How the First House was Built

　　You are not going1 to believe2 this story. But it is a true3 story, as4 true as I sit here writing5 it—as true as I will die6 in the morning. Yes, this story ends with my end, with my death7 tomorrow.

　　I have always been a kind and loving8 person9—everyone will tell you this. They will also tell you that I have always loved animals more than anything. When I was10 a little boy, my family always had11 many different animals round the house. As I grew up, I spent most of my time with them, giving them their food and cleaning them.

　　I married12 when I was very young, and I was happy to find that my wife13 loved all of our animal friends as much as I did14. She bought us the most beautiful animals. We had all sorts15 of birds, gold fish, a fine dog and a cat.

　　The cat was a very large and beautiful animal. He was black, black all over, and very intelligent16. He was so intelligent that my wife often laughed about what some people believe; some people believe that all black cats are evil17, enemies18 in a cat's body.

　　Pluto19—this was the cat's name—was my favourite. It was always I who gave20 him his food, and he followed me everywhere. I often had to stop him from following21 me through the streets! For years, he and I lived happily22 together, the best of friends.

　　But during23 those years I was slowly24 changing. It was that evil enemy26 of Man called Drink who was changing me. I was not the kind, loving person people knew before. I grew more and more selfish27. I was often suddenly28 angry about unimportant29 things. I began to use bad language30, most of all with my wife. I even31 hit her sometimes. And by that time, of course32, I was often doing horrible33 things to our animals. I hit all of them—but never Pluto. But, my illness34 was getting worse—oh yes, drink is an illness! Soon I began to hurt my dear Pluto too.

　　I remember that night very well. I came35 home late, full of drink again. I could36 not understand why Pluto was not pleased37 to see me. The cat was staying away from me. My Pluto did not want to come near me! I caught him and picked38 him up, holding him strongly. He was afraid of me and bit39 my hand.

　　Suddenly, I was not myself40 any more. Someone41 else was in my body: someone evil, and mad42 with drink! I took43 my knife from my pocket44, held the poor animal by his neck and cut out one of his eyes.

　　The next morning, my mind45 was full of pain46 and horror47 when I woke48 up. I was deeply49 sorry. I could not understand how I could do such50 an evil thing. But drink soon helped me to forget.

　　Slowly the cat got51 better. Soon he felt no more pain. There was now only an ugly dry hole where the eye once was. He began to go round the house as usual52 again. He never came near me now, of course, and he ran53 away when I went too close.

　　I knew he didn't love me any more. At first I was sad. Then, slowly, I started to feel angry, and I did another terrible54 thing . . .

　　I had to do it—I could not stop myself. I did it with a terrible sadness55 in my heart—because I knew it was evil. And that was why I did it—yes! I did it because I knew it was evil. What did I do? I caught the cat and hung56 him by his neck from a tree until57 he was dead58.

　　That night I woke up suddenly—my bed was on fire. I heard people outside shouting, 'Fire! Fire!' Our house was burning61! I, my wife and our servant62 were lucky63 to escape64. We stood65 and watched as the house burned down to the ground66.

　　There was nothing left of the building the next morning. All the walls fell67 down during the night, except68 one - a wall in the middle of the house. I realized69 why this wall did not burn60: because there was new plaster70 on it. The plaster was still quite wet.

　　I was surprised71 to see a crowd72 of people next to the wall. They were talking, and seemed73 to be quite excited74. I went closer and looked over their shoulders. I saw75 a black shape in the new white plaster. It was the shape of large cat, hanging25 by its neck.

　　I looked at the shape with complete76 horror. Several77 minutes passed before I could think clearly78 again. I knew I had to try to think clearly. I had to know why it was there.

　　I remembered hanging the cat in the garden of the house next door. During the fire the garden was full of people. Probably79, someone cut the dead cat from the tree and threw it through the window—to try and wake80 me. The falling walls pressed81 the animal's body into the fresh82 plaster. The cat burned completely83, leaving the black shape in the new plaster. Yes, I was sure that was what happened.

　　But I could not forget that black shape for months. I even saw it in my dreams84. I began to feel sad about losing85 the animal. So I began to look for another one. I looked mostly86 in the poor parts87 of our town where I went drinking. I searched88 for another black cat, of the same size89 and type90 as Pluto.#p#分页标题#e#

　　One night, as I sat91 in a dark92 and dirty drinking-house, I noticed93 a black object94 on top of a cupboard, near some bottles of wine95. I was surprised when I saw it. 'I looked at those bottles a few96 minutes ago,' I thought97, 'and I am sure that object was not there before . . .'

　　I got up, and went to see what it was. I put my hand up, touched it, and found98 that it was a black cat - a very large one, as large as Pluto. He looked like Pluto too - in every way but one: Pluto did not have a white hair anywhere99 on his body; this cat had a large white shape on his front.

　　He got up when I touched him, and pressed the side59 of his head against100 my hand several times. He liked me. This was the animal I was looking for! He continued101 to be very friendly102 and later103, when I left, he followed me into the street. He came all the way home with me— we now had another house - and came inside104. He immediately105 jumped up on to the most comfortable106 chair and went to sleep. He stayed with us, of course. He loved both of us and very soon he became107 my wife's favourite animal.