Once there was a cat and once there was a parrot. They agreed to invite
each other to dinner, turn and turn about. The cat should ask the parrot
to-day, and the parrot should ask the cat to-morrow.
Well, it was the cat’s turn first. The cat went to market and bought
nothing but a pennyworth of rice. The parrot could make no dinner on
this meager fare. And what is more, the cat was so ill-mannered that he
actually made the parrot cook the food himself. Of course the parrot was
too well-bred to complain.
Next day came the parrot’s turn. He went to market and bought a leg of
meat and a whole fish, head and tail and all, and about thirty pounds
of flour, and a tub of butter, and great bunches of luscious grapes.
And before his guest came he cooked the food. He made heaps and heaps
of brown, crisp spice cakes, thick with currants, oh, enough to fill a
washerwoman’s basket.
Well, the cat came, and the parrot set the whole meal before him, keeping
only two cakes for himself. The cat ate the meat till he licked the
plate, and he picked the fish till the bones were clean, and he sucked
the grapes till the skins were dry, and then he began on the cakes; and
he ate the whole basketful. Then he looked up at the parrot and said,
“Have you any more?”
“Take my two cakes,” said the parrot. And the cat took them. Then he
looked up at the parrot and said, “Have you any more?”
This was too much for the parrot. Bristling his feathers, he said
sharply, “There’s nothing left but me.” And the cat looked him over,
licked his chops, and—gullup, gulloo—down went the parrot, bones, beak,
and feathers.
Now an old woman had seen it all, and she was so shocked she picked up a
stone, and cried, “You unnatural cat, how could you eat your friend the
parrot? Scat! away with you, before I hit you with this stone.”
“Old woman,” said the cat, “I’ve eaten a basketful of cakes, I’ve eaten
my friend the parrot, and shall I blush to eat an old hag like you? No,
surely not.” And—gullup, gulloo—down went the old woman with the stone in
her hand.
Then the cat walked along the road till he met a man beating a donkey to
make him go. “Cat,” cried the man, “get out of the way, or my donkey may
kick you.”
“Man,” said the cat, “I’ve eaten a basketful of cakes, I’ve eaten my
friend the parrot, I’ve eaten an old woman, and shall I blush to eat a
miserable donkey driver? No, surely not.” And—gullup, gulloo—down went
the man and his donkey.
After this the cat walked on again till he met a wedding procession. At
the head came the king with his newly made bride, and behind him marched
a company of soldiers, and behind them tramped ever and ever so many
elephants, two and two, and two and two, and two and two, and a great
many more.
“Cat,” said the happy king, kindly, “turn out of the road a little, or my
elephants may trample you to death.”
“King,” said the cat, “you don’t know me. I’ve eaten a basketful of
cakes, I’ve eaten my friend the parrot, I’ve eaten a miserable man and
his donkey, and shall I blush to eat a beggarly king? No, surely not.”
And—gullup, gulloo—down went the king, down went the queen, down went the
soldiers, bayonets and all, down went the elephants, two and two and two
and two.
After this the cat walked on more slowly, for he was somewhat heavy. On
the way two landcrabs went scuttling across the road. “Run away, run
away, Pussycat,” they squeaked, “or we might nip you.”
“Ha, ha, ha!” laughed the cat, shaking his fat sides. “Ho, ho, ho!” he
roared, showing his teeth; “you don’t know me. I’ve eaten a basketful
of cakes, I’ve eaten my friend the parrot, I’ve eaten a miserable man
and his donkey, I’ve eaten a king and his bride, I’ve eaten a company of
soldiers, I’ve eaten a herd of elephants, two and two, and shall I blush
to eat two silly little landcrabs? Nay, not so.” And he pounced upon the
landcrabs, gullup, gulloo, gulloo, gullup, in two swallows they were
inside the cat.
But—when their eyes were used to the darkness, the landcrabs made out
the king sitting with his head in his hands, very unhappy. Across his
knee lay the newly made bride in a dead faint. Near them the company
of soldiers were trying to form fours. Behind these the elephants were
trumpeting, the donkey was braying, the parrot was whetting his beak
on his own claws, and the old woman was scolding the cat roundly. In a
corner they made out a great pile of cakes.
The landcrabs said, “His sides are soft: let’s get out.” Nip, nip, they
went, nip, nip, nip. And out they scuttled. Then out walked the king
with his bride on his arm, out marched the soldiers, out tramped the
elephants, two and two, out went the man and his donkey without any
beating, out hobbled the old woman, and out flew the parrot.
And the cat had to spend a night and a day sewing up his sides.
—EASTERN FOLK TALE