{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_76176/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_76176","id":"gutenberg_76176","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/76176","summary":null,"tags":["Category: American Literature","Category: Children & Young Adult Reading","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Category: Short Stories","Cats -- Juvenile fiction","Children's stories"],"text":"KITTY-CAT TALES.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n[Illustration: IMPTY CURLED HIMSELF UP CLOSE TO THE PILLOW, AND BEGAN\nTHE STORY.--_Page 12._]\n\n\n\n\n  KITTY-CAT TALES\n\n  BY\n\n  ALICE VAN LEER CARRICK\n\n  ILLUSTRATED BY\n\n  HOMER EATON KEYES AND BERTHA G. DAVIDSON\n\n  [Illustration]\n\n  BOSTON\n\n  LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO.\n\n\n\n\nPUBLISHED, AUGUST, 1907.\n\nCOPYRIGHT, 1907, BY LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD COMPANY.\n\n_All Rights Reserved._\n\nKITTY-CAT TALES.\n\n\n  Norwood Press\n  J. S. Cushing Co.--Berwick & Smith Co.\n  Norwood, Mass., U.S.A.\n\n\n\n\nTo\n\nMARGARET AND JOHN\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n\n                                                  PAGE\n\n  THE FIRST NIGHT                                    7\n\n     THE WHITE CAT                                  13\n\n  THE SECOND NIGHT                                  39\n\n     THE KING OF THE FIELD-MICE                     41\n\n  THE THIRD NIGHT                                   55\n\n     THE DISCONTENTED CAT                           57\n\n  THE FOURTH NIGHT                                 122\n\n     THE CAT WHO MARRIED A MOUSE                   123\n\n  THE FIFTH NIGHT                                  139\n\n     MOTHER MICHEL AND HER CAT                     141\n\n  THE SIXTH NIGHT                                  177\n\n     VENUS AND THE CAT                             178\n\n     THE CAT AND THE FOX                           181\n\n  THE SEVENTH NIGHT                                186\n\n     DICK WHITTINGTON AND HIS WONDERFUL CAT        189\n\n  THE EIGHTH NIGHT                                 203\n\n     THE FUNERAL OF TOM GRIMALKIN                  204\n\n     THE KING OF THE CATS                          210\n\n  THE NINTH NIGHT                                  216\n\n     PUSS-IN-BOOTS                                 218\n\n\n\n\nILLUSTRATIONS\n\n\n  IMPTY CURLED HIMSELF UP CLOSE TO THE PILLOW, AND\n      BEGAN THE STORY (Page 12)                     _Frontispiece_\n\n                                                       FACING PAGE\n\n  THE PRINCE MOUNTED THE HOBBY-HORSE, AND FOUND\n      THAT HE HAD NEVER RIDDEN BETTER                           20\n\n  \u201cKNOW, THEN, THAT I AM THE KING OF ALL THE\n      FIELD-MICE\u201d                                               44\n\n  THE COUNTESS CAME IN, FOLLOWED BY A LAPDOG                    98\n\n  \u201cI UNDERSTAND NOW,\u201d SAID THE LITTLE MOUSE, QUITE\n      GENTLY                                                   136\n\n  HE OPENED THE BAG, AND TOSSED MOUMOUTH INTO THE\n      WATER                                                    150\n\n  VENUS TURNED HER AT ONCE INTO A CAT AGAIN                    180\n\n  SOME BROUGHT ONE THING, SOME ANOTHER, BUT DICK\n      WHITTINGTON HAD ONLY HIS CAT TO SEND                     194\n\n  \u201cHAVE YOU ANY SPARE TIME?\u201d ASKED THE OWL                     206\n\n  \u201cMASTER,\u201d SAID PUSS, \u201cYOU HAVEN\u2019T FARED SO BADLY\n      AS YOU SEEM TO THINK\u201d                                    220\n\n\n\n\nTHE FIRST NIGHT\n\n\nDolly sat up in bed, and stared gravely at the shutters where the last\nsunset light was trying to slip through. She was not at all sleepy,\nand, because Sandman had not come to shake his magic dust in her eyes,\nshe had time to think what a lonely and very, very unhappy child she\nwas. For Dolly\u2019s mother and father had gone away suddenly to her\ngrandmother, who was ill, and Miss Jane had come to take care of the\nlittle girl until they came home. Miss Jane was good to her--Dolly\nknew that--but, then, Miss Jane had never had any little girls of her\nown, so she could not know how nice a lump of sugar felt in your hand\nat bedtime, nor how a tight, lumpy braid of hair could get down your\nback at night, and keep you awake for ever so long. Miss Jane had given\nDolly a drink of water, and heard her say her prayers, and then gone\nout.\n\n\u201cShe never kissed me good night, nor told me just even one story,\u201d the\nlittle girl said to herself. \u201cAnd she wouldn\u2019t shut the door loose,\nthough I said \u2018Please,\u2019 \u2019cause she was afraid Impty would get in. O\ndear! How I wish I did have him with me!\u201d\n\nNow Impty was a black, black kitten, with long, thin legs, and a thin,\ncurved tail that made him look like a witch\u2019s cat--ready to jump on a\nbroom-stick, and sail off through the air--and he stared solemnly out\nof such round, yellow eyes that he seemed to understand everything that\nhappened about him.\n\n\u201cDear me! I wish Impty _was_ here!\u201d said Dolly again, and then\nsomething rubbed against her sleeve, and said, \u201cPurr-rr-rr,\u201d a long\npurr that slid at last into words, and sounded like this, \u201cPurr-rr-rr,\npoor Dolly, poor Dolly! _I\u2019ll_ tell you a story.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, Impty, dear, I didn\u2019t know you could talk,\u201d the little girl cried.\n\n\u201cYou never asked me,\u201d answered the kitten, demurely. \u201cBut I _can_ talk,\nand I can tell stories, too, for I know all the lore of Cat-Land. When\nI sleep I go there in my dreams, and my grandfather, the King of the\nCats, purrs the Kitty-Cat tales in my ear. You have been so kind to us\nall your life that you are loved through the whole Cat Kingdom, and so,\none tale each night until your mother comes home, I am permitted by the\nKing to tell you. But now lie down, and I will purr to you, and then,\nif Miss Jane comes in, she can\u2019t do more than say \u2018Scat\u2019 and drive me\naway, but if she heard me really talking, goodness knows what _would_\nhappen!\u201d\n\nSo Dolly cuddled down with a happy little sigh, and Impty curled\nhimself up close to the pillow, and began the story of \u201cThe White Cat.\u201d\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration:\n\n  THE\n  WHITE CAT\n]\n\n\nOnce upon a time there was a King who had three sons, all of whom were\nso handsome and good and clever, that he could not decide which should\nbe the one to reign after him when he was dead and gone. Now this King\nwas getting old, and as he knew that he must soon make his choice, and\nappoint his heir, he called his three sons to him.\n\n\u201cListen,\u201d he said to them: \u201cI am growing older every day, and soon one\nof you must rule the kingdom in my stead. Now, I love you all so well\nthat I can make no choice, but I will give each of you the chance to\nwin the crown. Gather together your servants and your horses, set out\nupon a journey, and the one of you who shall bring me back the most\nbeautiful little dog, shall inherit my sceptre. One year will I give\nyou for the search, and then I will make my decision.\u201d\n\nSo the three sons took leave of their father, and started in different\nways, sad at heart at leaving home and each other, for, though they\nwere rivals, they were devoted brothers. One went north, and one went\nsouth, and both saw many strange sights, but the youngest Prince had\nthe most wonderful adventures of all. He wandered here and there,\nbuying dogs of all kinds: dachshunds, spaniels, black and tans, until\nhe had a large pack of tiny dogs trotting at his heels.\n\nThen, when the year was all gone but a month, and he was thinking of\nturning his steps homeward, he wandered from his followers, and lost\nhis way in a wide, dark forest. After calling out and hallooing in\nvain, he noticed a number of lights burning brightly not very far away,\nand he turned his steps in their direction. What was his surprise to\ncome to the gate-ways of a mighty castle, brilliantly lighted, but with\nno warders at the doors. Instead of men-at-arms, a number of white\nhands appeared in answer to his knock, and ushered him into a spacious,\nwell-lighted hall. He sat down in a soft arm-chair that the hands had\nbrought up close to the fire, and, when he was warmed and rested, the\nhands drew off gently his travel-stained garments, and dressed him in\na magnificent suit of scarlet satin laced with silver. Then, when he\nwas ready, and looking as a Prince should look, the hands led him into\nthe banqueting-hall, and there, under a canopy at one end of the room,\nhe saw the most beautiful cat he had ever beheld in his life. She was\nas white as snow, with long, soft, silky fur, and the prettiest little\nface imaginable. Below her were seated cats playing on harps and\nlutes, and all about the hall hurried other cats busy on some errand.\n\nHis chair was placed beside the White Cat\u2019s; every honor was shown him,\nand, because he could not eat the mice and rats that were served up in\nall sorts of ways, the hands brought him his favorite dishes. While\nthey were thus feasting, the Prince happened to look at a bracelet that\nthe Cat was wearing. What was his surprise to see that it was a band of\ngold that held a miniature of himself! He was lost in wonderment, as\nwell he might have been, for he was sure that never in his life had he\ngiven his picture to a cat of any kind. But when he asked her about it,\nshe only smiled sadly, and shook her head, refusing to say anything.\n\nAfter the banquet was over, as he was very tired from tramping all day\nlong, the hands led him to his chamber, and helped him to bed. The\nnext morning he was awakened by the baying of hounds, and the cries\nof huntsmen under his windows. Jumping up, he quickly looked out, and\nsaw the whole court ready to set out to the forest. When the hands\nhad dressed him in a suit of Lincoln green, he joined the White Cat,\nwho was waiting for him to come and ride by her side to the hunt. She\nwas mounted on a monkey, and the hands led out a wooden horse for the\nPrince to ride. At first he was inclined to be angry at being given\nsuch a clumsy steed, but the White Cat begged him so gently to try it,\nthat he mounted the hobby-horse, and found that he had never ridden\nbetter in his life.\n\nAnd so, day after day, the Prince spent his time at the Castle of\nthe White Cat: feasting, dancing, hunting, and so quickly did the time\ngo by, that he forgot that his year was nearly spent. He had told the\nWhite Cat of his quest, and how he hoped to be able to take back to\nthe King, his father, the most beautiful little dog in the world. But\nso happy was he that he had forgotten all about it, nor would he have\nremembered it at all if the Cat had not called him to her, and said,\n\u201cPrince, to-morrow you must leave me, and go back to your own world.\u201d\n\n[Illustration: THE PRINCE MOUNTED THE HOBBY-HORSE, AND FOUND THAT HE\nHAD NEVER RIDDEN BETTER.--_Page 20._]\n\nThe Prince was heart-broken to think how he had forgotten his promise\nto his father, but the White Cat told him not to grieve, and placed in\nhis hand an acorn, bidding him hold it to his ear. The Prince did so,\nand it seemed to him that he heard the bark of a tiny dog.\n\n\u201cDo not open the acorn until you reach the court of the King, and I\npromise you that all will be well,\u201d she said.\n\nSo the Prince bade good-by to the White Cat sadly enough, and set out\non his homeward journey, riding his awkward hobby-horse, and in far\nless time than he had taken to come, he was back again at the Palace.\nHis brothers had arrived before him, and, as he entered the hall, they\nwere showing off proudly their delicate, highly bred dogs. But when the\nyoungest Prince opened the acorn and displayed his beautiful little\ndog, all black, resting against a white satin cushion, the whole Court\ncried out in admiration that the Kingdom must surely be given to him.\n\nThe old King was a little unwilling, however, to give up ruling yet,\nand the two other brothers begged so hard to have another chance that\nit was finally decided that the Princes should again set out on their\ntravels; and that, this time, the one who should bring home the finest\npiece of linen, long enough to make the king a robe, and delicate\nenough to pass through the eye of a needle, should have the Kingdom\nas his reward. A second time the three Princes started out, but now\nthe youngest Prince refused to allow his retinue to accompany him.\nInstead, he mounted his old hobby-horse, and rode away to the White\nCat\u2019s Castle. When he reached the gate, the whole Court of Cats ran\nto welcome him. The White Cat received him as graciously as before,\nand when the Prince told her the search he had again been sent upon,\nshe smiled, and promised that she would set her cleverest spinners at\nwork. There, for another year, the Prince stayed, and the time went as\nswiftly as happiness always does, and he was amazed when the White Cat\ncalled him to her, and told him that he must go that very night if he\nwished to reach his father\u2019s court in time for the test. Then she put\ninto his hand a walnut, bidding him keep it carefully until he should\nreach the King\u2019s Palace.\n\nJust as before, he arrived as his brothers, believing that he would\nnot come in time, were opening out their webs of linen. Very fine they\nwere. The web that the eldest brother had brought would slip with ease\nthrough a bodkin; the second son\u2019s piece could be drawn through the eye\nof a large darning needle; but the whole Court, remembering what the\nyoungest Prince had already done, waited to see what he had to show. He\ntook the walnut from his pocket and cracked it. Inside was a hazel-nut.\nThis he cracked, too, and, what was his surprise to find a cherry-stone!\n\nWhen he had broken this in halves he saw inside a grain of wheat, and\nin the grain of wheat a millet seed. And then the Prince lost heart,\nand thought that the friend he had so believed in had played him some\ncruel trick. But as this idea passed through his mind he felt a soft\nscratch on his hand to let him know that the White Cat was true. So he\nopened the millet seed, and drew forth the finest web of linen in the\nworld. At the least it was four hundred ells long, and so delicate that\nit would slip with ease through the eye of the smallest needle that\ncould be found.\n\nAll the courtiers cried aloud together that the youngest Prince had\nonce more won the Kingdom, but the elder brothers begged for a third\nchance, and as the old King was still unwilling to give up his throne,\nhe decided that his three sons should again set out, and that the one\nwho brought home the most beautiful maiden should marry her, and that\nas King and Queen they should rule together over his Kingdom.\n\nFor the last time the Princes started forth on their quest. The elder\nbrothers took their own roads, but the youngest, mounting his old\nwooden horse, rode straight to the Castle of the White Cat. She was\nas happy as ever to see him, and soothed away his disappointment,\npromising him all the help in her power. Just as before, the days sped\naway in merry-making, and when the year rolled round again, the White\nCat told the Prince that now the time had come when he was to carry\nback to his father\u2019s Palace the most beautiful girl in the world.\n\n\u201cBut where shall I find her?\u201d cried the Prince, in despair. \u201cI have\ndelayed too long in your castle, and now I shall never rule over my\nfather\u2019s Kingdom.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, you shall,\u201d replied the White Cat. \u201cIf you will do as I bid you,\nyou shall have the most beautiful Princess in the world for your bride.\nTake your sword, cut off my head and tail, and fling me into the fire\nthat burns in the great hall.\u201d\n\nThe Prince angrily refused to do anything so base.\n\n\u201cWhat! After all your kindness would you have me treat you as your\nworst enemy might? No, I would far rather never be King than buy my\ninheritance at such a price,\u201d he said.\n\nBut the White Cat begged so, telling him, with tears in her eyes, that\nit was the greatest favor in the world that could be done her, that, at\nlast, the Prince consented.\n\nHe drew his sword, cut off her head and tail, and flung her into the\nfire. In her stead rose up, to his great wonderment, the most beautiful\ngirl he had ever seen.\n\nShe stretched out her hands to him.\n\n\u201cOh, you have saved me from a horrible enchantment, dear Prince,\u201d she\ncried. \u201cIf you had not done as I asked, all my life long I should have\nremained a cat. I was changed into that shape, and condemned to stay\nso until my death, or until the enchantment should be broken, because\nI displeased the fairies who brought me up. They declared that I must\nmarry the hideous little King of the Dwarfs, and when I refused, and\nshowed them your picture, telling them that you were the only man that\nI would ever wed, they threw this spell over me. And now, if you love\nme as I do you, and wish to marry me, take me to your father\u2019s Palace,\nand the Kingdom shall be yours.\u201d\n\nThe Prince, who all this time had been falling deeper and deeper in\nlove, helped her mount her horse, and followed by her attendants--who\nwere cats no longer, but men and women like themselves--the Prince and\nthe beautiful Princess rode back to his home.\n\nThe brides of the elder brothers were beautiful to see; the Court\ncould not decide which was the lovelier, but when the youngest Prince\nentered the hall, every courtier declared that he had again been\nsuccessful.\n\nThe old King rose from his throne.\n\n\u201cMy son,\u201d he said, \u201cthe Princess you have brought home is the loveliest\nlady that these old eyes have ever seen, and though my Kingdom is all\nunworthy her rule, it is yours; fairly have you won it.\u201d\n\nBut the Princess knelt down beside him, and said:--\n\n\u201cWe will not take your crown from you, for I am Queen of five mighty\nKingdoms. Therefore you shall keep yours, and one each will I give\nto your elder sons, while my husband and I will reign over the other\nthree.\u201d\n\nSo every one was contented, and as for the Prince and his beautiful\nPrincess, none ever ruled more wisely, nor were more beloved by their\nsubjects than they were.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\u201cAnd so they lived happy for ever and ever afterwards,\u201d murmured Dolly,\ncontentedly. \u201cAll nice fairy tales end that way, Impty.\u201d\n\nBut Impty only yawned, and arched his back lazily. Then he jumped down\nfrom the bed.\n\n\u201cI am going to Cat-Land now,\u201d he said, \u201cto get you a story for\nto-morrow night. And I am going to sleep under the big arm-chair, near\nthe door, so that I can slip out when Miss Jane comes in at seven\no\u2019clock. If she sees me, you know she might lock me up in the shed\nto-morrow night, and then, what _would_ we do?\u201d\n\nAnd, in another minute, the little lonely child--not lonely any more,\nbut very happy--and the black, black kitten were fast asleep.\n\n\n\n\nTHE SECOND NIGHT\n\n\nMiss Jane must have been astonished at the willing way Dolly went to\nbed the next night. There never was a child more ready to be undressed;\nand although Miss Jane braided her hair in a tighter, lumpier braid\nthan ever, Dolly never said a word. There was no need for the child to\nsit up in bed and stare at the light slanting through the shutters, as\nshe thought how far away her mother was. Instead, she cuddled into her\npillow contentedly, and as soon as Miss Jane was safely downstairs,\nImpty jumped up, and curled himself into a soft, black ball beside her.\n\n\u201cTo-night,\u201d he began, \u201cto-night I am going to tell you the tale of \u2018The\nKing of the Field-Mice.\u2019\u201d\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration:\n\n  THE KING\n  OF\n  THE\n  FIELD\n  MICE\n]\n\n\nThere was, once upon a time, long, long ago in Japan, a very poor man,\na gardener named Ch\u00fagoro Yamakawa, who, with his wife, Ino-yo San,\nlived in a little cottage on a small plot of ground. All that they had\nto eat they raised in their garden, and their clothes were bought by\nthe money that the old man made in selling his vegetables and fruits\nfrom door to door. Their only treasure was their cat Tam\u00e1, a large,\nsleek fellow, and the finest mouser in the whole neighborhood. Every\nday, when Ch\u00fagoro went to work in his garden, Tam\u00e1 trotted after him,\nand rubbed up against him, as if to say, \u201cMy dear Master! How I wish\nthat I could help you!\u201d\n\nWell, one day, as Ch\u00fagoro was digging around his young bamboo trees,\nTam\u00e1 came bounding through the grass with something in his mouth. The\nold man looked down, and saw that it was a pretty little field-mouse,\nand, as he was a very kind-hearted man, he took it away from the cat,\nwho seemed perfectly contented, and trotted off as if his business was\ndone.\n\nThe field-mouse was not dead, only frightened, and as soon as Ch\u00fagoro\nput it down on the ground again, instead of running away, it sat up on\nits hind legs, and said in the tiniest, clear voice: \u201cI owe you many\nthanks, Ch\u00fagoro Yamakawa, for saving my life. Know, then, that I am the\nKing of all the Field-Mice, and, if you will meet me to-night at the\ndoor of my Palace, I will bestow great riches upon you.\u201d\n\nThe old gardener thanked the little King, and promised to meet him that\nevening as soon as his work was done. So, after sunset, leaving Tam\u00e1\nwith Ino-yo San, he walked through the garden until he reached the hole\nwhere the mouse was waiting for him.\n\n\u201cBut I cannot enter here,\u201d said Ch\u00fagoro, looking at the little hole.\n\u201cOh, yes you can,\u201d answered the King, \u201cfor I will touch you with my\npaw, and then you will grow small like me, and able to enter my\ndwelling.\u201d\n\n[Illustration: \u201cKNOW, THEN, THAT I AM THE KING OF ALL THE FIELD-MICE.\u201d\n\n_Page 43._]\n\nHe stretched out his paw, and immediately the old man shrank and shrank\nuntil he was no larger than the King of the Field-Mice himself.\n\nThey walked together down a narrow passage-way which, after a little,\nwidened into a beautiful hall, all glittering with gold and silver. In\nthe middle was a table richly spread with \u201co-tsu-yu\u201d and salad and raw\nfish, all in gorgeous lacquered bowls, with plenty of \u201csaki\u201d to wash\nthe viands down. There Ch\u00fagoro sat and feasted with the King and the\nQueen and the whole Royal Court, and, as they ate, from the kitchens\ncame the small song of the servant mice, pounding rice for the New\nYear. As they pounded, they sang this strange little ditty:--\n\n    Ton, ton! Neko sai oraneba\n    Nezumi no yo zakare. Ton, ton!\n\n    (When the cat\u2019s away\n    The mice will play!)\n\nAfter the King saw that Ch\u00fagoro could eat no more, he led him to the\ntreasure chamber, and filled his arms with gold and silver and fine\nlacquer work; enough to make him a rich man for life. Then he led him\nthrough the winding passage, and bade him good-by. When the old man was\nout in the fields again, he found that he was the same height that he\nhad always been, and he hurried home to share the good news with Ino-yo\nSan and Tam\u00e1.\n\nWith his riches he built himself a fine new house, and bought jewels\nand silk robes for his wife, and, as for Tam\u00e1, he rested at night on a\ndowny cushion, and lived on everything nice that a cat could wish.\n\nNow, a rich, miserly neighbor of Ch\u00fagoro\u2019s, Giz\u00e6mon Muratani by name,\nseeing the gardener so rich and prosperous where he had always been in\nwant before, called upon him, and begged to know what had brought him\nsuch wealth.\n\nCh\u00fargoro, who was very generous, and who wished all the world to be\nas fortunate as himself, told the whole story to Giz\u00e6mon. Immediately\nthe miser asked that Tam\u00e1 should be lent to him, that he might once\nmore catch the King of the Field-Mice. The gardener willingly agreed,\nand Giz\u00e6mon took Tam\u00e1, and started across the fields, with the cat\ntrotting at his heels. All of a sudden, Tam\u00e1 darted swiftly away, and\ncame bounding back over the grass with something in his mouth. It was\nthe King of the Field-Mice again! Giz\u00e6mon set him free, and--for he was\nvery ungrateful--drove Tam\u00e1 harshly away. The mouse thanked the rich\nman as he had Ch\u00fagoro, and, in the same way, begged him to come that\nnight to the door of his Palace. The miser\u2019s heart swelled with pride\nand vanity.\n\n\u201cNow,\u201d thought he, \u201cI will be richer than my neighbor, for all that the\nField-Mouse gives me, and all that I have myself, will be mine.\u201d\n\nHe could hardly wait for the sun to set, he was so anxious to gather up\nhis riches.\n\nThe King met him at the doorway, and touched him with his paw. Like\nCh\u00fagoro, he grew smaller and smaller until he could follow the King\ndown the little winding passage. When the banquet hall was reached,\nhe was seated at the King\u2019s right hand, and served with all sorts of\ndelicious food; but the greedy man looked around instead of eating,\nand, as he saw how many fine things there were in the room, and, as he\nheard the little kitchen mice singing away, as they pounded:--\n\n    Ton, ton! Neko sai oraneba,\n    Nezumi no yo zakare. Ton, ton!\n\nhe thought, \u201cWhat a fine thing it would be for me if I could make\nthese mice believe that a Cat _was_ here! Then they would run away,\nand all these riches would be mine!\u201d\n\nSo he called out in a loud voice, \u201cMiaou! Miaou! Miaou!\u201d and the\nlittle, frightened mice fled away in a tremble. Giz\u00e6mon was beginning\nto gather up the gold and silver dishes, when, all at once, he found he\nwas growing taller and taller and taller. He ran to the door, but he\nwas much too large to get out. He dropped all his stolen riches, but he\nkept on growing bigger and bigger and bigger until he grew right up in\nthe field like a potato, and a farmer who was digging there cracked his\nhead with a hoe.\n\nAnd so his greediness and ingratitude were rewarded, but as for Ch\u00fagoro\nYamakawa and his wife Ino-yo San, they lived with Tam\u00e1, their cat,\nhappy for ever and ever afterwards, as you say.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\u201cBut I _do_ think,\u201d Impty added, as he jumped down from the bed, and\nwent to hide under the arm-chair, \u201cI do _really_ think that Tam\u00e1 was\na wonderful cat not to have eaten the field-mouse that last time. I\u2019m\nafraid _I_ should.\u201d\n\n\n\n\nTHE THIRD NIGHT\n\n\nImpty came dancing out of his hiding-place as soon as the sound of Miss\nJane\u2019s footsteps died away on the stair.\n\n\u201c\u2018Pussy Cat, Pussy Cat, where have you been?\u2019\u201d cried the little girl\ngayly.\n\n\u201cWell, I haven\u2019t been _quite_ to London to look at the Queen,\u201d answered\nImpty, as he pranced across to Dolly\u2019s pillow, and curled down beside\nher. \u201cBut I\u2019ve been somewhere that\u2019s very nearly as good, for I\u2019ve\nvisited the Court of the Countess von Rustenfustenmustencrustenberg,\nand heard there the story of \u2018The Discontented Cat,\u2019 and I\u2019m going to\ntell you to-night the tale of her adventures, and how she was taught to\nbe happy instead of being always dissatisfied.\u201d\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration:\n\n  THE\n  DISCONTENTED CAT\n]\n\n\nOnce upon a time--I can\u2019t say exactly when it was--there stood a neat,\ntidy little hut on the borders of a wild forest. A poor old woman dwelt\nin this hut. She lived on the whole pretty comfortably; for though\nshe was poor, she was able to keep a few goats, that supplied her\nwith milk, and a flock of chickens, that gave her fresh eggs every\nmorning; and then she had a small garden, which she cultivated with her\nown hands, and that supplied her with cabbages and other vegetables,\nbesides gooseberries and apples for dumplings. Her goats browsed upon\nthe short grass just outside the garden, and her chickens ran about\neverywhere, and picked up everything they could find. There were some\nfine old trees which defended the cottage on three sides from the\ncold winds, and the front was to the south, so it was very snug and\nsheltered. The forest afforded her sticks and young logs for fuel, so\nthat she was never in want of a fire; and, altogether, she managed to\nmake out a pretty comfortable life of it, as times went.\n\nThe only friend and companion the old woman had was her gray cat. Now,\nthe cat was a middle-aged cat: she had arrived at a time of life when\npeople grow reflective; and she sat by the hearth and reflected very\noften. What did she reflect about? That is rather a long story. You\nmust know, then, that a few leagues from the old woman\u2019s hut, at the\nother end of the forest, there rose a grand castle, belonging to a very\ngreat baron. And sometimes, on fine summer mornings, as the old woman\nand the cat were sitting in the sunshine, by the door, the old woman at\nher spinning-wheel, and puss curled up for a nap after her breakfast,\nthe forest would suddenly ring with the sound of hunting-horns, shouts,\nand laughter; and a train of gay ladies and richly dressed gentlemen\nwould sweep by on horseback, with hawk and hound, and followed by\nservants in splendid liveries; for the Baron was fond of hawking and\nhunting, and frequently took those diversions in the neighboring\nforests. Now, it so happened that in one of the tall trees behind the\ncottage there lived a magpie, not by any means an ordinary magpie, but\na bird that had seen a good deal of the world; indeed, at one time\nof her life, she had, as she took care to inform everybody, lived\nin the service of the Countess von Rustenfustenmustencrustenberg.\nHow she happened to leave such a grand situation, the magpie never\nexplained: to be sure, some ill-natured people did say that there had\nbeen an awkward story about the loss of one of the Countess\u2019s diamond\nbracelets, which was found one fine morning in the inside of a hollow\ntree in the garden; and that Mag was turned away in disgrace directly.\nBut how the matter really was I cannot say; all I know is, that she\ntook up her abode halfway up one of the large oaks, behind the old\nwoman\u2019s hut, a long time before our story begins; and that, being of a\nparticularly sociable and chatty disposition, she soon established an\nardent friendship with the cat, and they became the greatest cronies\nin the world. So when, as I said just now, the Baron\u2019s grand hunting\nparties swept past, they afforded the magpie a fine opportunity for\ndisplaying her knowledge of life and the world. And sometimes, too,\nshe would dwell at great length on the splendor and happiness she had\nenjoyed while she lived with the Countess in her Palace, till the\ncat\u2019s fur almost stood on end to hear the wonders she related. What a\nplace that Palace must have been! Very different, indeed, from the old\nwoman\u2019s cottage.\n\nNow these conversations with the magpie sadly unsettled the mind of the\ncat; more particularly when the magpie related to her how daintily the\nCountess von Rustenfustenmustencrustenberg\u2019s cat always lived,--what\nnice bits of chicken she dined upon, what delicious morsels of buttered\ncrumpet she often had for breakfast, what soft cushions she lay upon,\nand a great deal more to the same purpose: all of which made a powerful\nimpression upon our wondering friend. So she sat and reflected by the\nfire, while the good old woman, her mistress, went on spinning the wool\nwhich she sold afterwards at the nearest town, to buy food and clothes.\n\nThe more the cat talked to the magpie, the more dissatisfied she became\nwith her present condition; till, at last, I am sadly afraid that when,\nin a morning, the old woman gave her her breakfast of goats\u2019 milk\nwith some nice brown bread broken into it, she began rather to despise\nit, instead of taking it thankfully, as she ought to have done, for\nshe was very comfortably off in the cottage--having bread and milk\nevery morning and night, and something for dinner, too; besides what\nmice she could catch, to say nothing of a stray sparrow or squirrel\nnow and then. But, as I said just now, the magpie\u2019s chattering stories\nunsettled her; she thought it would be so charming to dine upon bits\nof roast chicken, and have buttered crumpets for breakfast, and fine\ncushions to lie upon, like the Countess\u2019s cat. All this was very silly,\nno doubt; but she wanted experience: she knew nothing of the thousands\nand thousands of poor cats who would have thought her life quite\nluxurious. It is a very bad thing to get unsettled; it sets people\nwishing and doing many foolish things.\n\nOne fine bright evening the magpie was perched upon the projecting\nbough of her oak, and the cat, who thought the cottage particularly\ndull that day, had come out for a little gossip.\n\n\u201cGood evening!\u201d screamed the magpie, as soon as she saw her; \u201cdo come\nup here and let us chat a little.\u201d So the cat climbed up, and seated\nherself on another bough a little below.\n\n\u201cYou look out of spirits to-day,\u201d began the magpie, bending down a very\ninquisitive eye to her friend\u2019s face. \u201cI am afraid you are not well.\nBut I am not surprised. That old sparrow I saw you eating for dinner\nmust have been as tough as leather. It\u2019s no wonder you are ill after\nit! You should really be more careful, and only catch the nice tender\nyoung ones.\u201d\n\n\u201cThank you,\u201d replied the cat, in a rather melancholy tone, \u201cI am\nperfectly well.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen what in the world ails you, my dear friend?\u201d\n\n\u201cI don\u2019t know,\u201d answered the cat, \u201cbut I believe I am getting rather\ntired of staying here all my life.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh!\u201d exclaimed the magpie, \u201cI know what that is--I feel for you, Puss;\nyou may well be moped, living in that stupid cottage all day. You are\nnot like myself, now; _I_ have had such advantages! I declare to you I\ncan amuse myself the whole day with the recollection of the wonderful\nthings I have seen when I lived in the great world.\u201d\n\n\u201cThere it is,\u201d interrupted the cat. \u201cTo think of the difference in\npeople\u2019s situations! Just compare my condition in this wretched hole of\na hut, with the life you say the Countess\u2019s cat lives. I\u2019m sure I can\nhardly eat my sop in the morning for thinking of her buttered crumpets.\nIt\u2019s a fine thing to be born in a Palace!\u201d\n\n\u201cIndeed,\u201d replied the magpie, \u201cthere is a great deal of truth in what\nyou say; and sometimes I half repent of having retired from her service\nmyself; but there\u2019s a great charm in liberty--it is pleasant to feel\nable to fly about wherever one likes, and have no impertinent questions\nasked.\u201d\n\n\u201cDoes the Countess\u2019s cat ever do any work?\u201d inquired puss.\n\n\u201cNot a bit,\u201d answered the magpie. \u201cI don\u2019t suppose she ever caught a\nmouse in her life. Why should she? She has plenty to eat and drink,\nand nothing to do but to sleep or play all day long.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat a life!\u201d cried the cat. \u201cAnd here am I, obliged to take the\ntrouble to catch birds or anything I can, if I want to make out my\ndinner. What a world it is!\u201d\n\n\u201cYour most obedient servant, ladies,\u201d just at that moment hooted an old\nowl from a neighboring fir-tree. \u201cA fine evening to you!\u201d\n\n\u201cDear me, Mr. Owl! How you made me jump!\u201d cried the magpie, quite\ncrossly, \u201cI nearly tumbled down from the bough!\u201d\n\nTo tell the truth, the magpie did not particularly care for the owl\u2019s\ncompany. He was apt to say very rude things sometimes; besides, he\nwas thought a very sensible bird, and Mag always declared she hated\nsensible birds--they were so dreadfully dull, and thought themselves so\nmuch wiser than other people.\n\nBut the cat was not sorry to have a chance to tell her woes to any one\nwho was so generally respected for his wisdom, and she said at once:--\n\n\u201cWe were talking, my dear sir, on the wide differences there are in\nthe world.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou may well say that,\u201d answered the owl, giving a blink with his\nleft eye. \u201cI suppose,\u201d he added, turning to the magpie, \u201cthat your\nladyship finds a good deal of difference between your present abode and\nthe Countess\u2019s grand palace garden. I only wonder how you could bring\nyourself to make such a change--at your time of life, too.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat a very rude speech,\u201d thought the magpie; she fidgeted upon the\nbranch, drew herself up, and muttered something about people minding\ntheir own business.\n\n\u201cBut you, my dear cat,\u201d went on the owl, \u201cyou have every reason to be\nsatisfied with your lot in life.\u201d\n\n\u201cI am not so sure of that,\u201d said the cat. \u201cI think I have a good many\nreasons for being quite the contrary; the Countess\u2019s cat has cream and\nbuttered crumpets for breakfast, and sleeps on a beautiful soft cushion\nall night, and all day, too, if she likes it; and just look what a dull\nlife of it I lead here! And I have nothing but the hearth to lie upon,\nand nothing for breakfast but milk and brown bread!\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd you ought to be thankful you can get that,\u201d cried the owl, quite\nangrily. \u201cI can tell you what, Mrs. Puss, I have seen more of the world\nthan you have, and I just say this for your comfort--if you could see\nhow some poor cats live, you would be glad enough of your present\ncondition.\u201d\n\n\u201cHumph!\u201d muttered the cat, \u201cI really don\u2019t see how _you_ have contrived\nto see so much of the world, sitting as you do in a tree all day. I\nshould think that the magpie ought to know something of life, after\nthe high society she has lived in; and I _do_ say it\u2019s a shame that one\ncat should have buttered crumpets and cream for breakfast, just because\nshe happens to live in a palace, while another has only brown sop,\nbecause she happens to live in a cottage!\u201d\n\n\u201cBut suppose,\u201d replied the owl, \u201cthat some other cat, who lives in a\ncellar, and never gets anything to eat, except what she can pick up in\nthe gutters, should take it into her head to say, \u2018What a shame it is\nthat some cats should have nice, snug cottages over their heads, and\nwarm hearths to sit by, and bread and milk for breakfast, while I am\nobliged to live in this horrid, cold cellar, and never know how to get\na mouthful?\u2019\u201d\n\nBut the cat could not believe him.\n\n\u201cMy dear Mr. Owl,\u201d she said, \u201cyou can\u2019t really mean that there are any\nsuch poor cats in the world. I am sure that the magpie, with all her\nexperience of life, would have told me about it, if it were really so.\nYou must be mistaken.\u201d\n\nThe magpie was, by this time, very tired of such a long silence, and\nshe broke in with:--\n\n\u201cYou will excuse me, my worthy friend, but really you do sit there so,\nday after day, blinking in the sun, without a soul to speak to, that I\ndon\u2019t wonder at your taking very strange fancies into your head. I can\nonly say that, during the whole of my residence in the Palace of the\nCountess von Rustenfustenmustencrustenberg, my late respected mistress,\nI never came in contact with any cat in the condition you are pleased\nto mention, and _I_ should know something of the world, I think.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell,\u201d said the owl quietly, \u201cI will not dispute your ladyship\u2019s\nknowledge of the world, but I strongly advise our friend, Mrs. Puss, to\nremain contented at home, and not try to improve her fortune by going\ninto the town. People should learn to know when they are well off.\u201d\n\nJust then, patter, patter, patter, came a few large drops through the\nleaves; the magpie, making a prodigious chattering, and declaring\nthat a tremendous storm was coming on, flew down from the bough; and\nwhispering to the cat not to mind what the owl said,--\u201ca stupid\nold bird,\u201d--she hid herself, very snugly, in a hollow place in the\ntrunk--not at all sorry, to tell the truth, to end the conversation.\nThe owl nestled himself in a thick bush of ivy that grew near, and the\ncat ran into the cottage, to sit by the fire and reflect, for between\nher two friends her mind was a little puzzled.\n\nThe old woman shut the cottage door, heaped some dry fir logs on the\nfire, and sat down to her spinning-wheel. The rain pelted against the\nshutters, the wind howled in the tree tops, and roared loudly in the\nforest behind the hut; it was a terrible night out of doors, but within\nthe cottage it was snug enough; the fire was blazing merrily, the old\nwoman\u2019s wheel turned briskly round, the kettle was singing a low, quiet\nsong to itself beside the crackling logs, and the cat was sitting\non the hearth looking warm and comfortable. But she was not at all\ncomfortable in her mind, for discontented people seldom are. It never\nentered her head to consider whether there were any poor cats abroad\nthat night, without a shelter over them. In fact, she could think of\nnothing just at this time but the luxuries enjoyed by the fortunate\ncats who might happen to be born in grand palaces: so, curled up in\nthe warmest corner of the hearth, she sat watching the little spouts\nof flame that kept flashing up from the pine logs, and wishing for the\nhundredth time that day, that she had had the good luck to be a palace\ncat. Presently a very strange thing happened.\n\nAll of a sudden, she felt something very lightly touch her coat, and\nlooking round, there stood, close by her, the most beautiful little\nthing that anybody ever dreamt of. She was not many inches high, her\nrobe seemed made of gold and silver threads fine as gossamer, woven\ntogether. On her head she wore a circlet of diamonds, so small and\nbright that they looked like sparks of fire, and in her tiny hand she\nbore a long and very slight silver wand.\n\nThe cat looked at her with astonishment; it was very odd that the old\nwoman did not seem to see her at all.\n\nThe beautiful little lady looked at the cat for a minute or two very\nsteadily; and then said, \u201cYou are wishing for something; what is it?\u201d\n\nBy this time the cat had recovered from her fright, and was able to\nspeak, so she answered, \u201cPlease your Majesty, whoever you are, you have\nguessed right for once--I _am_ wishing for something. I wish to live in\nthe Palace of the magpie\u2019s grand Countess!\u201d\n\nWonderful to relate--the words were no sooner spoken than the fairy\nstruck her wand upon the floor three times, and lo! and behold!\ninstantly there appeared a car made of four large scallop-shells joined\ntogether, and lined with rich velvet; the wheels were studded with\nthe whitest pearls, and it was drawn by eight silver pheasants. The\nfairy seated herself inside, and told the cat to step in after her.\nPuss obeyed, and in an instant the hut, the old woman, and the little\ngarden, all had vanished, and she and the fairy were sailing through\nthe air as fast as the eight pheasants could fly.\n\n\u201cWhere in the world are we going, please your Majesty?\u201d said poor puss\nin a dreadfully frightened tone, clinging to the sides of the car\nwith her claws, so that she might not be tossed out. \u201cHush!\u201d said the\nfairy, in a voice so solemn that the cat did not venture to ask another\nquestion.\n\nOn, on, on they flew, and the wild heath swelled into mountains and\nsank again into plain and valley; and they heard beneath them, like\nthe distant sea, the rustling of the wind among the clumps of pine\ntrees. On, on, the birds flew, till at length there appeared far below\nthem, the glimmering lights and dim outlines of a stately city. On, on,\nthe birds flew, and the city grew nearer and nearer; turrets and spires\nand ancient gables rose in the bright moonlight, and the houses grew\nthicker and thicker together.\n\nAt length the pheasants flew more slowly, and the cat saw that they\nwere approaching a marvellous building. How her heart beat, partly\nwith fright, partly with the rapid motion, partly with hope. Yes, they\nwere really drawing near a magnificent Palace. It had high towers and\ncarved gate-ways, that threw strange deep shadows upon the walls, and\nthe panes of the lattices glittered like diamonds in the moonbeams, and\nsmoke from the chimneys curled up into the cat\u2019s face, and got down\nher throat, and made her sneeze dreadfully--she wondered how the fairy\ncould bear it. But now, slowly, slowly, slowly, the magic car began\nto descend, till it was just on a level with one of the windows, which\nhappened, very conveniently, to have been left wide open; so in flew\nthe pheasants, car and all, and alighted on the hearth-rug. \u201cJump out;\nbe quick!\u201d cried the fairy. The cat did not wait to be told twice--she\nwas out in a twinkling; but before she could turn her head round,\ncar, fairy, and pheasants had vanished, and she was left alone in the\nstrange room. And what a room it was! It was so large that three or\nfour huts like her old mistress\u2019s would have stood in it. The floor\nwas covered with something so thick, so warm, and so beautiful, all\nover flowers in bright colors, that she had never seen anything like it\nbefore: in short, everything in the room was so fine or so soft or so\nlarge or so bright, that the cat could not conceive what such strange\nthings could be meant for.\n\nHowever, she soon decided that the hearth-rug was the most delightful\nbed she had ever rested upon; and stretching out her limbs upon it,\nbefore the huge fire that was burning in the grate, she tried to\ncollect her scattered ideas before she went any farther in these\nunknown regions. Suddenly the door opened.\n\n\u201cDear me! What a pretty cat!\u201d cried a waiting-maid, entering the room,\n\u201cand just when we are wanting another, too. My lady, the Countess, will\nbe quite pleased.\u201d Then, coming up to the cat, she took her in her\narms, and began stroking her most affectionately. \u201cPretty Pussy! How\ndid you ever get into the room? Oh, I see! They left the window open,\nand so you wandered in out of the street, poor little cat. It\u2019s really\nquite lucky, just as the old one is dead.\u201d So saying, she again stroked\nthe cat, and carried her away into the inner room, where there sat an\nold lady in an easy chair by the fire eating her supper.\n\n\u201cPlease, your ladyship,\u201d said the waiting-woman, \u201chere\u2019s a poor cat\ncome into the house to-night, just as we were wanting one--will your\nladyship be pleased to let it remain here?\u201d\n\n\u201cTo be sure,\u201d said the old Countess von\nRustenfustenmustencrustenberg,--for it was she,--\u201cit has come just in\ntime to supply the place of poor old Finette. Put it into Finette\u2019s bed\nto-night, Ermengarde, and give it a good meal first, for I dare say it\nis hungry enough, poor creature. Bring it here to me, and let me stroke\nit.\u201d\n\nYou may imagine how puss purred her very loudest as the Countess patted\nher, and called her a pretty cat. She thought herself now the luckiest\ncat in the world. How she wished that spiteful old owl could but know\nabout it. Ermengarde now took her back into the first room she had\nentered, and setting her down on the hearth-rug, went out. Presently\nshe returned, and placed before the cat a dish that held such a supper\nas she had never dreamed of. However, she did full justice to it in\ntime; and then, after some more patting and petting, the maid again\ntook her up, and placed her by the side of the fire in a very pretty\nbasket lined with soft cushions.\n\nThe next morning the cat was awake early; the sun was shining through\nthe satin curtains of the splendid room, and everything in it looked\nso _very_ beautiful! How different from the old woman\u2019s hut! So the\ncat sat up in the basket, and looked about her. After she had amused\nherself in this way for some time, Ermengarde opened the door.\n\n\u201cWell, Pussy,\u201d she said, \u201cso you are wide awake, and ready, I dare say,\nfor your breakfast.\u201d\n\nNow for the buttered crumpets! thought the cat. The maid went out,\nand quickly brought back a large saucer of rich milk, with some roll\ncrumbled into it. No buttered crumpets!\n\nPuss was really disappointed. It was certainly very strange, but\nperhaps she should have some another morning. However, she made a\nvery good breakfast, but she was a little cross all day. Soon after\nbreakfast the Countess came in, followed by a lapdog--a fat, spoilt,\ndisagreeable-looking animal--and the cat took a dislike to him at\nfirst sight. And as for the dog, he almost growled out loud when the\nCountess stooped down to stroke the cat.\n\n\u201cNow, Viper,\u201d said the old lady, \u201cbe good! You know you are my own\ndarling, that you are; but you must not quarrel with poor pussy. No\nfighting, you know, Viper!\u201d\n\nWhereupon Viper struggled down out of his mistress\u2019s arms, for she had\ntaken him up to kiss him, and giving a short snarl, he mounted upon a\nstool before the fire, and sat eying his new acquaintance with such a\nfierce look that the poor cat really shook all over, and wished herself\nsafe out of the Palace again. However, whenever the Countess left\nthe room, she always called Viper away, too; so they were not left\ntogether at all the first day. After a little the cat began to get used\nto Viper\u2019s cross looks, and did not mind him a great deal: and the old\nlady petted and made so much of her, that she thought no cat had ever\nbeen so fortunate before.\n\n[Illustration: THE COUNTESS CAME IN, FOLLOWED BY A LAPDOG.--_Page 97._]\n\nOne day Viper was to dine with the cat, and Ermengarde brought in two\nplates this time, and to work they fell with all their might. Viper had\neaten up nearly all his own dinner, and the cat was saving a beautiful\n_merrythought_ for her last titbit when, as ill luck would have it, the\nCountess was suddenly called out of the room.\n\nInstantly, with a growl that sounded like thunder in the cat\u2019s ears,\nViper darted right at the _merrythought_, crying:--\n\n\u201cYou vile little wretch of a stray cat, do you suppose I shall allow\nyou to come in here and rob me of my bones?\u201d\n\n\u201cIndeed, my lord,\u201d said the cat, very much frightened, \u201cI did not mean\nto take more than my share!\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd pray, madam,\u201d screamed Viper, \u201cwhat do you mean by that? Do you\nthink that I have taken more than mine? Now, Mrs. Puss, just listen to\nme, once for all: if you give me any more of your impertinence, I\u2019ll\nworry you to death in two minutes!\u201d\n\nPoor puss! She trembled so from head to tail that she could hardly\nstand, but just as she was going to beg him not to be angry, the\nCountess came in again, and took Viper for his afternoon ride. Poor\npuss! She was very sad all evening, and she wished many times that\nshe had never left her mistress\u2019s cottage. True, she had cream for\nbreakfast and chicken for dinner, but what was that worth, if every\nmouthful she ate she feared that Viper would snatch from her?\n\nFifty times did she wish herself a hundred leagues off! How careful\nshe resolved to be to do nothing that could possibly offend the dog.\nAnd so, for the next three or four days, by dint of giving up to him\nall her best bones, and always jumping up from her cushion whenever\nhe wanted to lie upon it, she managed to get on in halfway peace with\nhis lordship. But unluckily, one morning, puss, finding herself all\nalone in the drawing-room, and feeling very sleepy--she had not rested\nfor nights from very fear--thought she might as well take the chance\nof getting a nap. Jumping upon a high footstool near the fire, she was\nsoon asleep. How long she had napped she could not tell, when she was\nawakened by a furious barking, and, opening her eyes, she saw Viper\nstanding at a little distance, looking as if he were going into fits\nwith rage.\n\nPoor puss! She recollected all in a moment that she had got upon\nViper\u2019s own footstool! She jumped down before you could count one!\n\n\u201cYou audacious little upstart!\u201d cried the dog, as soon as he could\nspeak from wrath. \u201cDo you think I shall submit to such liberties?\u201d\n\n\u201cIndeed, I humbly beg your lordship\u2019s pardon,\u201d stammered the poor cat,\n\u201cbut I really quite forgot--\u201d\n\n\u201cForgot, indeed!\u201d roared Viper, \u201cI\u2019ll teach you to forget, Mrs. Puss!\u201d\nand making a tremendous dash at her, he would have finished her in no\ntime, had not, fortunately, the window been open a little--just enough\nfor the cat to get through.\n\nShe was on the window-seat in an instant, and had scrambled out of the\nwindow before Viper, who was very fat, could come up to her. It was\nwith some difficulty that he got upon the window-seat, and quite in\nvain that he tried to squeeze his fat body through the opening of the\nwindow. How he growled with disappointed rage, as he stood on his hind\nlegs on the window-seat, stretching his head, as far as his little\nshort neck would allow, through the opening, to see what had become of\npuss.\n\nWhat _had_ become of her? She had dropped down into the street, and had\ncrept into the shade of one of the heavy broad-stone carvings beneath\nthe window, and there she lay, panting with fright, to get her breath\na little, and think what was to be done. To go back to the Palace was\nout of the question. But then, where could she go? Poor cat! What a\nmuddle she was in! She lay snug for the best part of an hour before she\ndared venture out of her hiding-place. At last, peeping all about her,\nshe crept out and ran, with all her speed, down the street, not knowing\nin the least where she was flying. She had not gone far before some\nragamuffins caught sight of her. Shouting, whooping, laughing, they\nchased her. She ran faster and faster, and darting suddenly down an\nalley, was soon out of sight of her pursuers. She heard their screams\nand yellings growing fainter and fainter in the distance, and feeling\nthat the immediate danger was past, she stopped to look, and see where\nshe was. She found that she was in a little, dirty, miserable court,\nopen at one end, through which she saw trees and green fields. So she\nran on, and, in a short time, she found that she had left the town\nbehind her, and was once more in the open country. At last she came to\na small clump of trees which put her in mind of the forest near her old\nmistress\u2019s hut. She climbed up in the largest one, knowing that she\nwould be safe from dogs there at least, and finding a snug place among\nthe branches in the middle of the tree,--for though it was autumn, yet\nthe leaves were still pretty thick,--she made up her mind to pass the\nnight there.\n\nBut what was she to do for supper? Her squabble with Viper had taken\nplace before dinner, and now there was no chance of anything but\nwhat she could get herself. Perhaps she might, with good luck, catch\na bird before night, but that could not take the place of the nice\nbits of fowl and saucers of rich milk that Ermengarde gave her every\nnight. However, she was too glad to be safe and snug up in the tree\nto be very fussy. So she made up her mind to lie there till it grew\ntowards roosting time, and then see what she could find for supper. At\nlast nightfall came, and the birds flew back to their nests. In a few\nminutes she caught a robin, but that was all she had that night, and\nweary and hungry the cat climbed back in the tree again, and was soon\nasleep. When she woke, she was still hungry, and she ached in every\nbone. So three or four days passed, until poor puss began to think she\nwould never be able to find her way back to her old home in the forest,\nand, at last, quite ready to die of cold and hunger, she stretched\nherself out on a thick bed of leaves, and cried, \u201cOh, that I had never\nlistened to that deceitful, mischievous magpie!\u201d\n\nIt was drawing towards sunset; there had been several storms during the\nday, but, as the evening came on, the weather had cleared up a little,\nand a gleam of sunshine just then shot out from among the black\nclouds, and fell upon something glittering beside her.\n\nShe lifted her eyes slowly, for she had no strength to be alert now,\nand saw the bright and beautiful fairy, with her car drawn by the\nsilver pheasants.\n\n\u201cHave you learnt yet to be contented with plain fare at home?\u201d asked\nthe fairy.\n\n\u201cOh, if you would only take me back to my old mistress,\u201d cried the poor\ncat, \u201cI should never, never be discontented again!\u201d\n\nThe fairy smiled, and touching her lightly with her silver wand,\nbade her close her eyes--another moment, and she bade her open them:\nand--most wonderful of all wonderful things that had happened to\nher--the trees, the country, the distant city, all were gone! There was\na fine log-fire on the hearth, sparkling and crackling; whirr, whirr,\nwhirr, went the old woman\u2019s wheel, and there she sat in her chair just\nas usual. The wind was blowing and the rain was pelting against the\nshutters, exactly as it had done the night puss left the cottage in\nsuch a strange way. In fact, everything looked entirely the same. The\ncat rubbed her eyes, but nothing could she see of the fairy, or the\ncar, or the silver pheasants.\n\nHow had she got back, and so quick, too? And the old woman did not\nseem at all surprised to see her. It was very odd! She could not make\nit out, anyhow; and at last it struck her that perhaps she might have\nbeen dreaming, and never been out of the hut at all. Yet those terrible\ngrowls of Viper\u2019s, and those dismal nights and days in the trees! No,\nthey must have been real!\n\nBut her puzzling was broken into by the cheerful voice of her old\nmistress, calling out, \u201cCome, my pussy! It is supper-time!\u201d As she\nspoke, she rose from her spinning-wheel, and taking down some eggs and\na cake of brown bread, with a large jug from her corner cupboard, she\nbroke the eggs into the frying-pan, and they were soon hissing and\nsputtering over the fire. Then she placed a large saucer on the table,\nand broke some bread into it; and, turning to the fire, she took off\nthe frying-pan, and emptied the eggs into a dish on the table, and sat\ndown to her supper. But before she tasted a bit herself, she poured\nsome nice goat\u2019s milk over the bread, and set it down on the hearth\nbefore the cat.\n\nNow I will venture to say puss never before in her life ate a meal so\nthankfully. She made a resolution after every mouthful never to say\none word to that silly, chattering magpie again; and never to wish any\nmore foolish wishes, but to stay at home, do her duty in catching her\nmistress\u2019s mice, and be contented and thankful for the brown bread and\nmilk, without troubling her head about countesses and buttered crumpets\nany more.\n\nShe kept her word. She never spoke to the magpie afterwards, but was a\nsteady friend of the owl until the day of his death; and when he did\ndie, which was not until he was very old, he left to her, in his will,\nhis share of the mice that lived in the neighborhood of the cottage.\n\nAs to the magpie, finding that her company was no longer wanted in\nthat part of the world, she very wisely took her flight far away to the\nother side of the wood.\n\nWhether she still lives there, and goes on chattering about the\ngrand things she used to see in the Palace of the Countess von\nRustenfustenmustencrustenberg, is more than I can tell you. If you\nwant to find out, you must go to the northern part of the Duchy of\nKittencorkenstringen; and then you must walk seventeen leagues and\nthree-quarters still farther north; and then you must turn off to your\nright, just where you see the old fir-stump with the rook\u2019s nest in\nit; and then you must walk eleven leagues and a quarter more, and then\nturn to your left, and after you have kept on for about fifteen leagues\nmore, you will see the wood where the magpie lives; and then if you\nwalk quite through it to the other side, you will see the old woman\u2019s\ncottage; and, if it should happen to be a fine day, I dare say you will\nsee her sitting in the sunshine spinning, and, curled round beside\nher, the Contented Cat.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\u201cWhat a nice story, Impty,\u201d said Dolly, as the black kitten purred out\nthe last word. \u201cAnd don\u2019t you just love that old owl?\u201d\n\n\u201cI always _did_ like owls myself,\u201d Impty answered. \u201cThey seem so much\nmore like cats than birds. Their feathers are so thick they look like\nfur, and then, owls see in the dark as well as cats do, and they eat\nmice, and are really _most_ respectable. But good night, now,\u201d he\nadded, jumping down from the bed, \u201cwe\u2019ve had such a long story-time\nthis evening, that I must go to sleep at once, if I am to have another\ntale ready for you to-morrow.\u201d\n\n\n\n\nTHE FOURTH NIGHT\n\n\n\u201cWe sat up so disgracefully late last night,\u201d began Impty, yawning,\n\u201cthat I\u2019m sleepy yet. _I_ had to go to Cat-Land, you know, and although\nthat\u2019s very pleasant, still, it isn\u2019t much of a rest.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat are you going to tell me to-night?\u201d Dolly asked, as she made a\nplace on the pillow for the black kitten.\n\n\u201cTo-night it\u2019s going to be a shorter story,\u201d Impty replied. \u201cThey call\nit, in Cat-Land, \u2018The Cat Who Married a Mouse.\u2019\u201d\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration:\n\n  THE CAT WHO MARRIED A\n  MOUSE\n]\n\n\nOnce upon a time, a cat and a mouse made friends, and at last they grew\nto love each other very much, for the mouse was a clever little thing,\nand puss was as fine a cat as you could hope to see in a day\u2019s journey.\nSo they decided to marry, and live always in the same house, and be\nvery comfortable indeed.\n\nOne day, during the summer, the cat said to his wife, \u201cMy dear, we\nmust take care to lay in a store for the winter, or we shall die with\nhunger; you, little Mousey, cannot venture to go about anywhere for\nfear you should be caught in a trap, but I had better go and see about\nit.\u201d\n\nThis good advice was followed, and in a few days Tom came safely back\nwith a large jar full of beautiful meat covered with fat, which he\nhad found. They had a long talk about a place in which to hide this\ntreasure; but at last Tom said: \u201cI don\u2019t know a better place than the\nchurch. No one ever thinks of robbing a church; so if we place the jar\nunder the altar, and take care not to touch it, then we shall have\nplenty to eat in the winter.\u201d\n\nThe jar was carried to church, and put in a place of safety, but the\nmeat did not stay there long.\n\nTom kept thinking of what was in the jar, and longing so much for a\ntaste, that at last he made an excuse to get away from home.\n\n\u201cMousey,\u201d he said, one day, \u201cI have had an invitation from one of my\ncousins to be present at the christening of her little son who was born\na few weeks ago. He is a beautiful kitten, she tells me,--gray, with\nblack stripes,--and my cousin wishes me to be godfather.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, yes! Go, by all means,\u201d replied the mouse. \u201cBut when you are\nenjoying yourself, think of me, and bring me a drop of the sweet, red\nwine if you can.\u201d Tom promised to do as she asked him, and went off as\nif he were going to see his cousin. But after all it was not true. Tom\nhad no cousin, nor had he been asked to be godfather.\n\nNo, he went right off to the church, and slipped under the table where\nthe jar of meat stood, and sat looking at it. He did not look for\nlong, however, for presently he went close up and began licking and\nlicking the fat on the top of the jar, till it was nearly all gone.\nThen he took a walk on the roofs of the houses in the town, and finally\nstretched himself out in the sun, and stroked his whiskers as often\nas he thought of the delicious feast he had just had. As soon as the\nevening closed in, he returned home.\n\n\u201cOh! Here you are again,\u201d said the mouse. \u201cHave you spent a pleasant\nday?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, indeed,\u201d he replied. \u201cEverything passed off very well.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd what name did they give the young kitten?\u201d she asked.\n\n\u201cTop-off,\u201d said Tom, quite coolly.\n\n\u201cTop-off!\u201d cried the mouse. \u201cThat _is_ a curious and uncommon name! Is\nit a family name?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is a very old name in our family,\u201d replied the cat. \u201cAnd it\u2019s not\nworse than Thieves, as your ancestors were called.\u201d\n\nPoor little mousey made no reply, and for a while nothing more was said\nabout Tom\u2019s cousins.\n\nBut Tom could not forget the jar of meat in the church, and the thought\nof it made him long so much that he was obliged to make up another\ntale of a christening. So he told the little mouse, that a lady-cat,\nhis aunt, had invited him this time, and that the kitten was a great\nbeauty, all black, excepting a white ring around its neck, so he could\nnot refuse to be present.\n\n\u201cFor one day, dear Mousey, you will do me this kindness, and keep house\nat home alone?\u201d he asked.\n\nThe good little mouse willingly agreed, and Tom ran off; but as soon\nas he reached the town, he jumped over the churchyard wall, and very\nquickly found his way to the place where the jar of meat was hidden.\nThis time he feasted so greedily, that when he had finished, the jar\nwas more than half empty.\n\n\u201cIt tastes as nice as it smells,\u201d said the cat, after his joyful day\u2019s\nwork was over and he had taken a nice nap. But as soon as he returned\nhome, the mouse asked what name had been given to the kitten this time.\n\nTom was a little puzzled to know what to say, but at last he replied:\n\u201cAh! I remember now. They named it Half-Gone.\u201d\n\n\u201cHalf-Gone! Why, Tom, what a queer name! I never heard of it before in\nmy life, and I am sure it cannot be found in the \u2018Register.\u2019\u201d\n\nThe cat did not answer, and for a time all went on as usual, till\nanother longing fit made him rub his whiskers and think of the jar of\nmeat. \u201cMousey,\u201d said he, one day, \u201cof all good things there are always\nthree; do you know I have had a third invitation to be godfather? And\nthis time the little kitten is quite black, without a single white\nhair. Such a thing has not happened in our family for many years, so\nyou will let me go, won\u2019t you?\u201d\n\n\u201cTop-Off and Half-Gone are such curious names, Tom,\u201d replied the mouse,\n\u201cthat they are enough to make one suspicious.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, nonsense!\u201d said the cat. \u201cWhat can you know about names, staying\nhere at home all day long in your gray coat and soft fur, with nothing\nto do but catch crickets? You can know very little of what men do in\nthe world.\u201d\n\nPoor little mousey was silent, and she patiently remained at home\nduring the absence of the greedy, deceitful cat, who, this time,\nfeasted himself till he had quite cleaned out the jar and left it empty.\n\n\u201cWhen all is gone, then one can rest,\u201d said he to himself, as he\nreturned home at night quite sleek and fat.\n\n\u201cWell, Tom,\u201d said the mouse, as soon as she saw him, \u201cand what is the\nname of this third child?\u201d\n\n\u201cI hope you will be pleased at last,\u201d he replied; \u201cit is All-Gone.\u201d\n\n\u201cAll-Gone!\u201d cried the mouse, \u201cthat is the most suspicious name yet; I\ncan scarcely believe it. What does it mean?\u201d Then she shook her head,\nrolled herself up, and went to sleep.\n\nAfter this Tom was not invited to any more christenings; but as the\nwinter came on, and in the night no provisions could be found, the\nmouse thought of the careful store they had laid up, and said to the\ncat, \u201cCome, Tom, let us fetch the jar of meat from the church; it will\nbe such a nice relish for us.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh, yes,\u201d he replied. \u201cIt will be a fine relish to you, I dare say,\nwhen you stretch out your little tongue to taste it!\u201d So he took\nhimself out of the way, and mousey went to the church by herself. But\nwhat was her vexation at finding the jar still standing in the same\nplace, but quite empty.\n\nThen she returned home, and found Tom looking as if he did not care,\nalthough he was at first rather ashamed to face her.\n\n\u201cI understand now,\u201d said the little mouse, quite gently. \u201cI can see\nwhat has happened. A fine friend you have been to deceive me in this\nmanner! When you told me you were going to stand godfather to the\nthree little kittens, you never visited your relations at all; but,\ninstead of that, you went to the church three times, and ate up all the\nmeat in the jar. I know, now, what you meant by Top-Off, Half-Gone,--\u201d\n\n[Illustration: \u201cI UNDERSTAND NOW,\u201d SAID THE LITTLE MOUSE, QUITE GENTLY.\n\n_Page 136._ ]\n\n\u201cWill you be quiet?\u201d cried the cat, in a rage. \u201cIf you say another\nword, I will eat you.\u201d\n\nBut the poor little mouse had got the name on the tip of her tongue\nwhen Tom interrupted her, and she could not stop herself. Out it\ncame--\u201cAll-Gone!\u201d\n\nTom, who only wanted an excuse to eat up his poor little wife, sprang\nupon her the minute she uttered the word, broke her back with his paw,\nand ate her up!\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\u201cOh, Impty,\u201d cried Dolly, as the story ended, \u201cwhat a wicked cat! I\nhope you would never, never do such a thing! You _wouldn\u2019t_ would you?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d answered the kitten, yawning again, \u201cI never should. In the first\nplace, I\u2019d not dream of marrying a mouse. _I_ always eat \u2019em.\u201d\n\n\n\n\nTHE FIFTH NIGHT\n\n\n\u201cI\u2019m a little late this evening,\u201d purred Impty, as he rubbed up against\nDolly the next night. \u201cBut the large yellow cat across the street is\ngiving a Catnip Tea, and I simply _had_ to stay for one cup.\u201d\n\n\u201cI do hope that you\u2019re going to tell me a pleasanter story this time,\u201d\nsaid the little girl. \u201cI dreamed all night long about that poor mouse.\u201d\n\n\u201cTo-night,\u201d said the black kitten, \u201cI am going to tell you of Mother\nMichel, and the wonderful adventures of her cat, Moumouth. It is\n_very_ exciting, and it turns out beautifully in the end.\u201d\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration:\n\n  Mother Michel\n  And\n  Her Cat\n]\n\n\nMore than a hundred years ago there lived in Paris an old countess,\nMadame de la Grenouilli\u00e8re, a widow who had no children and who loved\nanimals very dearly. But she was quite unfortunate, for none of her\npets, no matter how much she loved or cared for them, ever lived. One\nby one they died, and, at last, the Countess decided that she would\nhave no more. However, one day, as she was riding home in her chariot,\nshe saw a crowd of children tormenting a poor street-cat. They had tied\na sauce-pan to its tail, and goodness knows what would have happened if\nMadame had not put her head out of the window and called to them that\nwhoever should bring the cat to her would be rewarded with a piece of\ngold.\n\nThe crowd of children all ran after the cat, not to torment him now,\nbut to bring him safely to the rich lady and gain the reward; and he\nwas nearly as much in danger from kindness as he had been from cruelty.\nAt last he was caught, and brought safely to the Countess. Once she had\nhim safe in the chariot, she took a good look at him, and then said:\n\u201cPoor pussy! What a very ugly little cat you really are!\u201d But when the\ncat turned to look reproachfully at her, she exclaimed: \u201cWell, he may\nbe ugly, but he certainly has very fine eyes. Here,\u201d she added, turning\nto her companion, \u201conce more I will have a pet. Let us take this poor\npussy with us, and see what a comfortable, happy life at my fireside\nwill do for him.\u201d\n\nSo saying, she placed him in the arms of her friend, Mother Michel, and\ntogether they all three rode home.\n\nBesides her companion, there was another one of her household upon\nwhom the Countess greatly relied, and this was her steward, whom the\nold lady had nicknamed Lustucru. Now Lustucru was as bad as Mother\nMichel was good; he hated all animals as much as the Countess and her\ncompanion loved them; and, when he saw them bringing home another cat,\nhe was very angry, although he pretended to be pleased, and called the\ncat \u201cpretty puss\u201d more than once. And this the cat seemed to know, for\nhe walked away from Master Lustucru whenever he saw him coming.\n\nAt the end of four or five weeks you would never have known Moumouth.\nThey had given him this name because, so an old scholar told the\nCountess, that Moumouth, in Hebrew, meant \u201csaved from the sauce-pans.\u201d\nAnd, in a second month, Moumouth had grown fat, and his fur shone as if\nit were satin.\n\nBut something, which always does turn up, even in the happiest\ncat\u2019s life, came to disturb Moumouth\u2019s peace of mind. Madame de la\nGrenouilli\u00e8re was called to Normandy by the sickness of her sister,\nand, alas, Moumouth could not go with her because the sick lady did not\nlike cats.\n\n\u201cCome here, Mother Michel,\u201d said the Countess; \u201cI am going to trust my\nprecious cat to you. Take care of him well, and if, on my return, he is\nalive and thriving, I will leave you a pension of three hundred dollars\na year.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut, Madame,\u201d replied her companion, \u201cI will take care of Moumouth\nbecause I love him as if he were my own.\u201d\n\n\u201cI know that,\u201d said the old Countess, \u201cbut be very, very careful, and I\nwill reward your zeal.\u201d\n\nWhen the steward heard this promise, he was wild with wrath. \u201cMother\nMichel will have everything,\u201d he said, \u201cand there will be nothing left\nfor me. Well, Moumouth, once the Countess is out of the way, we\u2019ll see\nabout your precious life.\u201d\n\nThe Countess set out on her journey, and Mother Michel, worthy of the\nconfidence that had been shown her, now took the greatest care of\nMoumouth. She petted him, she patted him, and fed him so well that he\ngrew even handsomer. All this time Lustucru was looking on, waiting\nfor a chance to kill Moumouth when his faithful guardian should not\nbe on the watch. One evening, when the cat was asleep before the fire,\nLustucru came to Mother Michel, and begged her to go down and see one\nof the servants who was very ill with rheumatism. As soon as she had\nleft the room, he seized Moumouth, who had not even time to mew, and\nthrew him head over heels into a large bag. Then the wicked man ran\nswiftly across the garden, and out into the street toward the Seine,\nand, the river once reached, he opened the bag and tossed Moumouth into\nthe water. He was in such haste to get home that he did not wait to\nsee the poor cat struggling for his life in the river; nor did he see,\na moment later, Moumouth crawling to a little ledge just at the foot of\none of the arches of the bridge.\n\nInstead, he ran home quickly, for fear Mother Michel would have\nfinished her visit, and come to look for Moumouth. He slipped quietly\ninto bed, and when, in a little while, she came and knocked at his\ndoor, he pretended to have just waked up from a sound sleep.\n\n[Illustration: HE OPENED THE BAG, AND TOSSED MOUMOUTH INTO THE WATER.\n\n_Page 149._]\n\n\u201cMoumouth lost!\u201d he cried, pretending to be very sorry indeed. \u201cOh,\nI\u2019ll get up immediately and help you look for him. Such a fine fellow!\nIt would be a thousand pities if anything happened to him.\u201d And so,\nat the head of all the servants of the house, Lustucru helped Mother\nMichel search from garret to cellar.\n\nBut was Moumouth shivering all this time just above the cold waters\nof the Seine? Oh, no, although there for a number of hours he sat all\nhuddled up, not daring to take his life in his paws and swim to shore.\nBut at daybreak, about five o\u2019clock in the morning, two fishermen came\nto the bridge to try their luck. What good-fortune for Moumouth! As\nsoon as the lines were let down he seized them, and the fishermen,\nimagining from his weight that he must be some splendid fish, hauled\nhim quickly in. But when, instead of a fish, a cat bounded off on the\nbridge, they stood in astonishment for a moment, and then ran after him\nas fast as they could. Moumouth redoubled his speed, and escaped his\npursuers by jumping through the open windows of a bakery. Here he\nfound some bags of flour, and, tired out, he went to sleep at once. But\nhe was so hungry that he soon woke up, and remembering his old habit of\ncatching mice and rats when he was a gutter-cat, he sprang at the first\nmouse that popped its head out of a hole. Round and round the room he\nchased his prey, and the baker\u2019s boy, seeing the hunt, lifted a broom\nto hit him as he passed, but the baker forbade him to strike Moumouth.\n\u201cHe is a good mouser,\u201d he said; \u201che shall stay here and rid the bakery\nof all the rats and mice that are eating us out of house and home.\u201d\n\nWhen Moumouth heard these words he grew so frightened--believing that\nhe would never see Mother Michel again--that he sprang through the\nnearest window, and so escaped into the street. Here he wandered among\nthe back-alleys until nightfall, and then he scurried home as fast\nas he could scamper. He hid in the garret and timidly crept behind\nsome boxes to wait until he should hear Mother Michel moving about\ndownstairs the next morning.\n\nAll this time the household was searching still for Moumouth. The\nwicked Lustucru pretended to hear him crying in the garden; then, after\nthey had vainly searched in every thicket and hedge, he would cry: \u201cNo.\nI\u2019m sure that I heard him mewing in the cellar.\u201d At last, laughing to\nhimself, he said, \u201cDo you know, I think he must be in the garret.\u201d Up\nthe long stairway Mother Michel ran, and who should come out and rub\naffectionately against her skirts but Moumouth!\n\nNever was any one so glad to see a cat before; and Lustucru pretended\nto be as happy as the old lady herself. After this Mother Michel never\nlet Moumouth go out of her sight; she petted him nearly to death and\nmade him sleep in her room. There was no chance for Lustucru to catch\nthe cat alone again.\n\n\u201cBut he shall not escape me,\u201d thought the wicked steward, and keeping\nthis idea always in his mind, he bought a package of rat-poison,\nand, as he hid it safely away, he cried to himself, \u201cThis \u2018Death to\nRats\u2019 shall soon be \u2018Death to Cats!\u2019\u201d The next day, when Mother\nMichel brought up Moumouth\u2019s dinner,--good chicken patties,--Lustucru\nsprinkled poison all over them. Moumouth, hungry as he was, refused to\neat, and Mother Michel, vexed at last with the whims of her charge,\nsaid: \u201cWell! If you don\u2019t eat those patties, Sir, you\u2019ll get nothing\nelse for dinner! Why, I\u2019ve a good mind to eat them myself.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, don\u2019t!\u201d cried Lustucru, jumping up in alarm. \u201cA Christian should\nnot eat food that\u2019s been prepared for an animal.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell,\u201d replied Mother Michel, \u201ceither the cat eats those patties, or\nhe goes hungry.\u201d\n\nAnd hungry poor Moumouth did go, all that day and all the next, living\non scraps which the cook threw to him. But eat the poisoned food\nthe clever cat would not. So the patties stayed locked up in Mother\nMichel\u2019s cupboard, and they were soon forgotten, except by Lustucru. He\nhad failed so often to kill Moumouth himself, that he knew he must try\nsome other means.\n\nAnd Fate, which isn\u2019t always kind to cats, threw just such a chance,\nhe thought, in his way. One morning, as he was returning early from\nmarket, he saw a little ragged boy gazing hungrily at the open kitchen,\nand, no doubt, wishing himself well inside.\n\n\u201cWhat is your name?\u201d asked Lustucru.\n\n\u201cFaribole, Monsieur,\u201d answered the little boy, making a low bow.\n\n\u201cAnd what are you doing here, spying in my mistress\u2019s windows? Are you\nthinking that you would like to be one of her household?\u201d\n\n\u201cI was, indeed, Monsieur,\u201d answered Faribole. \u201cCould you tell me if\nthere is any need of a scullion, for I would willingly do any work, I\nam so hungry and homeless.\u201d\n\n\u201cI am the steward,\u201d said Monsieur Lustucru, proudly, \u201cand I alone have\nthe power to engage you. This I will do if you will promise to obey me\nin all things.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, I will do your bidding in everything,\u201d the little fellow pleaded.\n\n\u201cThen,\u201d said the steward, \u201cfollow me, and I will instruct you in your\nduties.\u201d\n\nWhen they were safely in the house, Lustucru turned to Faribole and\nsaid, \u201cDo you see that cat?\u201d--pointing to the sleeping Moumouth. \u201cYou\nmust try to make that creature your friend, for he is the chief pet of\nour mistress, Madame de la Grenouilli\u00e8re. Make him love you, make him\nyour friend, and all will be well.\u201d\n\nFor a month Faribole played with Moumouth; he coaxed him, he petted\nhim, and, at last, completely won the cat\u2019s heart. Moumouth would have\nfollowed him anywhere.\n\nAt the end of a month\u2019s time, Lustucru called the boy to him.\n\n\u201cYou have done all I told you to,\u201d he said, as if he were very much\npleased.\n\n\u201cAnd now shall I stay here always, Monsieur?\u201d Faribole asked eagerly.\n\n\u201cThat depends upon your being willing to do what I tell you, my lad,\u201d\nanswered the steward. \u201cYou must, to-night, call Moumouth out into the\ngarden. There you and I will put him into a large sack, and together we\nwill beat him to death.\u201d\n\n\u201cNever! Never!\u201d cried Faribole, who loved the cat very much. \u201cI could\nnever do such a dreadful thing as that!\u201d\n\nFor answer Lustucru went to the closet where the boy\u2019s ragged garments,\nthat he had worn upon first entering the house, were hanging.\n\n\u201cTake off the clothes I gave you, and go away instantly in these rags,\nif you are not willing to obey me!\u201d said Lustucru, savagely.\n\nIn vain poor Faribole wept and begged for Moumouth\u2019s life to be\nspared, but the wicked steward refused to listen to another word; and,\nat last, Faribole, growing less and less brave as he thought of his\nhungry days and wet nights on the pavements of Paris, promised that he\nwould help Lustucru do this cruel deed.\n\nThe next day, as the afternoon was drawing to a close, Mother Michel\ncalled Faribole to her and said: \u201cI am going out on an errand, now, and\nI am going to leave Moumouth with you. Be kind to him, and the Countess\nwill reward your kindness when she returns.\u201d\n\nAlas! No sooner had she started than Faribole, the tears running down\nhis face, coaxed Moumouth into the garden. There, at the end of a long\nalley, stood Lustucru waiting, sack in hand. He seized the cat, thrust\nhim in the sack, and, in spite of all his struggles, tied the cord in a\ntight knot. He raised his club, and was about to strike when back came\nMother Michel, out of breath from running so fast.\n\n\u201cOur dear mistress is returning, Lustucru,\u201d she cried, panting. \u201cCome,\nlet us go to meet her with all the rest of the household.\u201d\n\nShe turned, and was soon out of sight.\n\n\u201cHere!\u201d cried Lustucru, out of patience at the delay. \u201cHere, Faribole!\nTake this wretched cat, beat him until he can\u2019t stir, and then throw\nhim into the Seine.\u201d And he, too, ran away to welcome the Countess home\nagain. When he returned, there was Faribole, his face all wet with\ntears, but no Moumouth!\n\n\u201cHave you done as I told you?\u201d asked the wicked man, and the boy nodded\nhis head, too sad to speak.\n\nBut here they heard the voice of Mother Michel calling Faribole.\n\n\u201cFaribole! Faribole! Come hither! Our mistress, the dear Countess,\nwishes you to bring her dear cat to her immediately.\u201d\n\nFaribole went slowly, and with his head hanging.\n\n\u201cOh, Mother Michel!\u201d he cried, \u201cwhile Moumouth and I were at play in\nthe garden, he got frightened by some boys who were passing, and ran\naway to hide in the hedge.\u201d\n\nThe Countess was very much grieved, and Mother Michel tried to console\nher. \u201cOnce he was lost for several days, and he came back unharmed,\u201d\nshe said.\n\nBut though they looked everywhere, and offered rewards, no Moumouth was\nto be found.\n\nAt last Mother Michel decided to go to the fortune-teller around the\ncorner, hoping that there she might hear some news of her lost pet.\n\nThe fortune-teller turned over her pack of cards. \u201cYou are looking for\nsomething that is lost,\u201d she said. \u201cAh, I see by the cards that it is a\ncat.\u201d She turned over a few more, \u201cMy poor lady,\u201d she said sorrowfully,\n\u201cyour cat has been sold to a butcher, and eaten for a rabbit!\u201d\n\nMother Michel was just beginning to wring her hands with grief, when\nshe heard a violent scratching at the door, and then, right through a\npane of glass bounded Moumouth, and jumped straight into her friendly\nlap.\n\n\u201cYou wicked woman!\u201d cried Mother Michel, angrily; \u201cfirst you steal our\ncat, and then you pretend that he is dead. Oh, this is a fine tale to\ntell my mistress, the Countess. She\u2019ll have you put in prison for this!\u201d\n\n\u201cMercy! Mercy!\u201d begged the fortune-teller, falling on her knees. \u201cI did\nnot know the cat was yours. It was brought to me by a little lad named\nFaribole, who knew I wanted one. Forgive me! Do not have me punished\nfor a thing that I did not know was wrong.\u201d\n\nMother Michel was so happy at finding Moumouth that she readily\nforgave the poor woman, and hurried home to show the dear pet to the\nCountess. Madame de la Grenouilli\u00e8re was as delighted to see Moumouth\nas her companion had been to find him. When they had petted him and\nfed him and, at last, left him asleep on a down cushion, they sent for\nFaribole, and asked him why he had done so wicked a thing.\n\n\u201cOh,\u201d cried the poor boy, \u201cI wanted to save him from Monsieur Lustucru,\nand that seemed to be the only way. He wanted me to beat him to death.\u201d\n\nNo one believed him, of course. The steward indignantly denied such\nintentions, and poor Faribole was sent away in disgrace.\n\nBut Lustucru\u2019s wickedness could not always remain hidden. Some days\nafter Moumouth\u2019s return, while looking through her cupboard, Mother\nMichel found three dead rats and the remains of the chicken patties\nthat Moumouth had refused to eat. She carried them to the Countess, and\nthey sent for the steward.\n\n\u201cOh, Lustucru,\u201d said his mistress, \u201cthe rats are troubling me so in\nhere that I wanted to know if you had any rat-poison.\u201d\n\n\u201cCertainly, Madame,\u201d he replied, bowing. \u201cWait one moment, and I will\nbring it to you.\u201d\n\nThe Countess soon found that the two poisons were exactly the same,\nand, besides, there began to be people who said that they had seen\nLustucru throw Moumouth from the bridge into the Seine. The steward,\nwho feared that he would receive his just reward, ran away suddenly one\nnight, and took service shortly after on a ship that was wrecked on\nthe Sandwich Islands. And so all his sins were punished, for it is said\nthat the cannibals ate him for dinner the next day!\n\nAs for Faribole, he was taken again into the Countess\u2019s service,\nwhere, so willingly did he work, and so earnestly did he repent of his\nmisdoing, that Mother Michel adopted him as her own son. When the old\nCountess died, she left in her will, as she had promised, an annuity\nof three hundred dollars to Moumouth and Mother Michel, to be shared\nbetween them, and when one died, the other was to receive the whole\nlegacy. So these three--Mother Michel, Moumouth, and Faribole--lived\ntogether happy and contented all their days. And when Moumouth\ndied,--for all cats must, you know,--he had a grand funeral, and a fine\nmonument with the story of his life written on it in Latin, so that all\nmight know how good and wise a cat he had been.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\u201cThere!\u201d purred Impty. \u201cIsn\u2019t that a fine tale? And, you see, it did\nturn out well, didn\u2019t it? Why, Moumouth became so famous that people\nmade a nursery rhyme out of his story. French children sing it to this\nday, and know it as well as you do \u2018Three Little Kittens.\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, Impty! What lovely stories the King of the Cats does tell you! I\nwish I could go to Cat-Land some night. Couldn\u2019t I?\u201d Dolly coaxed.\n\n\u201cI\u2019ll see,\u201d said Impty, settling himself for his sleep-journey.\n\u201cTo-night I\u2019ll ask my grandfather, and _maybe_ he\u2019ll let you come.\u201d\n\n\n\n\nTHE SIXTH NIGHT\n\n\n\u201cCan I go to Cat-Land, Impty dear?\u201d asked Dolly, sitting up eagerly, as\nsoon as the black kitten jumped on the bed.\n\n\u201cNo, you can\u2019t,\u201d Impty answered. \u201cI\u2019m awfully sorry, but my grandfather\nsays that unless you can change into a cat you can\u2019t go; and people\ncan\u2019t change into cats, nor cats into people, nowadays. I can\u2019t imagine\nwanting to be a human being, but there was a cat once that did. Did you\never hear of her?\u201d\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: VENUS AND THE CAT]\n\n\nThere was, once upon a time, a cat who was not at all satisfied with\nherself. It was not that she wished to be more beautiful, but, because\nshe had fallen in love with a young man, she wanted to be changed into\na girl, that he might love her in return. So she prayed before the\naltar of Venus, and begged that the goddess would make her a beautiful\nmaiden. So long and so earnestly did the cat pray, that Venus at last\ngrew sorry for her, and changed her into one of the loveliest girls\nin the world, so beautiful, indeed, that, as soon as he saw her, the\nyoung man begged her to marry him. Everything was going as happily as\npossible, when Venus, just to see if she had been able to give the cat\nanother nature in changing her shape, put a mouse down before her.\nInstantly the girl sprang from her seat, and chased the mouse round\nand round the room, caught it, and would have eaten it, had not Venus\nturned her at once into a cat again, for she saw it was of no use, and\nthat what was bred in the bone would always stick to the flesh.\n\n[Illustration: VENUS TURNED HER AT ONCE INTO A CAT AGAIN.--_Page 180._]\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\u201cOf course it\u2019s a pity she didn\u2019t have more sense,\u201d added Impty,\nsagely; \u201cbut then, mice are _such_ a temptation! \u00c6sop--my grandfather\nsays he wrote the fable hundreds and hundreds of years ago--knew just\nas much about animals as he did about men. I\u2019m going to tell you his\nstory of \u2018The Cat and the Fox.\u2019\u201d\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration:\n\n  THE CAT\n  AND THE\n  FOX\n]\n\n\nOne day a cat met a fox in the wood. \u201cAh,\u201d she thought, \u201che is clever\nand sensible, and talked of in the world a good deal; I will speak to\nhim.\u201d So she said, quite in a friendly manner: \u201cGood morning, dear Mr.\nFox; how are you? And how do things go with you in these hard times?\u201d\n\nThe fox, full of pride, looked at the cat from head to foot, and\nhardly knew what to say to her for a long time. At last he replied:\n\u201cOh, you poor little whisker-cleaner, you old gray tabby, you hungry\nmouse-hunter, what are you thinking about to come to me, and to stand\nthere and ask me how I am getting on? What do you know, and how many\ntricks have you?\u201d\n\n\u201cI only know one trick,\u201d answered the cat, meekly.\n\n\u201cAnd pray what is that?\u201d he asked.\n\n\u201cWell,\u201d she said, \u201cif the hounds are behind me, I can spring up into a\ntree out of their way and save myself.\u201d\n\n\u201cIs that all?\u201d cried the fox. \u201cWhy, I am master of a hundred tricks,\nand have, over and above all, a sackful of cunning. But I pity you,\nPuss, so come with me, and I will teach you how to baffle both men and\nhounds.\u201d\n\nAt this moment a hunter with four hounds was seen approaching. The\ncat sprang nimbly up a tree and seated herself on the highest branch,\nwhere, by the spreading foliage, she was quite hidden.\n\n\u201cTurn out the sack, Master Fox, turn out the sack!\u201d cried the cat; but\nthe hounds had already seized him, and held him fast.\n\n\u201cAh, Master Fox,\u201d cried the cat, \u201cyour hundred tricks are not of much\nuse to you. Now, if you had only known one like mine, you would not\nhave lost your life so quickly.\u201d\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\u201cAnd now I really must go,\u201d said Impty. \u201cI\u2019m sorry not to tell you\nmore to-night, but our Caterwauling Class meets at eight in the\nbackyard, and I\u2019m leader. They say I\u2019ve a wonderful voice for so young\na cat. Isn\u2019t it lucky that the shutter doesn\u2019t close quite tight? If\nit did I\u2019d never see the fence, nor my friends, either, and, just\nas likely as not, they\u2019d elect Tabby Gray in my place out of spite.\nGood-by!\u201d\n\n\n\n\nTHE SEVENTH NIGHT\n\n\nOutside it was cold and wet; twilight had come early, and Impty trotted\nin shivering and a little cross.\n\n\u201cI almost wish that I wasn\u2019t black,\u201d he growled, as he cuddled up\nbeside Dolly. \u201cMiss Jane\u2019s airing her furs; _she_ says there\u2019s frost in\nthe air, and she picked me up just because she thought I was her old\nmuff. The idea of mixing up a respectable kitten with a monkey muff!\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat did you do, Impty?\u201d asked Dolly, curiously.\n\n\u201cOh, I just stuck out my claws, and miaoued a little. _Any_ cat would,\nand then she said, \u2018There\u2019s that everlasting kitten!\u2019 and shooed me out\nof the door, and I got all wet before I could run in again.\u201d\n\n\u201cPoor kitty!\u201d said the little girl, patting him.\n\n\u201cTo-night is Hallowe\u2019en,\u201d went on Impty, \u201cand people used to believe\nthat witches and cats could go where they pleased on that night. They\ncan\u2019t, really. I wish they could, for then I\u2019d sail off through the\nair with Miss Jane\u2019s furs, and never, never bring them back! Or,\nperhaps, I\u2019d bite her boa in two like \u2018The Cat and the Pudding-Bag\nString.\u2019 But it does seem a little odd that, long, long years ago on\nthis very Eve of All Hallows, Dick Whittington heard the Bow Bells\ncalling to him, \u2018Turn, turn again, Whittington, thrice Lord Mayor of\nLondon!\u2019 Do you know the tale of Dick Whittington and his wonderful\nCat? If not, I\u2019m going to tell it to you to-night.\u201d\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration:\n\n  Dick Whittington\n  And His\n  Wonderful Cat.\n]\n\n\nA long, long time ago there lived in England a little country lad, Dick\nWhittington by name. Now Dick\u2019s father was a poor man, a farm-laborer,\nworking early and late in the fields that his family might be able to\nlive on even the simplest fare. Sometimes there was very little of\nthis, and at last Dick made up his mind to go to London and win a\nfortune for the whole family. There, so he had heard, the streets were\npaved with gold, and any one might become rich for the asking.\n\nSo one night, when every one else was fast asleep in his bed, Dick\ntied his Sunday clothes together in a bundle and ran away on the wide\nhigh-road that led to London-Town. Many a weary mile he walked; and,\nwhen he was very hungry, and it seemed as if his tired feet could not\ntake another step, he cheered himself up by thinking of those streets\nof gold. At last he came to London, and what was his disappointment\nto see only rough cobble-stones, looking just like those in the\nmarket-square near his own home. As he was wandering up and down,\nfootsore and not knowing where to go, he caught sight of a little\ngolden-haired girl. It was the only gold he had seen since he came to\nLondon. She stared from the window above at the little ragged fellow,\nand then, as if she suddenly thought that he might be hungry, she ran\ndown and begged the porter to let Dick in.\n\nNow this little girl was Alice Fitzgerald, the daughter of a rich\nmerchant, his only child, and petted and loved by all who knew her.\nEven the cook, crabbed and cross to every one else, could deny her\nnothing; and because she asked him so prettily to feed the hungry boy,\nhe took Dick in, gave him some supper, and, the next day, made him his\nscullion.\n\nDick worked harder than he had ever worked in all his life before.\nHe never saw Alice except when she went out to walk or ride, for the\nkitchens were a long way from the parlors above. The cook was cross,\nthe work was dull, and, worst of all, the little, chilly garret in\nwhich the boy slept was filled with mice and rats. These worried him\nso, running over him at night, waking him from the happy dream that\nhe was at home again, that he spent his last penny for a cat which a\nragged urchin was carrying through the streets. Soon the mice and the\nrats ceased to trouble him, and life seemed easier after all.\n\nMaster Fitzgerald, the merchant in whose kitchens Dick worked, was\na kind-hearted man, and whenever he sent out a ship laden with his\ngoods, he let his servants add some venture of their own, too, upon\nwhich they could make a profit. Soon after puss had driven away all the\nrats and the mice in her little master\u2019s garret, the merchant called\ntogether his household, and asked each one what they would send with\nhis fine new outward-bound ship. Some brought one thing, some another,\nbut Dick Whittington had only his cat to send. All the servants laughed\nat him, and the cook called him a little fool for putting so silly a\nthing on his master\u2019s vessel. But the merchant said that if Dick wished\nto sell the cat it should go, and pussy was carefully put on board the\nship. After she was gone how Dick did miss her! He had never realized\nhow fond he was of her until she was so far away that he could not call\nher back; and the rats and the mice, as if they knew that there was no\ncat lying in wait for them, ran back into the garret again. At last\nDick grew so discouraged that he packed his clothes in a little bundle\nand stole out of the house softly one All Hallow\u2019s Eve to run back to\nhis home. There the skies were blue, and the people kind, and even if\nthe streets were not paved with gold, all the woods and fields were\nyellow with Autumn.\n\n[Illustration: SOME BROUGHT ONE THING, SOME ANOTHER, BUT DICK\nWHITTINGTON HAD ONLY HIS CAT TO SEND.--_Page 194._]\n\nBut, as he walked quickly along the road that led to the open country,\nthe great Bells of Bow Church began to ring, and the sound came to Dick\nWhittington\u2019s ears like a voice, for it called, \u201cTurn, turn again,\nWhittington, thrice Lord Mayor of London!\u201d The little boy listened,\nand said to himself, \u201cPerhaps there\u2019s good luck yet in store for\nme!\u201d and once more the Bells of Bow pealed out, \u201cTurn, turn again,\nWhittington, thrice Lord Mayor of London.\u201d\n\nSo back to his garret and his work went Dick, resolved to stay a while\nlonger at least, and give the Bow Bells\u2019 prophecy a chance to come\ntrue. The cook was still cross, the work was as hard as ever, and, as\nthe mice and rats gnawed and gnawed, Dick missed his furry friend very\nmuch. But he kept on steadily working, and, by and by, his patience\nwas rewarded. The ship that had sailed so long before with his little\nventure on board, returned, and the captain told a marvellous tale.\n\nA favorable wind had brought the vessel quickly to the coast of\nBarbary, and there the sailors went ashore, carrying with them some\nbales of merchandise to sell to the Sultan, who was so much pleased\nwith the wonderful things that he bought them all, and bade the captain\nand his officers dine at the palace. They went, but, no sooner were\nthey seated at a long table spread with magnificent gold and silver\ndishes, and everything good to eat and drink, than swarms of rats and\nmice ran out of the walls, and devoured all the banquet. The captain,\nvexed to lose his dinner so, sent the cabin-boy for the cat which\nhad been left on board the vessel, and, as soon as she came to the\npalace-door, and saw the mice and rats, she sprang from the boy\u2019s arms\nand chased them all away, just as she had done in Dick\u2019s attic in\nfar-off London. Then the Sultan of Barbary begged to buy this wonderful\ncreature, and offered the captain three hundred thousand pounds for\nher. So pussy was sold, and a great fortune came in her stead to the\nlittle scullion.\n\nAnd Dick Whittington was worthy of his good luck, for he sent for all\nhis family to come to London and live like lords; he even gave presents\nto the servants who had laughed at him and his cat.\n\nHis master, the wealthy merchant, made him a partner in his ships\nand ventures; his fortune yearly increased, and when he had grown to\nbe a young man, he married Alice Fitzgerald, and, last of all, he was\nknighted by the king, became Sir Richard Whittington, and was thrice\nLord Mayor of London, as the Bow Bells had long, long ago chimed in his\nears.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\u201cAnd the best of it all is,\u201d added Impty, with a wide, red yawn, \u201cthat\nSir Richard never forgot what had brought him his good-fortune when\nhe was only poor little Dick Whittington; for, in all his statues and\npictures, there is a little cat curled down in one corner, in memory of\nhis own puss.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow I wish I could see one of them,\u201d said Dolly, earnestly. \u201cI do love\npeople to remember things.\u201d\n\n\u201cMy grandfather, the King of the Cats, has lots in his palace in\nCat-Land. Now, if I could only take you with me--but I can\u2019t; it\u2019s no\nuse wishing, so good night!\u201d\n\n\n\n\nTHE EIGHTH NIGHT\n\n\nAs Impty settled down into his place the next night, his purr sounded\nalmost like a laugh.\n\n\u201cWhy, Kitty, what _are_ you laughing at?\u201d Dolly asked, for the black\nkitten was usually a sober little person.\n\n\u201cI was just thinking of a prank my grandfather played in his young\ndays, long, long before he ever thought of being the King of the Cats.\nIf you like, I\u2019ll tell it to you.\u201d\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration:\n\n  THE FUNERAL\n  OF\n  TOM GRIMALKIN\n]\n\n\nThere were once four crows that sat in an ash-tree near an old\nfarm-house. It wasn\u2019t long before the owl that lived hard by looked out\nof his window under the eaves of the loft, and said to them:--\n\n\u201cGood day to you.\u201d\n\n\u201cGood day,\u201d answered the crows.\n\n\u201cHave you any spare time?\u201d asked the owl. \u201cThen I can put you in the\nway of earning an honest penny.\u201d\n\n\u201cIndeed, we\u2019d like to,\u201d said the four, for the snow was lying old and\nthick over the whole country, and there wasn\u2019t much to be earned.\n\n\u201cMy good comrade, Tom Grimalkin, is dead,\u201d said the owl. \u201cNow, I was\nthinking you might carry him to his grave. When my old friend was\nalive, he often used to say to me: \u2018Jan Owl,\u2019 he would say, \u2018you must\ngive me a decent burial. A respectable life deserves a respectable\nfuneral,\u2019 he used to say, for he was a clever cat. Now, look here! You\nfour have good black coats on, and are honest people--\u201d\n\n\u201cCome along, then,\u201d said the crows, and crept in through the owl-hole\nafter him, one by one.\n\nNow it was pretty dark in the loft, and the thatched roof was low, but\nthey could see Tom Grimalkin where he lay. He was stretched at full\nlength in the hay, without a move in him. The owl took up his post at\nhis friend\u2019s head, and the crows hopped along, all askew, just as\nthey do in windy weather among the young wheat.\n\n[Illustration: \u201cHAVE YOU ANY SPARE TIME?\u201d ASKED THE OWL.--_Page 205._]\n\n\u201cMany\u2019s the mouse we\u2019ve caught in this loft together, Tom,\u201d said the\nowl. \u201cWe\u2019ve always been good friends, and many\u2019s the spree we\u2019ve had\nwith one another. But that\u2019s all past and gone now. Oh, Tom! Tom,\nold fellow! How you\u2019d rejoice, and what a spring you\u2019d make, if you\nwere only alive, and I said to you, \u2018Tom, four stupid black crows are\nstanding round you this minute!\u2019\u201d\n\nThen up sprang the Tom-Cat, and there was a crow-hunt, the like of\nwhich you\u2019ve never seen.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\u201cDidn\u2019t I tell you that owls were more like cats than birds? Why, even\nthat silly song that your uncle sings sometimes, about the owl and the\npussy-cat that went to sea in a pea-green boat, and lived on honey,\nsays so. I don\u2019t think that any self-respecting cat would eat honey,\nbut the rest of it\u2019s true enough. This isn\u2019t getting on with my next\nstory, though, and directly I\u2019m through I\u2019ve got to go to Cat-Land.\nThere\u2019s to be a grand ball at the Palace to-night, and I\u2019m to open it\nwith my cousin, the Princess Miaoulina. You never heard, did you, about\nthe way my grandfather happened to learn that he was King of the Cats?\nWell, then, I\u2019ll tell it to you.\u201d\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration:\n\n  The King\n  Of The Cats\n]\n\n\nA number of years ago, a gentleman, who was travelling through the\neastern part of Germany, lost his way at nightfall, and at last found\nhimself wandering through a large, dense forest. He walked his horse\nslowly for some hours among the trees, and finally, as he was getting\nvery cold and tired, he thought he saw a light about a quarter of a\nmile away. He turned his steps toward it, for he hoped to find some\npeasant-cottage where he could pass the night, but, when he came\nnearer, he saw that the light was streaming through the windows of a\nruined church. Looking over the sill of one of them, he saw a number\nof cats gathered round a small grave, into which four of them, crying\nbitterly, were lowering a little coffin with a crown and Grimalkin the\nFifteenth engraved upon it. Instead of stopping to ask the way, the\ntraveller jumped on his horse, and rode off, fortunately finding the\nright path at last. His friends had been expecting him for several\nhours, and, after they had given him a good dinner, and made him as\ncomfortable as they could, they asked him why he was so late.\n\n\u201cWell,\u201d said the man, \u201cI lost my way, and wandered for some hours\nwithout knowing where I was, and finally I did strike the right path by\nsome great good luck. But, while I was lost, I saw the strangest sight\nI have ever seen in my life!\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat was it?\u201d asked his hosts, eagerly.\n\n\u201cWhy,\u201d the traveller began, \u201cI saw more cats than I ever beheld in all\nmy life before; every one sad and crying, as a coffin, with a crown\nand Grimalkin the Fifteenth marked upon it, was being lowered into the\nground.\u201d\n\nHe had got no farther in his story than that, when the large black cat\nwho had seemed to be asleep in front of the fire, leaped up and cried:\n\u201cWhat! Grimalkin the Fifteenth dead! Then I\u2019m the King of the Cats!\u201d\nand springing up the chimney, he disappeared, and was never seen again!\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\u201cThe reason he was never seen again,\u201d Impty explained, \u201cwas because he\nwent straight to Cat-Land, and people can\u2019t go there, you know. That\nblack cat was my grandfather, and he\u2019d never hoped to be King so soon.\nBut, you see, Grimalkin the Fifteenth lost all his nine lives at once,\nand so my grandfather succeeded to the throne immediately. Some day,\nperhaps, I\u2019ll be King of the Cats, and if I ever am, I\u2019ll make a new\nlaw so that you can come to Cat-Land just as you are without changing\nyour shape. Wouldn\u2019t that be nice? Good night!\u201d\n\n\n\n\nTHE NINTH NIGHT\n\n\nDolly was sitting up in bed when Impty came purring in the next\nevening. She looked very happy, and she called out gayly to the black\nkitten: \u201cOh, Impty! Mother is coming home to-morrow! Miss Jane told me\nso when she was undressing me.\u201d\n\n\u201cI know,\u201d answered Impty, curling up comfortably. \u201cThe cook was talking\nabout it to Eliza when I was eating my supper in the kitchen. Yes,\nthis is our last night together, and because it\u2019s the very last time\nI shall ever talk to you, I\u2019m going to tell you the finest cat-tale in\nthe whole world. It\u2019s \u2018Puss-In-Boots.\u2019\u201d\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: PUSS-IN-BOOTS]\n\n\nOnce upon a time, long, long ago, in a little country village, there\nlived a miller and his three sons. He was poor, but he had been able to\nbring them up respectably, and let them live well enough; though, when\nhe died, his sons found that all he had left them was his mill, his\ndonkey, and his cat.\n\nThe oldest son took the mill, the second the donkey, and for the\nyoungest there was left only the pet cat. He was sad indeed when he\nthought of his inheritance. \u201cWhat shall I live on now?\u201d he asked\nhimself. \u201cMy brothers can go into partnership, and so always earn their\nliving; but when I have eaten my cat, and made myself a muff out of his\nfur, all that will be left for me is beggary.\u201d\n\nWhile he was thus thinking aloud, the cat came and rubbed up against\nhis legs, purring, and then, to his great surprise, spoke.\n\n\u201cMaster,\u201d said Puss, \u201cyou haven\u2019t fared so badly as you seem to think.\nJust have a pair of boots made for me, and get me a sack, and you\u2019ll\nsee fine things!\u201d\n\nThe young man hardly knew whether to believe he was awake or asleep.\nHe had never even heard of a cat talking before, but he remembered how\nclever Puss had always been about catching mice and rats, hiding in the\ngrain and playing dead; and he thought it would do no harm to try what\nluck his cat would bring him.\n\nSo a fine pair of high, yellow leather boots was made for the\ncat, and when Puss had slipped them on, and slung the sack over his\nshoulder, his master began to have faith in his good-fortune at once.\n\n[Illustration: \u201cMASTER,\u201d SAID PUSS, \u201cYOU HAVEN\u2019T FARED SO BADLY AS YOU\nSEEM TO THINK.\u201d--_Page 220._]\n\nThe cat hurried straight to the warren, where hundreds of rabbits were\nnibbling grass and clover leaves, and lying down, he opened his sack\nwide and scattered bran at its mouth. Soon, a silly little rabbit, who\nknew nothing of tricks and traps, came and entered the sack the better\nto eat the bran. Quick as a flash Puss drew the strings and killed him\nwithout mercy.\n\nVery proud of his prey, he went to the palace of the King, where all\nthe court wondered at seeing a booted cat who could talk. He was shown\nat once into the throne room, and there, after he had made a low bow,\nhe laid the rabbit at the King\u2019s feet, saying, \u201cHere, Sire, is a\npresent from my master, the Marquis of Carabas,\u201d for so he had chosen\nto call the miller\u2019s son. The King was very much pleased. \u201cThank the\nMarquis, my good fellow,\u201d he said, \u201cfor sending me such fine game, and\nhere\u2019s a piece of gold for you.\u201d\n\nSoon after, Puss caught a brace of partridges, and these, too, he\ncarried to the palace. The King was as gracious as before; again he\nthanked the Marquis, and gave the cat a handsome present. So things\nwent on; from time to time Puss carried game to the King, who always\nshowed him the greatest favor. At last, one day, when the cat had\nlearned that the King and his daughter, the loveliest princess in the\nwhole world, were to drive through their village that afternoon, he ran\nto his master, and cried: \u201cQuick! Quick! Do as I tell you, and your\nfortune is made forever. Take off your clothes, jump into the river,\nand leave the rest to me.\u201d So saying, he took the young man\u2019s workaday\nclothes and hid them under a large rock. Then, as he heard the rumble\nof chariot wheels on the high road, he began to cry at the top of his\nvoice: \u201cHelp! Help! My master, the Marquis of Carabas, is drowning!\u201d\n\nThe King, hearing these shouts, popped his head out of the coach\nwindow, and seeing the cat who had so many times brought him presents\nof game, he commanded his guards to go to the rescue of the Marquis.\n\n\u201cAlas, your Majesty!\u201d cried Puss, \u201cmy master\u2019s clothes have been\nstolen. While he was bathing, robbers came and carried them away, and\nalthough I cried, \u2018Stop, thief! Stop, thief!\u2019 I could not prevent them\nfrom doing this wicked deed. And now he cannot appear before your\nMajesty.\u201d\n\n\u201cI will send the groom of my wardrobe for one of my finest suits,\u201d said\nthe King; and when the suit was brought, and the Marquis of Carabas\nhad put it on, every one marvelled to see how handsome he was. The King\ninvited him to get into the coach and drive with them, and, as for his\ndaughter, the pretty Princess, she fell head over heels in love with\nhim.\n\nAll this time Puss had been busy, too. He ran quickly ahead of the\ncoach, and, stopping at a fine field, he cried aloud to the peasants\nwho were mowing it: \u201cGood people! If you do not tell the King, when he\nrides by, that this field belongs to the Marquis of Carabas, I will\nchop you into mince-meat!\u201d\n\nThe peasants were very much frightened at this threat, and, when the\nKing passed by, and asked them who owned the field, they cried with one\nvoice, \u201cIt belongs to the Marquis of Carabas.\u201d\n\nPuss, who was keeping ahead of the coach, had already come to the next\nfield, a rich meadow which the laborers were reaping. \u201cGood people,\u201d he\nsaid to them, \u201cwhen the King rides by, if you do not tell him that this\nmeadow belongs to the Marquis of Carabas, I will make mince-meat of\nyou!\u201d\n\nTerrified, the peasants promised, and when the King asked them whose\nmeadow they were reaping, they answered as one man, \u201cSire, it belongs\nto the Marquis of Carabas.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou have some very fine property, Marquis,\u201d said the King, pleased\nto find the young man as wealthy as he was handsome. And the Marquis\nseemed to grow richer, for Puss had stopped at each field, and the\npeasants declared that all the land there-abouts belonged to the\nMarquis of Carabas.\n\nAt last Puss stopped before the drawbridge of a mighty castle owned by\nthe richest and most powerful ogre in the whole country-side. The cat\nbegged that the warder would announce him to the Ogre as one who had\nheard so much of his magnificence that he could not pass by without\nseeing it. The Ogre, who was very vain, was pleased by this compliment,\nand received Puss with the greatest kindness. After a while, the cat\nsaid: \u201cThey tell me that you can change yourself into any shape you\nplease; that, in a moment, you can become a lion or a tiger, or any\ntremendous thing you wish to be.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo I can,\u201d said the Ogre, \u201cand just to show you, I\u2019ll turn into a\nlion.\u201d In the wink of an eye there he was, roaring away, and poor Puss\nwas so frightened that he ran up to the top of the house, slipping at\neach step, for his fine, shiny boots were never made to climb roofs.\n\n\u201cCome down,\u201d cried the Ogre, changing back into his real shape. \u201cI\nwon\u2019t hurt you! Come down!\u201d\n\nVery much scared, Puss clambered down, and, as soon as his voice came\nback to him, he said, \u201cThey say, too,--but this I cannot believe,--that\nyou can take the shape of the tiniest animal, a mouse, for instance.\u201d\n\n\u201cOf course I can,\u201d said the Ogre, proudly. \u201cJust watch me.\u201d He at once\nbecame a little mouse scampering over the floor, and Puss, like a\nflash, sprang on him and ate him up!\n\nBy this time the coach had drawn up to the gate-ways of the castle, and\nPuss, seeing it stop, ran to throw open the doors, crying: \u201cWelcome,\nyour Majesty! Welcome to the castle of the Marquis of Carabas!\u201d\n\n\u201cIs this yours also, my dear Marquis,\u201d cried the King. \u201cWhat splendid\nbattlements, and what a noble gate-way! Come, let us enter, and see if\nthe interior is as fine, too.\u201d\n\nAs he spoke, he walked into the castle, and the Marquis gave his hand\nto the pretty Princess, and led her in.\n\nPuss flung wide the doors of the banqueting-hall and showed a long\ntable covered with a fine repast, for the Ogre had invited friends to\ndinner that day, and this feast was prepared for them.\n\nThe King, the Marquis, and the pretty Princess ate it in their stead;\nand at the close his Majesty said, in great good humor, to the young\nman, \u201cIt all depends upon you, Marquis, whether or not you\u2019re my\nson-in-law.\u201d\n\nThe Marquis, who was in love with the Princess quite as much as she\nwas with him, gladly consented, and that very evening the wedding was\ncelebrated.\n\nSo the poor miller\u2019s son became the heir of a mighty king, and, as for\nPuss, who had brought him all this good-fortune, he became a great\nlord, and caught rats and mice only for his own amusement.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe last Kitty-Cat Tale was finished.\n\n\u201cNow, good-by, little Mistress; go to sleep,\u201d purred Impty, as he\nrubbed up against Dolly\u2019s arm. \u201cI can never, never talk to you again\nthis way, for once, only, does our King permit a cat to talk to a\nmortal. But, sometimes, when you are petting me, please remember the\nstories I used to tell you. Now, I\u2019m going to curl up on your pillow,\njust because it\u2019s the last time. How surprised Miss Jane will be when\nshe sees me to-morrow morning! But it won\u2019t make any difference, for\nwe\u2019ve had our nights, nine of them just like a cat\u2019s lives; and I don\u2019t\nmind if she shuts me out now. Good-by! I\u2019m going to Cat-Land again.\nThey\u2019re having a wedding there to-night.\u201d\n\n\u201cCouldn\u2019t I really ever go to Cat-Land? If you were king, couldn\u2019t\nI?\u201d begged Dolly, wistfully. \u201cI\u2019d truly be good, truly, Impty. And how\nwould I get there?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy,\u201d the black kitten answered, \u201cCat-Land lies East of the Sun and\nWest of the Moon, and the road runs all along the edge of Wonder-World.\nBut it doesn\u2019t take me any time to go because I\u2019m one of the Royal\nFamily. I just close my eyes, and whisk my tail nine times, and I\u2019m\nthere. But I promise, by the whiskers and ears of his Majesty, the King\nof the Cats, that I\u2019ll take you there if ever I get the chance.\u201d He\nheld out his paw solemnly, and Dolly shook it just as gravely. \u201cNow,\nmind! It\u2019s a bargain,\u201d he said, snuggling down beside her.\n\n\u201cAll right! Good-by!\u201d answered the little girl, sleepily, and when the\nmoon looked in soon after, Impty was off in his dreams to Cat-Land, and\nDolly had gone to the Land of Nod.\n\n\n\n\n_The Dorothy Dainty Series_\n\n_By AMY BROOKS_\n\n  LARGE 12mo CLOTH ILLUSTRATED BY THE AUTHOR PRICE $1.00 EACH\n\n\n  _Dorothy Dainty_\n  _Dorothy\u2019s Playmates_\n  _Dorothy Dainty at School_\n  _Dorothy Dainty at the Shore_\n  _Dorothy Dainty in the City_\n  _Dorothy Dainty at Home_\n\n[Illustration:\n\n  DOROTHY DAINTY AT SCHOOL\n\n  BY AMY BROOKS\n]\n\n\n  \u201cLITTLE DOROTHY DAINTY is one of the most generous-hearted of\n  children. Selfishness is not at all a trait of hers, and she knows\n  the value of making sunshine, not alone in her own heart, but for her\n  neighborhood and friends.\u201d--_Boston Courier._\n\n  \u201cDOROTHY DAINTY, a little girl, the only child of wealthy parents, is\n  an exceedingly interesting character, and her earnest and interesting\n  life is full of action and suitable adventure.\u201d--_Pittsburg Christian\n  Advocate._\n\n  \u201cNo finer little lady than DOROTHY DAINTY was ever placed in a book\n  for children.\u201d--_Teachers\u2019 Journal, Pittsburg._\n\n  \u201cMISS BROOKS is a popular writer for the very little folks who can\n  read. She has an immense sympathy for the children, and her stories\n  never fail to be amusing.\u201d--_Rochester_ (_N. Y._) _Herald._\n\n[Illustration:\n\n  DAINTY DOROTHY AT THE SHORE\n\n  BY AMY BROOKS\n]\n\n\nLOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO., BOSTON\n\n\n\n\nLITTLE BETTY BLEW\n\nHer Strange Experiences and Adventures in Indian Land\n\nBY ANNIE M. BARNES\n\n  Illustrated by FRANK T. MERRILL 12mo Cloth with gold and colors 300\n  pages Price $1.25\n\n[Illustration:\n\n  LITTLE BETTY BLEW\n\n  ANNIE M. BARNES\n]\n\n\nOne of the very best books with which to satisfy a young reader\u2019s\nnatural desire for an \u201cIndian story\u201d is this one of little Betty\nBlew and what she saw and experienced when her family removed from\nDorchester, Mass., two hundred years ago, to their home on the Ashley\nRiver above Charleston, South Carolina. Although Betty is but a small\nmaid she is so wise and true that she charms all, and there are a\nnumber of characters who will interest boys as well as girls, and old\nas well as young.\n\nThere are many Indians who figure most importantly in many exciting\nscenes, but the book, though a splendid \u201cIndian story,\u201d is far more\nthan that. It is an unusually entertaining tale of the making of a\nportion of our country, with plenty of information as well as incident\nto commend it, and the account of a delightful family life in the brave\nold times. It is good to notice that this story is to be the first of\na colonial series, which will surely be a favorite with children and\ntheir parents. Mr. Merrill\u2019s illustrations are of unusual excellence,\neven for that gifted artist, and the binding is rich and beautiful.\n\n\n_For sale by all booksellers, or sent prepaid on receipt of price by\nthe publishers_\n\nLothrop, Lee & Shepard Co., Boston\n\n\n\n\n_Only Dollie_\n\n  By NINA RHOADES Illustrated by Bertha Davidson Square 12mo Cloth $1.00\n\nThis is a brightly written story of a girl of twelve, who, when the\nmystery of her birth is solved, like Cinderella, passes from drudgery\nto better circumstances. There is nothing strained or unnatural at any\npoint. All descriptions or portrayals of character are life-like, and\nthe book has an indescribable appealing quality which wins sympathy and\nsecures success.\n\n  \u201cIt is delightful reading at all times.\u201d--_Cedar Rapids_ (_Ia._)\n  _Republican._\n\n  \u201cIt is well written, the story runs smoothly, the idea is good, and\n  it is handled with ability.\u201d--_Chicago Journal._\n\n[Illustration:\n\n  ONLY DOLLIE\n\n  NINA RHOADES\n]\n\n\n_The Little Girl Next Door_\n\n  By NINA RHOADES Large 12mo Cloth Illustrated by Bertha Davidson $1.00\n\nA delightful story of true and genuine friendship between an impulsive\nlittle girl in a fine New York home and a little blind girl in an\napartment next door. The little girl\u2019s determination to cultivate the\nacquaintance, begun out of the window during a rainy day, triumphs over\nthe barriers of caste, and the little blind girl proves to be in every\nway a worthy companion. Later a mystery of birth is cleared up, and the\nlittle blind girl proves to be of gentle birth as well as of gentle\nmanners.\n\n\n_Winifred\u2019s Neighbors_\n\n  By NINA RHOADES Illustrated by Bertha G. Davidson Large 12mo Cloth\n  $1.00\n\nLittle Winifred\u2019s efforts to find some children of whom she reads in\na book lead to the acquaintance of a neighbor of the same name, and\nthis acquaintance proves of the greatest importance to Winifred\u2019s own\nfamily. Through it all she is just such a little girl as other girls\nought to know, and the story will hold the interest of all ages.\n\n[Illustration:\n\n  WINIFRED\u2019S NEIGHBORS\n\n  NINA RHOADES\n]\n\n\n_For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by\nthe publishers_\n\n\nLOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO., BOSTON\n\n\n\n\n_The Children on the Top Floor_\n\n  By NINA RHOADES Large 12mo Cloth Illustrated by Bertha Davidson $1.00\n\nIn this book little Winifred Hamilton, the child heroine of \u201cWinifred\u2019s\nNeighbors,\u201d reappears, living in the second of the four stories of a\nNew York apartment house. On the top floor are two very interesting\nchildren, Betty, a little older than Winifred, who is now ten, and\nJack, a brave little cripple, who is a year younger. In the end comes\na glad reunion, and also other good-fortune for crippled Jack, and\nWinifred\u2019s kind little heart has once more indirectly caused great\nhappiness to others.\n\n[Illustration:\n\n  THE CHILDREN ON THE TOP FLOOR\n\n  NINA RHOADES\n]\n\n\n_How Barbara Kept Her Promise_\n\n  By NINA RHOADES Large 12mo Cloth Illustrated by Bertha Davidson $1.00\n\nTwo orphan sisters, Barbara, aged twelve, and little Hazel, who is\n\u201conly eight,\u201d are sent from their early home in London to their\nmother\u2019s family in New York. Faithful Barbara has promised her father\nthat she will take care of pretty, petted, mischievous Hazel, and how\nshe tries to do this, even in the face of great difficulties, forms the\nstory which has the happy ending which Miss Rhoades wisely gives to all\nher stories.\n\n\n_Little Miss Rosamond_\n\n  By NINA RHOADES Illustrated by Bertha G. Davidson Large 12mo Cloth\n  $1.00\n\nRosamond lives in Richmond, Va., with her big brother, who cannot give\nher all the comfort that she needs in the trying hot weather, and she\ngoes to the seaside cottage of an uncle whose home is in New York. Here\nshe meets Gladys and Joy, so well known in a previous book, \u201cThe Little\nGirl Next Door,\u201d and after some complications are straightened out,\nbringing Rosamond\u2019s honesty and kindness of heart into prominence, all\nare made very happy.\n\n[Illustration:\n\n  LITTLE MISS ROSAMOND\n\n  NINA RHOADES\n]\n\n\n_For sale by all booksellers or sent postpaid on receipt of price by\nthe publishers_\n\n\nLOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO., BOSTON\n\n\n\n\nA Boy of a Thousand Years Ago\n\n  By HARRIET T. COMSTOCK Large 12mo Profusely illustrated with\n  full-page drawings and chapter headings by GEORGE VARIAN $1.00\n\n[Illustration:\n\n  A BOY of a THOUSAND YEARS AGO.\n\n  HARREIT T. COMSTOCK\n]\n\nIt will at once be understood that the \u201cboy\u201d of the story is Alfred the\nGreat in his youth, but it cannot be understood how delightful a story\nthis is until it is seen and read. The splendid pictures of George\nVarian make this book superior among juveniles.\n\n  \u201cNot a boy lives who will not enjoy this book thoroughly. There is a\n  good deal of first-class historical information woven into the story,\n  but the best part of it is the splendid impression of times and\n  manners it gives in old England a thousand years ago.\u201d--_Louisville\n  Courier-Journal._\n\n  \u201cMrs. Comstock writes very appreciatively of Little Alfred, who was\n  afterward the Great, and from mighty meagre materials creates a story\n  that hangs together well. The illustrations for this volume are\n  especially beautiful.\u201d--_Boston Home Journal._\n\n\n  The Story of Joan of Arc      FOR\n                             BOYS AND GIRLS\n\n  By KATE E. CARPENTER Illustrated by AMY BROOKS, also from paintings,\n  and with map Large 12mo Cloth $1.00\n\nThe favorite story of Joan of Arc is here treated in a uniquely\nattractive way. \u201cAunt Kate\u201d tells the story of Joan of Arc to Master\nHarold, aged 11, and to Misses Bessie and Marjorie, aged 10 and 8,\nrespectively, to their intense delight. They look up places on the\nmap, and have a fine time while hearing the thrilling story, told in\nsuch simple language that they can readily understand it all. Parents\nand teachers will also be greatly interested in this book from an\neducational point of view.\n\n[Illustration:\n\n  THE STORY OF\n  JOAN OF ARC\n  FOR BOYS AND GIRLS\n\n  KATE E. CARPENTER\n]\n\n  \u201cThe tale is well told and the children will delight in\n  it.\u201d--_Chicago Post._\n\n  \u201cTold so simply and clearly that young readers cannot fail to be\n  entertained and instructed.\u201d--_Congregationalist, Boston._\n\n\n_For sale by all booksellers or sent postpaid on receipt of price by\nthe publishers_\n\nLOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO., BOSTON\n\n\n\n\n_CHILDREN OF OTHER LANDS SERIES_\n\n\n_When I Was a Boy in Japan_\n\nBy SAKAE SHIOYA Illustrated from photographs 12 mo Cloth $.75\n\n[Illustration:\n\n  WHEN I WAS A BOY IN JAPAN\n\n  SAKAE SHIOYA\n]\n\nThe author was born fifty miles from Tokio, and at the age of twelve\nbegan the study of English at a Methodist school. Later he studied\nNatural Science in the First Imperial College at Tokio, after which he\ntaught English and Mathematics. He came to America in 1901, received\nthe degree of Master of Arts at the University of Chicago, and took a\ntwo years\u2019 post-graduate course at Yale before returning to Japan. No\none could be better qualified to introduce the Japanese to those in\nAmerica, and he has done it in a way that will delight both children\nand parents.\n\n\n_When I Was a Girl in Italy_\n\nBy MARIETTA AMBROSI 12mo Cloth Illustrated $.75\n\nThe author, Marietta Ambrosi, was born in Tyrol, having an\nAmerican-born mother of Italian descent, and a Veronese father. Her\nentire girlhood was spent in Brescia and other cities of Northern\nItaly, and in early womanhood she came with her family to America. Her\nstory gives a most graphic account of the industries, social customs,\ndress, pleasures, and religious observances of the Italian common\npeople.\n\n\n_When I Was a Boy in China_\n\nBy YAN PHOU LEE 12mo Cloth Illustrated from photographs $.75\n\nNew York Independent says: \u201cYan Phou Lee was one of the young men sent\nto this country to be educated here, and finally matriculated at Yale,\nwhere he graduated with honor. \u2018When I was a Boy in China\u2019 embodies his\nrecollections of his native country. It is certainly attractive, with\nmore room for nature to operate and play in freely than is generally\nattributed to Chinese life.\u201d\n\n\n_For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by\nthe publishers_\n\nLOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO., BOSTON\n\n\n\n\nTHE FROLICSOME FOUR\n\nby EDITH L. and ARIADNE GILBERT\n\nIllustrated by JOSEPHINE BRUCE Large 12mo Price $1.00\n\n[Illustration:\n\n  THE FROLICSOME\n  FOUR\n\n  EDITH L. GILBERT\n  AND ARIADNE GILBERT\n]\n\n\nThe story of two brothers and two sisters who are as noble in character\nas they are enthusiastic in play. The authors have drawn wholesome\nchild-life with remarkable effect, and this book will win a conspicuous\nplace for that reason. Everyone will be interested in the fine\nscholarship of Larry, the jolly spirits of Gwen, and the tenderness of\nlittle Polly. And when finally Billy, well-meaning and awkward Billy,\nactually wins a prize in a most unexpected way, the charm of the story\nis complete. Miss Bruce has well caught the spirit of the story in her\nillustrations, and with its merry-looking cover, large, clear print,\ngood paper and broad margins, this is exactly the book to choose for\nyoung boys and girls.\n\n  \u201cThe authors have woven a clever juvenile tale, portraying child-life\n  with that truth that will appeal to the young reader.\u201d--_Providence\n  News._\n\n  \u201cThe story is happily told, and presents a pretty picture of vigorous\n  and wholesome American child-life.\u201d--_Indianapolis Sentinel._\n\n  \u201cThe story is a charming one, and the whole \u2018get up\u2019 of the book\n  suits the contents.\u201d--_Episcopal Recorder, Philadelphia._\n\n  \u201cThe adventures of two brothers and two sisters are happily told.\n  They are funny, pathetic, and always lead the child reader or hearer\n  to think of the real happiness of the dutiful and unselfish traits of\n  character.\u201d--_New York Observer._\n\n  \u201cThe book is natural and wholesome, and its attractive appearance in\n  pictures and type will make it a favorite with children.\u201d--_Portland\n  Express._\n\n\n_For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by\nthe publishers._\n\n\nLothrop, Lee & Shepard Co., Boston\n\n\n\n\n_Cordelia\u2019s Pathway Out_\n\n  By EDNA A. FOSTER Editor of Children\u2019s Page in the \u201cYouth\u2019s\n  Companion\u201d Illustrated by Clara E. Atwood 12mo Cloth $1.00\n\n[Illustration:\n\n  CORDELIA\u2019S PATHWAY OUT\n\n  EDNA A FOSTER\n]\n\nIn \u201cCordelia\u2019s Pathway Out\u201d the writer has carried along the brilliant\nlittle Hortense and many of the characters of that story, but has\nbrought into prominence the quiet Cordelia, whose admiration and love\nfor Hortense act as an incentive to study and cultivate a desire\nfor growth. Early in the story she is transplanted from the village\nin which we first find her, and comes into larger living and the\nbestowal of modest \u201cadvantages.\u201d She is a shy country-bred child, but\nshe observes, imitates and applies the best of her own life and the\nexercise of loving and homely qualities brings her to a desirable plane.\n\n  \u201cIt is a perfect book for children from ten to fifteen years of age,\n  or even older.\u201d--_Universalist Leader, Boston._\n\n  \u201cThe book is a good one for growing girls. Would to Heaven there were\n  more of which one might say the same. It is quite above the level of\n  the ordinary book of its kind.\u201d--_Cincinnati Times Star._\n\n\n_Hortense_\n\n  By EDNA A. FOSTER Illustrated by Mary Ayer 12mo Cloth $1.00\n\nMiss Foster has here a book of unusual excellence, whether viewed\nas a tale of entertainment for a child\u2019s reading or a valuable and\nsuggestive study for the education of those who have to do with\nchildren. The impulsive little Hortense wins the reader\u2019s sympathy at\nonce, and the experiences of the well-meaning young lady relative who\nattempts to train her up according to set rules for well-regulated\nchildren are very interesting.\n\n[Illustration:\n\n  HORTENSE\n\n  EDNA A. FOSTER\n]\n\n  \u201cWe would strongly advise all mothers of growing boys and girls\n  to hasten to procure a copy of this delightful book for the home\n  library--and, above all, to make a point of reading it carefully\n  themselves before turning it over to the juveniles.\u201d--_Designer, New\n  York, N. Y._\n\n  \u201cIt is a truthful and discerning study of a gifted child, and should\n  be read by all who have children under their care. It is probably\n  the best new girl\u2019s book of the year.\u201d--_Springfield_ (_Mass._)\n  _Republican._\n\n\n_For sale at all booksellers or sent postpaid on receipt of price by\nthe publishers_\n\n\nLOTHROP, LEE, & SHEPARD CO., BOSTON\n\n\n\n\nTHE FAMOUS PEPPER BOOKS\n\nBY MARGARET SIDNEY\n\nIN ORDER OF PUBLICATION\n\n\n  =Five Little Peppers and How they Grew.= Cloth, 12mo, illustrated,\n     $1.50, postpaid.\n\nThis was an instantaneous success; it has become a genuine child\nclassic.\n\n  =Five Little Peppers Midway.= Cloth, 12mo, illustrated, $1.50,\n     postpaid.\n\n\u201cA perfect Cheeryble of a book.\u201d--_Boston Herald._\n\n  =Five Little Peppers Grown Up.= Cloth, 12mo, illustrated, $1.50,\n     postpaid.\n\nThis shows the Five Little Peppers as \u201cgrown up,\u201d with all the\nstruggles and successes of young manhood and womanhood.\n\n  =Phronsie Pepper.= Cloth, 12mo, illustrated, $1.50, postpaid.\n\nIt is the story of Phronsie, the youngest and dearest of all the\nPeppers.\n\n  =The Stories Polly Pepper Told.= Cloth, 12mo. Illustrated by Jessie\n     McDermott and Etheldred B. Barry. $1.50, postpaid.\n\nWherever there exists a child or a \u201cgrown-up,\u201d there will be a welcome\nfor these charming and delightful \u201cStories Polly Pepper Told.\u201d\n\n  =The Adventures of Joel Pepper.= Cloth, 12mo. Illustrated by Sears\n     Gallagher. $1.50, postpaid.\n\nAs bright and just as certain to be a child\u2019s favorite as the others in\nthe famous series. Harum-scarum \u201cJoey\u201d is lovable.\n\n  =Five Little Peppers Abroad.= Cloth, 12mo. Illustrated by Fanny Y.\n     Cory. $1.50, postpaid.\n\nThe \u201cPeppers Abroad\u201d adds another most delightful book to this famous\nseries.\n\n  =Five Little Peppers at School.= Cloth, 12mo. Illustrated by Hermann\n     Heyer. Price, $1.50; postpaid.\n\nOf all the fascinating adventures and experiences of the \u201cPeppers,\u201d\nnone will surpass those contained in this volume.\n\n  =Five Little Peppers and Their Friends.= Illustrated by Eugenie M.\n     Wireman. Cloth, 12mo, $1.50; postpaid.\n\nThe friends of the Peppers are legion, and the number will be further\nincreased by this book.\n\n  =Ben Pepper.= Illustrated by Eugenie M. Wireman. Cloth, 12mo, $1.50.\n\nThis story centres about Ben, \u201cthe quiet, steady-as-a-rock boy,\u201d while\nthe rest of the Peppers help to make it as bright and pleasing as its\npredecessors.\n\n\nLOTHROP, LEE AND SHEPARD COMPANY\n\n\n\n\n_SOPHIE MAY\u2019S \u201cLITTLE-FOLKS\u201d BOOKS_\n\n\nLITTLE PRUDY\n\n\u201cI have been wanting to say a word about a book for children, perfect\nof its kind,--I mean \u2018Little Prudy.\u2019 It seems to me the greatest\nbook of the season for children. The authoress has a genius for\nstory-telling. Prudy\u2019s letter to Mr. \u2019Gustus Somebody must be genuine;\nif an invention, it shows a genius akin to that of the great masters.\nIt is a positive kindness to the little ones to remind their parents\nthat there is such a book as \u2018Little Prudy.\u2019\u201d--_Springfield Republican._\n\n\nLITTLE PRUDY\u2019S SISTER SUSIE\n\n\u201cEvery little girl and boy who has made the acquaintance of that funny\n\u2018Little Prudy\u2019 will be eager to read this book, in which she figures\nquite as largely as her bigger sister, though the joys and troubles of\npoor Susie make a very interesting story.\u201d--_Portland Transcript._\n\n\u201cCertainly one of the most cunning, natural, and witty little books we\never read.\u201d--_Hartford Press._\n\n\nLITTLE PRUDY\u2019S CAPTAIN HORACE\n\n\u201cThese are such as none but Sophie May can write, and we know not\nwhere to look for two more choice and beautiful volumes--\u2018Susie\u2019 for\ngirls and \u2018Horace\u2019 for boys. They are not only amusing and wonderfully\nentertaining, but teach most effective lessons of patience, kindness,\nand truthfulness. Our readers will find a good deal in them about\nPrudy, for so many things are always happening to her that the author\nfinds it impossible to keep her out.\u201d\n\n\nLITTLE PRUDY\u2019S STORY BOOK\n\n\u201cThis story book is a great favorite with the little folks, for it\ncontains just such stories as they like to hear their aunt and older\nsister tell; and learn them by heart and tell them over to one another\nas they set out the best infant tea-set, or piece a baby quilt, or\ndress dolls, or roll marbles. A book to put on the book-shelf in the\nplay-room where \u2018Susie\u2019 and \u2018Prudy,\u2019 \u2018Captain Horace,\u2019 \u2018Cousin Grace,\u2019\nand all the rest of the \u2018Little Prudy\u2019 folks are kept.\u201d--_Vermont\nRecord._\n\n\nLITTLE PRUDY\u2019S COUSIN GRACE\n\n\u201cAn exquisite picture of little-girl life at school and at home, and\ngives an entertaining account of a secret society which originated in\nthe fertile brain of Grace, passed some comical resolutions at first,\nbut was finally converted into a Soldiers\u2019 Aid Society. Full of life,\nand fire, and good advice; the latter sugar-coated, of course, to suit\nthe taste of little folks.\u201d--_Press._\n\n\nLITTLE PRUDY\u2019S DOTTY DIMPLE\n\n\u201cDotty Dimple is the plague of Prudy\u2019s life, and yet she loves her\ndearly. Both are rare articles in juvenile literature, as real as Eva\nand Topsy of \u2018Uncle Tom\u2019 fame. Witty and wise, full of sport and study,\nsometimes mixing the two in a confusing way, they run bubbling through\nmany volumes, and make everybody wish they could never grow up or\nchange, they are so bright and cute.\u201d\n\n\nDOTTY DIMPLE AT HER GRANDMOTHER\u2019S\n\n\u201cSophie May\u2019s excellent pen has perhaps never written anything more\npleasing to children, especially little girls, than \u2018Dotty Dimple.\u2019\nIf the little reader follows Dotty through these dozen chapters--from\nher visit to her grandmother to the swing under the trees--he or she\nwill say: \u2018It has been a treat to read about Dotty Dimple, she\u2019s so\ncunning.\u2019\u201d--_Herald of Gospel Liberty._\n\n\nDOTTY DIMPLE OUT WEST\n\n\u201cDotty\u2019s trip was jolly. In the cars, where she saw so many people that\nshe thought there\u2019d be nobody left in any of the houses, she offers to\nhold somebody\u2019s baby, and when it begins to cry she stuffs pop-corn\ninto its mouth, nearly choking it to death. Afterwards, in pulling a\nman\u2019s hair, she is horrified at seeing his wig come off, and gasps\nout, \u2018Oh, dear, dear, dear, I didn\u2019t know your hair was so tender!\u2019\nAltogether, she is the cunningest chick that ever lived.\u201d--_Oxford\nPress._\n\n\nDOTTY DIMPLE AT HOME\n\n\u201cThis little book is as full of spice as any of its predecessors,\nand well sustains the author\u2019s reputation as the very cleverest of\nall writers of this species of children\u2019s books. Were there any\ndoubt on this point, the matter might be easily tested by inquiry in\nhalf the households in the city, where the book is being revelled\nover.\u201d--_Boston Home Journal._\n\n\nDOTTY DIMPLE AT SCHOOL\n\n\u201cMiss Dotty is a peremptory little body, with a great deal of human\nnature in her, who wins our hearts by her comic speeches and funny\nways. She complains of being _bewitched_ by people, and the wind \u2018blows\nher out,\u2019 and she thinks if her comrade dies in the snow-storm she will\nbe \u2018dreadfully \u2019shamed of it,\u2019 and has rather a lively time with all\nher trials in going to school.\u201d--_New York Citizen._\n\n\nDOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY\n\n\u201c\u2018Charming Dotty Dimple,\u2019 as she is so universally styled, has become\ndecidedly a favorite with young and old, who are alike pleased with\nher funny sayings and doings. \u2018Dotty at Play\u2019 will be found very\nattractive, and the children, especially the girls, will be delighted\nwith her adventures.\u201d--_Boston Express._\n\n\nDOTTY DIMPLE\u2019S FLYAWAY\n\n\u201cThis is the final volume of the \u2018Dotty Dimple Series.\u2019 It relates\nhow little Flyaway provisioned herself with cookies and spectacles\nand got lost on a little hill while seeking to mount to heaven,\nand what a precious alarm there was until she was found, and the\nsubsequent joy at her recovery, with lots of quaint speeches and funny\nincidents.\u201d--_North American._\n\n\u201cA Little Red Riding-Hoodish story, sprightly and takingly\ntold.\u201d--_American Farmer._\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\n\n\nTranscriber\u2019s note\n\nMinor punctuation errors have been changed without notice. Italics in\nthe title of works was standardized, hyphenation was standardized where\nappropriate.\n\nThe illustration \u201cVENUS TURNED HER AT ONCE INTO A CAT AGAIN.\u201d was\nincorrectly placed facing page 152 in the original. It has been moved\nto Page 180 to match the List of Illustrations.\n\nSpelling was retained as in the original except for the following\nchanges:\n\n  Page 48:   \u201cCh\u00fargoro, who was very\u201d        \u201cCh\u00fagoro, who was very\u201d\n  Page 243:  \u201cNot a boy iives\u201d               \u201cNot a boy lives\u201d","title":"Kitty-cat tales","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":24436}