At that tender age I
still had all the presumptuousness of an animal who is
disdainful of the sweetness of home.
How fortunate I was， indeed， that providence had placed me
with your aunt! That good woman adored me. I had at the
bottom of a wardrobe a veritable sleeping salon， with feather
cushions and triple covers. My food was equally excellent; never
just bread， or soup， but always meat， carefully chosen meat.
Well， in the midst of all this opulence， I had only one desire，
one dream， and that was to slip out of the upper window and
escape On to the roofs. Caresses annoyed me， the softness of
my bed nauseated me， and I was so fat that it was disgusting
even to myself. In short， I was bored the whole day long just
with being happy.
I must tell you that by stretching my neck a bit， I had seen the
roof directly in front of my window. That day four cats were
playing with each other up there; their fur bristling， their tails
high， they were romping around with every indication of joy
on the blue roof slates baked by the sun. I had never before
watched such an extraordinary spectacle. And from then on I
had a definitely fixed belief: out there on that roof was true
happiness， out there beyond the window which was always
closed so carefullyl In proof of that contention I remembered
that the doors of the chest in which the meat was kept were
also closed， just as carefully!
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