THE KING OF THE CATS.

A most important personage in feline history is the King of the

Cats. He may be in your house a common looking fellow enough, with

no distinguishing mark of exalted rank about him, so that it is very

difficult to verify his genuine claims to royalty. Therefore the best

way is to cut off a tiny little bit of his ear. If he is really the

royal personage, he will immediately speak out and declare who he is;

and perhaps, at the same time, tell you some very disagreeable truths

about yourself, not at all pleasant to have discussed by the house cat.

A man once, in a fit of passion, cut off the head of the domestic

pussy, and threw it on the fire. On which the head exclaimed, in a

fierce voice, “Go tell your wife that you have cut off the head of the

King of the Cats; but wait! I shall come back and be avenged for this

insult,” and the eyes of the cat glared at him horribly from the fire.

And so it happened; for that day year, while the master of the house

was playing with a pet kitten, it suddenly flew at his throat and bit

him so severely that he died soon after.

A story is current also, that one night an old woman was sitting up

very late spinning, when a knocking came to the door. “Who is there?”

she asked. No answer; but still the knocking went on. “Who is there?”

she asked a second time. No answer; and the knocking continued. “Who is

there?” she asked the third time, in a very angry passion.

Then there came a small voice—“Ah, Judy, agrah, let me in, for I am

cold and hungry; open the door, Judy, agrah, and let me sit by the

fire, for the night is cold out here. Judy, agrah, let me in, let me

in!”

The heart of Judy was touched, for she thought it was some small child

that had lost its way, and she rose up from her spinning, and went and

opened the door—when in walked a large black cat with a white breast,

and two white kittens after her.

They all made over to the fire and began to warm and dry themselves,

purring all the time very loudly; but Judy said never a word, only went

on spinning.

Then the black cat spoke at last—“Judy, agrah, don’t stay up so late

again, for the fairies wanted to hold a council here to-night, and to

have some supper, but you have prevented them; so they were very angry

and determined to kill you, and only for myself and my two daughters

here you would be dead by this time. So take my advice, don’t interfere

with the fairy hours again, for the night is theirs, and they hate

to look on the face of a mortal when they are out for pleasure or

business. So I ran on to tell you, and now give me a drink of milk, for

I must be off.”

And after the milk was finished the cat stood up, and called her

daughters to come away.

“Good-night, Judy, agrah,” she said. “You have been very civil to me,

and I’ll not forget it to you. Good-night, good-night.”

With that the black cat and the two kittens whisked up the chimney; but

Judy looking down saw something glittering on the hearth, and taking it

up she found it was a piece of silver, more than she ever could make in

a month by her spinning, and she was glad in her heart, and never again

sat up so late to interfere with the fairy hours, but the black cat and

her daughters came no more again to the house.

Ancient legends, Mystic Charms & Superstitions of Ireland With sketches of the Irish past · 第 109 / 274 题