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Page 26 text:
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KL JCCLIHJ Q PAUL USTRUVVSKI ROBESPIERRE WAS an American alley cat of the special New York City variety. Now. please do not confuse this with the plain alley cat. for then you will be doing Robespierre a gross injustice. New York alley cats have many features which do not appear in the other members of their races. First of all. the New York variety has a special scent about it which is about as exotic and rare as Chanel No. 5. In this heavenly scent. we can dis- tinguish the unbelievably sweet odor of garbage cans. Intermixed with this there are tinges of wet leaves. sewage. chicken, and many other reasonably delightful fumes. Another feature which makes these cats so different is their whole mental make-up. If you, somewhere in your journeys. have had the privilege of witnessing the crossing of a street by such a cat, you will know what I mean. However, for those poor unfor- tunates who have never had the honor. I shall try to describe this mar- velous sight. First of all, from basic or kitten training, the cat will first stand at the curb and look in both directions to see if any cars are com- ing. If. for instance, a large truck should be passing. this highly intelli- gent animal will slowly and indig- 26 nantly retire to the safety of his stoop and shoot glances of bitt-er scorn at the rude vehicle. When there are no longer any cars in sight. a slow walk will be started to the middle of the street and then will become a fast gallop until after the safety of the opposite curb is attained. For these special creatures. the con- tents of garbage pails are irresistible. No matter how well fed the animal may be, the lure of loose garbage cannot be denied. Perhaps it is sort of an adventure to see how many new things may be found. or perhaps the odor seems ambrosial to their sensitive nostrils. Now let us look into the love life and the real charm of the New York alley cat. He is urban. debonair. a veritable sophisticate. His loves are many. and, sad as it may seem. these heartless creatures are not very adapt- able to home life. They prefer the wild. adventurous. free existence and not the responsibility of a cat and kittens. It is here that our story begins. for Robespierre, unlike the other alley cats, wanted a loving wife and a family. He remembered how, when as a kitten his mother had to go robbing garbage cans to feed the family after his father had deserted them. Sad as it was. he looked everywhere for a wife but was unable to find a single feline who would take him seriously. Mary, the maltese. had given him the cold stare routine and had walked away with her tail in the air when he had proposed. He knew of no other eligible lady cats so. in desperation. he iust walked off one day to see if he could find someone in the world
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Page 25 text:
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HE SET the bottle of sleeping tablets beside his bed and proceeded to un- dress. Then. lighting a cigarette, he walked into the kitchen and drew a glass of water from the tap. This, too, he set on the table by the bed. Sitting down, he inhaled deeply a few times and stubbed the cigarette out in the ashtray. It's so simple. he thought. to end everything this way. I'm a powerful man. It's fitting that I take my own life. He felt a glow of inde- pendence surge through him as he un- screwed the cap from the bottle. Two, four, six, he counted. better make it eight to be on the safe side. Plac- ing them on his tongue, he swallowed them with the water and slipped in between the sheets. He couldn't have remained waiting for death to come to him. His mind raced back to the day when the doc- tors had told him that he had an in- curabl-e cancer and that, at most, he had only a year to live. That had been three months ago. How long does it take? he thought. lf only I could fall asleep. I don't want to think any more. He listened to the rain hitting his window with vehemence. A bolt of lightning lit up the room for a second, then it was dark again. A stormy night. he thought, very appropriate. Then he realized that he was thinking like a child. He was actually glad that it was storming. because it made the situation more dramatic. Even suicide was childish. he thought. But actually it was the only way. I want to live so badly. he mur- mured, yet it's impossible. What would the remainder of the year hold for him? Suffering, and then, finally, the death that he knew was inevit- able. There was so much good in life. The joy in a smile. or the sadness in eagza fion WILLIAM PEARCE a tear. These things were all good and fine because they were part of life. Then he knew. If iust being alive made even sadness something good. then his life must not end. While he was thinking these thoughts. his eyes had been closed. When he opened them, it was like lifting two heavy pieces of lead. He snapped the light on beside his bed and stood up. His knees were weak and unable to support him. Using the furniture as a guide. he groped his way to the living room and sat down beside the telephone. I've got to live. he thought, I've got to. Lifting the receiver from the hook, he quickly dialed the operator. He could hear a ringing sound and then her voice. Operator, get me- Lightning flashed across the sky be- fore he finished. Operator, get me the police. Operator! he screamed. His head was swimming now, and he knew there was little time. He hung up and then lifted the receiver. There was no dial tone. The storm, he cried, the storm! He dropped the re- ceiver to the floor and stood up. If he could only get to the window and cry out for help. Doggedly he raised himself from the chair and staggered across the room. When he got as far as the piano. the room started to spin dizzily about him and his knees folded beneath him. He grasped the piano for support, but in his hand there was no strength. His hands passed over a few keys before he fell, but to him the tones that came from them were inaudible. 25
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Page 27 text:
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who would love him. His search continued for about three days and two nights of miserable and lonely wandering. It was deep winter and mighty cold. The neighborhood was rather well-to-do and hence the garbage pails yielded very little. He was feeling pangs of hunger by evening and was about to give up his search when, after crawling under a picket fence he caught sight of another cat. As he moved closer. he noticed that it was one of those ritzy, high-class Persians. She was sure a good looker, and boy what a tail!! Needless to say. he was taken with her good looks but was hesitant to approach her because of the differ- ence in their social stations. It was only until she started walking that Robespierre decided to throw caution to the winds and approach the young lady feat lady, of coursel. The deli- cate way in which she moved her paws and the sweet way in which sh-e twisted her body made her seem a goddess to the exploring eyes of our loveless lad. Before nearing her, h-e added a few touches to his rather battered anatomy. A few agile move- ments of his tongue got his long white whiskers in proper order and after putting his tail up in a iaunty manner he started his pilgrimage. He was a bit surprised to see that she didn't seem startled by his sudden appear- ance. Gathering his courage, he went onward. When finally he got to her, he was sure that this was really high society. She smelled to high heaven with that stuff that humans call per- fume. His plan for action was to give her the devil-may-care attitude so. lifting his paws in a martial manner. he paraded himself before her. She didn't move a Whisker. He walked past her again. No result!! Finally. in desperation. he stood before her, staring into her liquidly green eyes which glowed like emerald fire in the light of the dying day. She suddenly got up. lifted her magnificent tail, and in a kitty-like fashion, rubbed against Robespierre's scarred side. Well, today Robespierre and Gladys are happily married and have a small family of ten. It seems that Gladys was tired of fancy cats and wanted a husband who could really protect her. As I sit here now. I can see Robespierre Know more refinedl lazily stretched out before me. home for a rest from the family which he so dearly loves. .0 p 0i'g ' , I V: . 560 .- fh 5 10 . .as,1m35' ' 0 '.-'S t I 27
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