"I wish you could think of a story to tell me now," your Aunt Amy said.
"I am just in the mood for hearing one."
"It is the hardest thing in the world to stand up and begin telling a
story without anything to start one going," Mrs. Mouser said
thoughtfully, as she brushed her whiskers with her paw. "After you once
get into it, of course, they come easy enough. How would it do if I
should explain why it is that cats catch mice?"
"Was there ever a time when they didn't catch mice?" your Aunt Amy
asked, surprised for the third time.
[Illustration: Mrs. Pussy Cat Visits her Cousin]
"Oh, yes indeed," Mrs. Mouser said in a matter-of-fact tone. "All cats
used to be good friends with the mice, once upon a time, and it happened
that because an old Mrs. Pussy, who lived in the city, didn't have
anything in the house to eat, the cats took up catching mice. You see it
was in this way: A cat that had always lived in the country, made up her
mind one day to go and see her cousin in the city, so she put on her
bonnet and shawl, wrapped some fried fish in a paper, and started.
"When she got there her cousin saw the fish, and it made her ashamed
because she hadn't anything in the house to offer the visitor, so she
asked, turning up her nose considerably:
"Do you cats in the country eat fish?' and Mrs. Pussy replied:
"Why, yes, of course we do; don't you?"
"Certainly not; it is thought to be a sign of ill-breeding to eat such
vulgar food,' and then remembering that she could not offer her cousin
the least little thing, she said, never stopping to think very much
about it. We eat mice here. They are delicious; you would be surprised
to know what a delicate flavor they have."
That surprised the country cousin, and nothing would do but that she
must go right out hunting for mice. Of course some one had to go with
her, and then it was that the city cat found she hadn't made any such a
very great mistake after all, for mice or rats, take them any way you
please, cooked or raw, are very nice indeed.