Moonlight After Rain
John Atkinson Grimshaw
I wandered home late that night a little drunk on the good wine of friends. The moon was high in the sky and every so often she veiled herself with clouds.

Abbey in the Oakwood
Caspar David Friedrich
Near the graveyard was a wood and there I saw through the mists that veiled the cemetery a sort of funeral procession. It seemed as if someone of great importance had died for there was much ghostly and melancholic singing...

Cat's Chorus
Louis Wain
It sounded... ah but surely that was the wine. Yet, I could have sworn the singing sounded like a host of cats meowling in the night. They were singing, 'The King of the Cats is dead, long live the King of the Cats!'

July (Specimen of a Portrait)
James Jacques-Joseph Tissot
I returned home to my darling wife and daughter. My love reclined on the sopha after supper caught in a dream of her own. She had been waiting for me to come home and was not overly happy to find me in my slightly drunken state.

Fire Fancies
Arthur Hacker
However, as I managed to sit down near the fire by my daughter, my wife sighed. My daughter sat before the fire with her cat Minouche upon her lap, both enjoying the warmth. I related the funeral I had seen.

The Black Cat
Aubrey Vincent Beardsley
When I remarked upon the song of the cats, Minouche leapt to my daughter's head and cried with joy, 'Then I'm the King of the Cats!'