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THE NORMAL RECORD. tain that it had gone clear through the bone of his big toe. The cat growled and kicked. She scratched and bit. She got away. "Well, well, I declare!" softly exclaimed her baffled captor, "how can I ever find her now? I do wish people wouldn't keep so many pets. And that tack—how it hurt! I shall look for tacks on the floor in the morning. Shall I ever get to sleep again!" Just then the clock struck one. The cat was not found. '' Come, kitty, good kitty, pretty kitty,'' entreated the minister, kneeling and sawing along the floor. "Kitty, kitty, yes, nice kitt-e-e." He crawled, he waved his hands as he crawled, in vain hope that he would come up with the elusive feline. Space, space, empty space. He stood up, waving first one foot, then the other. He found his own valise, stumbled over it and caught himself. He crashed into the waste-paper basket. Suddenly a bright thought illumined his mind. Matches! He would light a match; yes, a whole bunch if necessary. Have that cat he must. The matches were on the mantle. He would try to find them. He banged the closet door. Hush! was that a step? No, only a twig falling on the roof. He would go softly, now, lest he wake the sleeping household. His foot touched something cool, smooth and wooden—a large pail. He concluded to step over it, and raised his foot. Alas! for Mrs. Quick's scrubbing bucket. Plunk! swish! splash! Hor- ors! now what was that? He stood in the midst of floods. He tried to wade out. this way, that way, water, water, soapy water. Despair sat on his heart. He shivered with the cold and wavered with indecision. If he only had a match! The cat was hidden, his feet were wet, the room was dark and he would not call out. He splashed and waded ahead. He found a wet mop, stepped into the middle of it and waded on. Presently a rustle told him that he was at the window. He reached out and pulled the shade up. Moonlight danced in and fell on ceiling, wall and floor. But what a sight! The room was littered with everything that ought to have been standing upright and wasn't. There, across the outside door, lay the broom. In one corner was an over-turned cracker- box. A small looking-glass and a goblet lay in a hundred pieces on the floor. An open paper of tacks, with its scattered contents, occupied the middle of the room, and last and worst of all, a scrubbing bucket was behind him in the midst of the gallon or more of lake it had once contained. The Rev. Philander sighed. No cat was to be seen. He left the shade up, turned away from the chaotic past and crossed the room. He sat down on the edge of the bed, disconsolate, wiped his wet feet on the corner of a quilt and crept between the sheets once more. He heard a gentle purring. "Oh, that cat," thought he, "shall I attempt it again ?'' Overcome with fatigue and cold he dozed and finally fell into a heavy sleep, while the cat purred in sleepy contentment on top of his feet. He dreamed of nothing but cats and woke in the morning firmly convinced that he had put them out of doors all night. When he went to breakfast, Mrs. Quick noticed that her guest looked worn. She felt it her duty to inquire how he had rested. The new minister was not a man to prevaricate, but he found difficulty in extricating himself from a tangle so likely to prove unpleasant to his hostess. "How many cats have you, sister?" he ventured discreetly. Mrs. Quick looked at him in wonder. She put the coffee-pot on the rack and
Object Description
Title | The Normal Record. March 1904 |
Original Date | 1904-03 |
Description | The Record. Published by the Associated Students of Chico State College. |
Creator | Chico State College |
Location of Original | Archives |
Call Number | LD723 C57 |
Digital Collection | The Record: Chico State Yearbook Collection |
Digital Repository | Meriam Library, California State University, Chico. |
Description-Abstract | The Record served as both a student magazine and a commencement program for Chico Normal School. In the year 1904 it was published every month - except the Summer months. |
Date Digital | 2013 |
Language | eng |
Rights | For information on the use of the images in this collection contact the Special Collections Department at 530.898-6342 or email: specialcollections@csuchico.edu |
Format | image/tiff |
Filename | index.cpd |
Description
Title | 1904_03_NormalRecord.012 |
Original Date | 1904-03 |
OCR- Transcript | THE NORMAL RECORD. tain that it had gone clear through the bone of his big toe. The cat growled and kicked. She scratched and bit. She got away. "Well, well, I declare!" softly exclaimed her baffled captor, "how can I ever find her now? I do wish people wouldn't keep so many pets. And that tack—how it hurt! I shall look for tacks on the floor in the morning. Shall I ever get to sleep again!" Just then the clock struck one. The cat was not found. '' Come, kitty, good kitty, pretty kitty,'' entreated the minister, kneeling and sawing along the floor. "Kitty, kitty, yes, nice kitt-e-e." He crawled, he waved his hands as he crawled, in vain hope that he would come up with the elusive feline. Space, space, empty space. He stood up, waving first one foot, then the other. He found his own valise, stumbled over it and caught himself. He crashed into the waste-paper basket. Suddenly a bright thought illumined his mind. Matches! He would light a match; yes, a whole bunch if necessary. Have that cat he must. The matches were on the mantle. He would try to find them. He banged the closet door. Hush! was that a step? No, only a twig falling on the roof. He would go softly, now, lest he wake the sleeping household. His foot touched something cool, smooth and wooden—a large pail. He concluded to step over it, and raised his foot. Alas! for Mrs. Quick's scrubbing bucket. Plunk! swish! splash! Hor- ors! now what was that? He stood in the midst of floods. He tried to wade out. this way, that way, water, water, soapy water. Despair sat on his heart. He shivered with the cold and wavered with indecision. If he only had a match! The cat was hidden, his feet were wet, the room was dark and he would not call out. He splashed and waded ahead. He found a wet mop, stepped into the middle of it and waded on. Presently a rustle told him that he was at the window. He reached out and pulled the shade up. Moonlight danced in and fell on ceiling, wall and floor. But what a sight! The room was littered with everything that ought to have been standing upright and wasn't. There, across the outside door, lay the broom. In one corner was an over-turned cracker- box. A small looking-glass and a goblet lay in a hundred pieces on the floor. An open paper of tacks, with its scattered contents, occupied the middle of the room, and last and worst of all, a scrubbing bucket was behind him in the midst of the gallon or more of lake it had once contained. The Rev. Philander sighed. No cat was to be seen. He left the shade up, turned away from the chaotic past and crossed the room. He sat down on the edge of the bed, disconsolate, wiped his wet feet on the corner of a quilt and crept between the sheets once more. He heard a gentle purring. "Oh, that cat," thought he, "shall I attempt it again ?'' Overcome with fatigue and cold he dozed and finally fell into a heavy sleep, while the cat purred in sleepy contentment on top of his feet. He dreamed of nothing but cats and woke in the morning firmly convinced that he had put them out of doors all night. When he went to breakfast, Mrs. Quick noticed that her guest looked worn. She felt it her duty to inquire how he had rested. The new minister was not a man to prevaricate, but he found difficulty in extricating himself from a tangle so likely to prove unpleasant to his hostess. "How many cats have you, sister?" he ventured discreetly. Mrs. Quick looked at him in wonder. She put the coffee-pot on the rack and |