"OH, who is so merry, so merry, heigh ho!
As the light-hearted fairy, heigh ho, heigh ho!"
As soon as the little fairy I mentioned in the last story finished his
song Puss, Junior's, Good Gray Horse stood up on his hind legs, for he
wasn't used to these little people of the forest, you see.
"Whoa, my good steed," cried Puss. "Don't you see it's only a little
fairy?"
"Only a little fairy!" cried the forest fay. "I would have you
understand, Sir Cat, that I have at my command a million subjects. I
have but to sound a call upon my silver horn and they will surround
you."
"Bah!" cried Puss, scornfully. "I have no fear of such tiny things."
But, oh, dear me! no sooner had he said this than the fairy blew a
shrill blast upon his silver horn, and from all directions came
thousands of little fairies on moth millers and fireflies. And, oh, dear
me! again, before Puss knew what was going to happen they stretched tiny
ropes about his Good Gray Horse and bound his legs fast, and after that
they tied Puss to the saddle.
"Ha, ha!" laughed the little fairy. "Now, my good Sir Cat, will you
believe that fairies have power?"
"Gid-ap!" cried Puss, but his good gray steed could move neither head
nor foot. "Gid-ap!" he cried again; but his Good Gray Horse could move
neither ears nor tail.
"Gracious me!" exclaimed Puss. "I'm in a pretty mess!" And then the
fairies began to sing:
"Pride must ever have a fall.
Ne'er despise the weak and small.
Only he who's brave and good
Shall pass safely through this wood."
"I don't see how that applies to me," cried Puss, stoutly. "I may have
been a trifle rude, but I maintain I'm brave and good."
Well, just then, all of a sudden, a big kind-hearted owl flew down from
his nest in a tree and cut all the fairy ropes with a big pair of
scissors. And then he gave a great hoot, which so frightened the fairies
that they flew away, helter skelter, into the depths of the forest.
"You have been very kind to me," said Puss. "How shall I repay you?"
"Forget it," said the owl, taking off his gold-rimmed spectacles and
wiping his left eye with a yellow silk handkerchief. "If you would get
safely out of this forest,
"Follow the path, the moon is still bright.
Take the first turn--the one to the right.
The Willow Tree Inn you'll find in due course,
Where you'll find shelter for you and your horse."
"Thank you," said Puss. "If your directions are as good as your rhyme I
shall have no trouble in finding the place."