Sufi was a cat. This unadorned statement would have wounded Omar +Ben to the marrow of his pride, for he chanced to be a splendid +tiger-marked feline of purest Persian breed, with glorious yellow eyes +and a Solomon-in-all-his-glory tail. His pedigree could be traced +directly back to Padisha Zim Yuki Yowsi Zind--a dignity, in itself, +sufficient to cause an aristocratic languor; but, to the layman, he was +just a cat. + +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. + +The master did not toil. He lived, for certain hours of the day, in Wall +Street, where he sank his patrician fingers into the throats of lesser +men, squeezed them dry, then washed his hands in violet water, and built +a church. True, he did not attend this church himself, but he built it; +otherwise his neighbors might have been deprived of the opportunity of +praising God. + +Omar Ben had a French maid all to himself--a perky little human with a +quasi-kinship to the feline race--who combed him and brushed him and +slicked him down and gave him endless, mortifying baths. Also, she tied +lavender bows about his neck, and fed him from Dresden china on minute +particles of flaked fish and raw sirloin, with a dessert of pasteurized +cream. + +In the rear of the eighty-thousand-dollar cottage there was a +thirty-thousand-dollar flower-garden--an oppressively clean garden, where +the big Jack-roses were as immaculate as a "mama's Lizzie-boy," and the +well-bred, timid little violets seemed to long to play in the dirt, yet +dared not because of the master-rule of "form." And here the clean cat +used to sun himself in the clean garden, thinking his clean thoughts and +perishing of _ennui_ clean through. + +Then, one day, from the vulgar outer world came an unclean incident. + +Omar Ben became conscious of an uproar beyond the garden wall. It +embraced a whimper of canine hope, a spitting taunt, and the patter of +flying paws; then, suddenly, on the top of the high brick wall appeared a +cat. The newcomer paused an instant to fling an obscene _au revoir_ at +the raging, disappointed dog, dropped carelessly down into a +geranium-bed, and took his bearings. + +He was not a patrician. Omar Ben eyed him in a sort of wondering awe. The +stranger was a long-barreled, rumple-furred, devil-clawed street arab, +of a caste--or no-caste--that battles for existence with the world--and +beats it. 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. + +"Hello, bo!" he observed cheerfully. "Didn't see yer. Did yer pipe me +chase wid de yelper? Dat stilt-legged son of a saw-toothed tyke has had +his nose on me rudder-post fer more'n a mile." + +The Persian made no answer, and the arab continued, unabashed: + +"It's a hunch dat I could 'a' clawed de stuffin's outer him, but I didn't +want fer to lose me lunch. Say! Wot's yer name?" + +Omar Ben regarded the interloper with the same glance of refined surprise +that the master might have employed when a fleeced plebeian entered his +office, demanding to know why the market had slumped in direct +contradiction to confidential prophecy. He elevated his patrician brows, +but gave the desired information politely: + +"My ribbon-name is Omar Ben Sufi, first-born of the second litter of Yiki +Zootra and Sultana Yaggi Kiz. Here at home, however, I am known by a +variety of others, such as _Mon Prince de Maniere Charmante_, +Sugar-pie-precious, and--" + +"Aw, cut it!" snapped the street cat disgustedly. "Dem ain't no decent +names! D'ey's positive ridick'lous! _Mine's_ Ringtail Pete, but me +frien's has reasons fer fergittin' de tail part of it when dey names me +to me face--see?" + +He smiled his twisted smile, raised one paw, and regarded its claws with +a sort of humorous pride. + +The Persian cat said nothing. Ringtail Pete was obviously an undesirable +acquaintance; therefore Omar Ben held his tongue, and became interested +in the bullfrog. Curiosity, however, conquered refined reserve. + +"What is it?" he asked presently. + +"Frawg," said the street cat, with laconic candor, as he gracefully +mauled the subject of discussion. "I gets 'em over to the frawg-pawnd up +back of Lumkins's tannery. Have a piece?" + +"Thank you, no," returned the Persian, with a faint smile of his own. +"I've just had luncheon." + +Pete shrugged his gaunt shoulders, murdered the frog, and prepared to +dispose of it permanently. Omar Ben edged closer. In spite of his polite +refusal, the frog fascinated him. Never in all his benighted life had he +tasted one morsel which had not been prepared for him on dainty china; +but now it was different. Across the geranium-bed came a strange, +alluring scent--a scent which roused the memory of inheritance--a memory +well-nigh washed out of him, and his sire before him, by the bottle-pap +of luxury. A memory it was of wild things, to be killed--a blood-lust +memory--and now at last it woke in a pampered, velvet-hearted cat. + +Ringtail Pete was conscious of the other's wistful look, and laughed; for +his battle with life had taught him generosity. + +"Say, bo, yer don't want to do de bashful--see?--'cause me 'n' you is +gents what understands de game er chanst. Here--take holt an' chaw +yerse'f off a hunk!" + +The aristocrat hesitated, then slid down one rung on the ladder of +degradation--pushed by blood-lust and by the strange compelling +_camaraderie_ of an arab of the streets. It was wrong, he knew, but then +there was a certain flavor in this wrong; so, gingerly, he crossed the +geranium-bed, took one web foot firmly between his teeth, and wondered at +the thrill of life that sparked and snapped along his spine. Then Pete +and Omar Ben tugged and tugged, till the clean geranium-bed was a +comfortable, wholesome wreck. + +"Hully gee!" grinned Ringtail Pete. "We otter make a wish!" + +They made it, and the metaphoric wish-bone parted with a jerk, Omar Ben +rolling upon his lordly back in the healthy dirt; but he rose and +devoured his frog-leg to its smallest bone, wishing with all his heart +that the frog had been a bigger frog. Then he licked his chops and looked +in admiration on his worldly friend. + +"Thank you, _so_ much," he began, but the arab waved formality aside. + +"Aw, 't wan't nuttin'," he declared, "an' dey tastes a darn sight better +when yer wades fer 'em. Say! Look-a-here! You meet me to-night on de top +er dis here wall, an' I'll learn yer how to wade fer frawgs." + +"Oh, dear!" began the Persian, trembling at the very mention of the outer +world. "Really, Mr. Pete, I--really--" + +"Punk!" cut in the arab, dismissing the protest with a switch of his +mutilated tail. "I won't take 'naw' fer a answer; an' dis here's de way +fer to jump yer wealthy crib. You watch me!" + +He backed away, then took a running start and made the coping of the +wall in a splendid, scurrying rush, amid a shower of scattered +ivy-leaves. On the top he turned and called to the wondering aristocrat: + +"Jes' wait fer me an' de moon, me son, an' dontcher fergit dat frawgs +is frawgs!" + +Once more he smiled his twisted smile, and was gone into the vulgar outer +world. He had not waited for a promise from his friend, for Pete was wise +in his little hour of life and left the keeping of a tryst with the honor +of a gentleman. + + + + +II + + +As for Omar Ben, he sat in the healthy grime of the garden soil, his mind +a prey to the poison of glittering promises, till suddenly a human fell +upon him with an absurd French shriek and bore him away to the lap of +comfort and a scented bath. + +In the bath he yowled; and wept when another lavender bow was tied about +his neck; and yet, had Mlle. Frenchy observed him carefully, she might +have caught him smiling. + +All day long he dozed and dreamed--dreamed of the vulgar world beyond +the wall--for now it seemed to his pampered soul that the pole star of an +earthly cat's desire was "frawgs." + +At the humans' dinner-time he scorned their expensive fare and sneaked +away into the shadows of the garden to wait for Ringtail Pete and the +rising of the moon. It rose; and, as it peeped above the wall, there also +rose a cautious signal-wail, and Pete's one eye glowed green among the +ivy-vines. + +"Hi, spote!" grinned the owner of the eye, as Omar Ben clawed his way to +a perch beside him. "Yer clumb dat wall in a way dat make me proud. Now, +den, we're off!" + +They dropped into the outer world. Omar Ben was trembling somewhat, but +tried his best to conceal the mortifying fact, and presently he conquered +it. After walking for a quarter of a mile along a country road, they +approached the outskirts of the town and began to cross it, employing +unfrequented paths. They traversed an alley, black and reeking with +nightly smells, pausing at last on the verge of a lighted street whence +rose the sound of human mirth, bits of vulgar song, and the barking of +vagrant dogs. + +"S-h-h-h!" cautioned Ringtail. "You wait till I counts to t'ree, den +make a rush fer de alley acrost de street--see?" + +"But, why?" asked Omar Ben, wondering. + +Pete sniffed in scorn of the uninitiated. + +"Well, nemmine why! You do like I tells yer, or yer'll git yer +eggercation wid a brick. Now den! One--two--t'ree! Hump it, bo!" + +They humped it, making the other alley's mouth by a margin slim indeed, +followed by human howls and a clattering volley of sticks and stones. + +"Good gracious!" the Persian gasped, as they streaked through the +alley's filth. "What _are_ they?" + +"Boys," grinned Pete. "De town is gittin' fair congested wid 'em. But +'tain't nuttin', son; it's jes' a part er de game er life. Come on." + +The way was easier now, and they journeyed without alarm. Presently +Ringtail turned to his friend with his twisted smile: + +"Yer see dat lady settin' on de gate-post? Well, dat's me steady. I'll +interjuce yer in a minute." + +The lady in question was a thin, dirty white cat with bold eyes and a +brazen bearing, and Omar Ben was doubtful of her caste. + +"Thank you," he murmured non-committally, and hurried on; but the +meeting was unavoidable, for the lady crossed the street and stood +directly in his path. + +"Hi, Mame!" said Pete, in cordial greeting. "Shake hands wid me friend, +Mr.--er--aw hell! Shake hands wid bo!" + +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. + +"Now, don't git phony, Mame!" he remarked in a gentle whisper. "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. +So long, Mame! Remember dat I loves yer!" + +With a partly mollified sniff, the lady retired to her gate-post, and the +two adventurers went on. They came to the evil-smelling tannery, and to +the frog-pond just behind it, stretching cold and still in the moonlight, +and covered with a noxious, slimy scum. It was horribly different from +the Persian's usual baths, but, once in he forgot its chill in the lust +of the hunt. + +They waded and swam and scrambled along the shore, Ringtail pointing out +that frogs were wont to crouch close down by the water's edge in the +shadow of some bush or vine. + +"Dere's one!" he whispered suddenly. "Now, sneak up, son, an' grab 'im!" + +Quivering with suppressed excitement, Omar Ben sneaked, but mistook the +especial frog to which his friend had reference. Instead, he pounced upon +a big yellow-throated beast weighing a pound and a half, and known +colloquially as a "sockdolliger" or a "joogger-room." There followed a +scuffling rush, a grunt, a startled yowl, and a swirl of water; then Omar +Ben came up coughing, minus his frog, but plus an overcoat of mud and +disappointment. + +"Great snakes!" yelled Pete. "Ain't yer got no gumption 't all? Ef I had +knowed yer wanted ter eat a cow, I'd 'a' took you up to de +slaughter-house! Go fer de little ones, bo. Yer don't gain nuttin' by +bein' a hawg. Take it from me--it's straight!" + +"Bo" went for the little ones. He had learned his lesson of experience, +and profited thereby. He made his virgin kill and devoured it, squatting +in the muddy pond, while around him rose the voices of the wild things of +the night; and never had morsel tasted sweeter to his pampered tongue. +And so the hunt went on, a never-to-be-forgotten hunt, when crawfish +nipped their tails, when insects preyed upon their eyes, and they dripped +with the sweat of joyful toil; then, presently, the friends stretched out +upon the bank, weary and replete. + +"Say, bo," said Ringtail, after a restful pause, "what do yer say to a +nip?" + +"A nip?" asked Omar Ben in astonishment. "What kind of a nip?" + +"W'y, a catnip, yer bloomin' bladderskite! Wot did yer t'ink I meant--a +cornder of de moon? I'm talkin' 'bout jes' straight catnip. Are you on?" + +"Yes, certainly," returned the Persian gravely. "I am on!" + +On the homeward way they turned into a lane and came to a clump of +catnip. True, Omar Ben had tasted the herb before, but dry and in +five-cent packages, which was different from the pure article direct from +nature's still and exuding its sharp, intoxicating breath. Pete and Omar +fell upon it greedily, rolled upon it, wallowed among the scattered +leaves, and chewed and chewed till their senses swam in a spirit-dance of +ecstasy. Then, after a nap, the two reeled homeward down the road, Pete +smiling his twisted smile, and Omar Ben Sufi wrapped in the comforting +belief that he was singing tunefully. + +"Say, R.T.," the Persian chuckled happily, "what did you say was the name +of your lady friend's other lady friend?" + +"Lizzie," answered Ringtail, astounded at the tone of familiarity; "an' +take it from me she's white!" + +"In color, do you mean?" + +"Naw--in disposition. Outside, she's kind of striped, but inside, de +lady's white; an' don't yer fergit it, bo, she's de owner of four good +sets of claws. + +"Thank you," said Omar Ben airily. "I shall endeavor to remember. Come +along, R.T.!" + +Pete objected somewhat to this pointed abbreviation of his name, but +forgave his friend on the grounds that he was drunk; so the two went on +and sought their rendezvous. The ladies were waiting, seated expectantly +on the gate-posts, but descended at Ringtail's call, and the "swell gent" +was formally introduced. Miss Lizzie seemed to like him immensely, and +the two progressed so well that Ringtail stretched his single eye to its +utmost capacity, cursing softly at his friend's unprecedented cheek. For +Omar Ben--thanks to his nip of catnip--so far forgot his strained reserve +that Miss Lizzie herself said afterward to a friend, in confidence: + +"I never _see_ sech a _forward_ gent sence me 'n' you was a couple er +half-way-drownded kits!" + +The flirtation, however, was short-lived, for suddenly, without an +instant's warning, Miss Lizzie, Miss Mame, and Pete himself went clawing +up a water-pipe to a convenient roof above, while down the street came +floating a shrill, defiant yowl. + +"Chase yerse'f, bo!" called Pete in a voice of fear. "It's Ash-Can Sam!" + +Now, Ash-Can Sam had a reputation of his own, as every cat in the +neighborhood could testify with sorrow and with tears. He weighed eleven +pounds. He kept himself in training; and, where others lived for love or +wealth or art, Ash-Can Sam existed for a finish fight alone. At the +present speaking he came swaggering around a corner, and paused in +astonishment at the sight of a stranger sitting in the middle of the +street. The insolence of it! It was past belief! + +"Oh, please, Mr. 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_!" + +The patrician declined to "beat it," and Ash-Can Sam edged a little +closer, wearing a dissolute, wicked leer of joy. He circled slowly round +the stranger cat, eying Omar Ben's glossy coat and humming a sort of +vulgar chant: + + Ain't it a sham-m-m-m-e! + To chaw up mommer's sugar-pet, + An' hurt his nose, not soon, but yet. + Oh, ain't it a sham-m-m-m-e! + +Omar Ben regarded the bully in calm scorn. "You disreputable beast," he +said, "shut up!" + +Sam, in no uncertain terms, stated his unwillingness to shut up, and the +conversation became personal. + +"Yer blink-eyed yard er silk, I'm a goin' to turn you cat-out-the-skin +an' sell yer tail fer a fancy dustin'-brush!" + +"Bosh! You'd run from a pet canary." + +"You're a liar!" + +"You're another!" + +"So's yer pa an' so's yer mother!" + +"_Pfst! Zzz-i-ttt! Y-eo-w!_" + +And the battle was on. + +"Oh, dear!" mewed Lizzie tearfully. "An' Mr. Bo was sech a easy-mannered +gent'man, too!" + +Sub-consciously, she was already referring to the foolish Persian in the +past tense; yet, in view of probable results, and in the stress of such +violent circumstance, her anti-mortem sorrow might at least be pardoned. + +Omar Ben had never had a fight, and yet the memory of inheritance had +waked within him, revealing other traits besides his yearning for +debauchery and "frawgs"; so now he squared himself and uncurled his +velvet toes. + +Ash-Can Sam crouched low and came in with a headlong rush. Omar Ben +side-stepped and raked him with a stiffly extended paw. It was a good +rake, and there was fur upon his claws--and blood. + +"Hully gee!" breathed Pete into Mame's convenient ear. "Did yer pipe de +way bo upper-cut 'im? Gee!" + +Ash-Can Sam was wounded--not so much in body as in pugilistic pride. He +turned to wipe away the stain, and, incidentally, to wipe the earth with +the body of a foreign cat. This time he came in, swearing, and the two +cats reared upon their haunches with the shock; then fell in a tangled, +rending, yowling snarl. Omar Ben, by instinctive craft, sought for a +point of vantage underneath his foe--a vantage because, when lying on his +back, he could claw straight up with all four feet, and the greater the +weight of the chap on top, the greater his woe--abdominally. + +This point of vantage, however, is rather difficult to hold, with two +most earnest gentlemen desirous of it; and so they changed +positions--changed so rapidly, in fact, that their bodies resembled a +sort of pyrotechnic pinwheel whose centrifugal sparks were composed of +eyes and claws and tufts of fur and cat profanity. Also, it lasted longer +than the ordinary pinwheel, and was a trifle more uproarious; but it died +at last with a sizzling spit, and a lean black streak shot out toward the +haven of an alley's mouth. + +The streak was Ash-Can Sam. Omar Ben Sufi sat down in the middle of the +street, and wondered. He had thrashed something, and he didn't understand +it. So he just sat there, quivering, bleeding, battered--but a conqueror. + +Ringtail Pete endeavored to express himself, but emotion choked him; +therefore he spat fervidly and said: + +"Hully gee!" + +Then he and the ladies descended from the roof, to walk in silent circles +around the champion, regarding him with a species of cataleptic awe. +Presently, however, Pete came to earth, extended his paw, and delivered +himself of an established truth: + +"Well, dang my hide, but it takes er 'ristercrat fer to glitter in a +scrap!" + +They escorted him all the way to his eighty-thousand-dollar home. The +ladies kissed him--both of them--and helped him to clamber weakly over +his garden wall. + +He turned to Ringtail with an easy, aristocratic smile: "_Au revoir,_ +R.T.! Those frawgs were most delicious!" + +"Hully gee!" breathed Pete, and disappeared through the dusk of the +outer world. + + + + +III + + +Now, in the eighty-thousand-dollar cottage black sorrow reigned +throughout the night. There were tears and linguistic prayers. 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. + +Poor Omar Ben was a sight to awaken pity, even in the stoniest of hearts. +The number of his hairs could be counted, almost, by plus and minus +tufts; one eye was closed; his splendid tail was bent in several angles +unrecognized by the rules of art, and he smelled of the outer +world--horribly. + +His mistress expressed her grief in a noiseless, refined whimper of +despair; the French maid shrieked, and called on Heaven to witness the +devastation of her every hope; but the master--who had lived, in spite of +his Wall Street training--laughed. + +"Nonsense!" said he. "You are squandering your sympathies upon a +shameless prodigal. The beast has had the time of his life, by George!" + +"Oh, Charles, how _can_ you?" wailed the mistress of the priceless cat. +"Can't you see how the precious child is suffering?" + +Again the master laughed--laughed brutally. + +"Of course he's suffering, my dear--but look at the smile on him!" + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, A NIGHT OUT *** + +This file should be named ntout10.txt or ntout10.zip +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, ntout11.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, ntout10a.txt + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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