she resolved to be to do nothing that could possibly offend the dog.
And so, for the next three or four days, by dint of giving up to him
all her best bones, and always jumping down from her cushion whenever
he wanted to lie upon it, and looking the picture of humility whenever
he was in the room, she contrived to get on in tolerable peace with
him. But unluckily, one morning, puss, finding herself all alone in
the drawing-room, and everything quiet, and feeling very sleepy (for
she had had very little repose the night before, from distress of
mind), thought she might as well take the opportunity of getting a
nap; so she jumped upon a high footstool, beside the fire, and was
soon fast asleep. How long she had napped she could not tell, when she
was awakened by a furious barking; and opening her eyes, she saw Viper
standing at a little distance, looking as if he was going into fits
with passion.
Poor puss! she recollected, all in a moment, that she had got upon
Viper's own footstool! She jumped down before you could count one.
'You audacious little upstart!' cried the dog, as soon as his rage
allowed him to speak, 'do you think I shall submit to such impertinent
liberties?'
'Indeed, indeed,' stammered the poor cat, 'I humbly beg your
lordship's pardon, but I really quite forgot----'
'Forgot, indeed!' roared Viper, 'I'll teach you to forget, Mrs. Puss!'
and making a tremendous dash at her, he would doubtless have
demolished her in no time, had not, fortunately, the window been open
a little, just enough for the cat to get through.
She was on the window-seat in an instant, and had scrambled out of the
window before Viper, who was very fat, could come up to her. It was
with some difficulty that he got up upon the window-seat, and quite in
vain that he tried to squeeze his fat body through the opening of the
window. How he growled with disappointed passion, as he stood on his
hind-legs on the window-seat, stretching his head, as far as his
little short neck would allow, through the opening, to see what had
become of puss.
What _had_ become of her? She had dropt down into the street, and had
crept into the shade of one of the heavy broad stone-carvings beneath
the window, knowing that there she was safe enough for the present;
and she lay down, panting with the fright, to recover her breath a
little, and consider what was to be done. To go back to the palace was
clearly out of the question. But then where could she go? Poor cat!
what a perplexity she was in! She lay snug for the best part of an
hour before she durst venture out of her hiding-place. At last,
cautiously peeping about her, she crept out, and ran, with all her
speed, down the street, not knowing in the least whither she was
flying. She had not gone far before she attracted the attention of a
group of children, who were playing in the street. Shouting, whooping,
and laughing, they pursued her. She redoubled her speed, and darting
suddenly down a little side alley, was soon out of sight of her
pursuers. She heard their screams and yellings, growing fainter and
fainter, in the distance; and feeling that the immediate danger had
past, she relaxed her pace, and looked to see where she was. She found
that she was in a little, dirty, miserable court, open at the end,
through which she saw trees and green fields. But she thought it would
be very hazardous to loiter; so she ran on, and in a short time found
that she had left the town behind her, and was once more in the open
country. Dreading lest she might encounter any more dogs, she
carefully avoided approaching any human habitation; so she glided
along among the grass, till she came to a small clump of trees, which
put her in mind of the forest near her old mistress's hut. Seeing no
better prospect of shelter for the night, she climbed up into the
largest of the trees, knowing that, at least, she should be out of the
way of _dogs_ there; and finding a snug place among the branches in
the middle of the tree (for, though it was autumn, yet the leaves were
still pretty thick), she made up her mind to pass the night there.
But it wanted some hours yet of night: and what was she to do for
supper? It was not at all a pleasant consideration. Moreover, her
squabble with Viper had taken place _before_ dinner; and now there was
no prospect of any supper but such as she could earn by her own
exertions. Perhaps she might, with good luck, catch a robin before
night; but that could very ill supply the place of the nice bits of
fowl, and saucers of rich milk, that Ermengarde gave her every night.
However, she was too glad to be safe and snug up in the tree, to be
very particular. So she made up her mind to lie there till it grew
towards roosting-time, and then see what she could find for supper.
She peeped out as well as she could between the branches to see what
the surrounding country was like; it all looked quite wild and
lonely, and she saw but few dwellings anywhere near the clump of
trees.
Her place of refuge seemed at a considerable distance from the
high-road; so she hoped she was tolerably safe from both men and dogs.
At length the cold dews of the evening began to fall, and the little
birds began to return home to their trees: so the cat ventured to
descend and look about for her supper. I am sorry to say, that being
by this time exceedingly hungry, she obeyed the dictates of nature,
and in a very few minutes had attacked and devoured a dear little
robin, that might have sung merrily all through the autumn, if puss
had only been _contented_, and staid quietly at home in the cottage.
Be that as it may, poor little Redbreast fell a victim to her hunger,
and yet she considered him but a very poor supper, after all. He was
the best she could get that night, however; for the other birds proved
too nimble for her: so, weary and hungry, puss climbed up her tree
again, and was soon asleep--for she was very tired indeed, with all
she had done that day. The next morning, when she awoke, her limbs
felt quite stiff; for the night had been frosty, and she was very
cold. But there was no fire in the tree; so she had nothing for it but
to crawl down, and try to warm herself with catching a bird for her
breakfast. She was so benumbed, that she could hardly get down, and
her bones ached as if she had got the rheumatism all over her:
however, jumping about after the birds revived her by degrees, and she
began to feel in a little better spirits; till, spying, at a distance
on the high-road, a carriage with a large dog running after it, all
her panic returned, and she climbed up into her tree again with all
expedition. But the carriage rolled along, and took no notice of puss;
and the rumbling of the wheels soon died away, and all was quiet
again.
What a melancholy long day it seemed! and, moreover, she could hardly
catch a bird--they all seemed to fly away from the trees, instead of
settling upon them; and puss had really hard work to get any dinner at
all that day. And then the night was _so_ cold again. Many a time when
she awoke, and felt the frosty wind whistling round the trees,
stripping away more and more of the leaves at every gust, did the poor
cat, in her cold and hunger, think of the nice bright fire on her old
mistress's hearth, and her brown bread and milk, till she was ready to
cry her eyes out with vexation at her own folly--and what was still
worse, her own ingratitude--in being willing to leave the good old
woman, her best friend, who had taken care of her all her life long,
merely because she fancied it would be very grand to live in a palace.
People sometimes find out their mistakes when it is too late.
But, to make a long story short--three or four more days and
nights--melancholy days, and cold wretched nights--passed over in much
the same miserable way, or, rather, things grew worse: for the
weather became stormy, the trees were almost stripped of their
leaves, so that they scarcely afforded her any shelter from the wind,
and the cat was so dreadfully cold!
It became still more difficult, too, to procure any food; and the
birds became very shy of venturing within her reach: the poor cat did
not know what to do--she was really half dead with cold and hunger!
'Oh!' groaned she, stretching herself out upon some of the fallen
leaves at the foot of the tree--'Oh, that I had never listened to that
deceitful, mischievous magpie!'
And, indeed, she had good cause to say so.
It was drawing towards sunset; there had been several storms during
the day, but, as the evening came on, the weather had a little cleared
up; and a gleam of sunshine just then shot out from among the black
clouds, and fell upon something glittering beside her.
She lifted her eyes languidly, for she had no strength to be alert
now, and saw the bright and beautiful Fairy, with her car drawn by
the silver pheasants.
'Have you learnt yet to be contented with plain fare at home?' said
the Fairy to the cat, with an expression in her countenance that the
cat could hardly make out: she did not know whether her strange
visitor meant to be kind or not to her.
'Oh! if you would but take me back to my old mistress again!' cried
the poor cat, clasping her paws in an agony of entreaty, 'I would
never be discontented any more!'
The Fairy smiled, and touching her lightly with her silver wand, bade
her close her eyes--another moment, and she bade her open them; and,
most wonderful of all the wonderful things that had happened to her,
the trees, the country, the distant city, all were gone! There was a
charming log-fire on the hearth, sparkling and crackling; whirr,
whirr, whirr, went the old woman's wheel, and there she sate in her
chair just as usual; and the wind was blowing, and the rain was
pelting against the shutters, exactly as it did the very night puss
had left the cottage in such a mysterious way. In fact, everything
looked _precisely_ the same. The cat rubbed her eyes, but nothing
could she see of the Fairy, or the car, or the silver pheasants.
However, had she got back, and so quick too? And the old woman did not
seem at all surprised to see her--it was very odd. She could not make
it out anyhow: at last it struck her that, perhaps, she might have
been dreaming, and never have been out of the hut at all. Yet those
terrible growls of Viper's, and those dismal days and nights in the
trees--no, they _must_ have been real! Still, it was very strange that
the old woman should take no more notice of her, if she had been
lost--how could it be? It was really unaccountable.
But her perplexities were interrupted by the cheerful voice of her old
mistress calling out, 'Come, my pussy! it is supper-time!' and as she
spoke, she rose up from her spinning-wheel, and taking down some eggs
and a cake of brown bread, with a large jug, from her corner cupboard,
she broke the eggs into the frying-pan, and they were soon hissing and
sputtering over the fire. Then she placed a large saucer on the table,
and broke some bread into it; and returning to the fire, she took off
the frying-pan, and emptied the eggs into a dish on the table, and sat
down to her supper. But before she tasted a bit herself, she poured
some nice goat's milk over the bread in a saucer, and set it down on
the hearth before the cat.
Now I will venture to say, puss never ate a meal in her life half so
thankfully before. She made a resolution, between every mouthful,
never to say one word to that silly chattering magpie again; and never
to indulge in any more foolish wishes, but to stay at home, do her
duty in catching her mistress's mice, and be contented, and thankful
for the brown bread and milk, without troubling her head about
countesses and buttered crumpets any more.
And I am happy to be able to tell you that she faithfully kept her
resolution. She never spoke to the magpie afterwards; but contracted a
steady friendship with the owl, which lasted to the day of his death;
and when he did die, which was not till he had attained a venerable
old age, he bequeathed to her his share of the mice that infested the
neighborhood of the cottage.
As to the magpie, finding that her company was no longer desired in
that part of the world, she very wisely took her flight far away to
the other side of the wood.
Whether she still lives there, and goes on chattering about the grand
things she used to see in the palace of the Countess Von
Rustenfustenmustencrustenberg, is more than I can inform you. If you
want to ascertain that fact, you must go to the northern part of the
Duchy of Kittencorkenstringen, and then you must walk seventeen
leagues and three quarters still further north, and then you must turn
off to your right, just where you see the old fir-stump with the
rook's nest in it; and then you must walk eleven leagues and a
quarter more, and then turn to your left, and after you have kept
straight on for about fifteen leagues more, you will see the wood
where the magpie lives;--and then, if you walk quite through it to the
other side, you will see the old woman's cottage; and if it should
happen to be a fine day, I dare say you will see her sitting in the
sunshine spinning, and, curled round beside her, the contented cat.
[Illustration]
THE WISHING-DAY.
Long, long ago, in the glorious reign of King Huggermuggerus, there
lived in an ancient castle a highly respectable cat and his wife. They
led a very comfortable life of it, for the castle belonged to an old
baron who kept very little company, and was very fond of his cats: so
it was very rarely that any strange dogs were admitted within the
walls; and the cats breakfasted every morning with their master. They
had only two children; all the rest of their numerous family having
been barbarously drowned by the housekeeper, who was a very cross old
woman, and did not like cats, nor anything else very much. But the
cats did not trouble their heads much about her; in fact, they had
very little to do with her, for they were allowed full liberty to
wander about the castle at their pleasure.
It was a delightful old castle, full of such queer odd nooks and
corners, that one might have been lost in it for days together; and
there were long corridors, in which the kittens used to run races on
moonlight nights, when the old housekeeper was safe in bed, and make
such a racket, it would have done your heart good to hear them. But
they chiefly took possession of a charming old room, hung with
tapestry representing all sorts of strange things, and very convenient
for the two kittens to play at hide-and-seek behind it; and as the
room faced the south, they got all the sun to warm them. The elder of
them was called _Wishie_, the younger _Contenta_. Their papa and mamma
had given them these names, because Wishie was always saying she
wished she had this, and she wished she had that, and never seemed
satisfied unless she had everything she mewed for: while Contenta, on
the contrary, was of the sweetest disposition in the world, and always
pleased with what was given to her. One would have thought that
neither of them could have had anything to wish for; for they had
plenty to eat and drink--nice long galleries to run about in--no dogs
or children to tease them--and a garden with many tall trees, and
abundance of sparrows. What could they want besides?
One bright summer-day, the sun was shining splendidly--the flowers
were in full bloom--the air was laden with sweet scents from the
honey-suckles and moss-roses, and the larks were singing away high up
in the sky, as merry as if they had all gone out for a holiday, when
Wishie took it into her head to have a stroll in the garden. Now, it
so happened that Contenta, who had been keeping the baron company at
his breakfast, had carried off into the garden a very nice
chicken-bone which her master had given her. So she sat down under a
rose-tree to eat it. But she did not remain there long before Wishie
spied her out. 'Well, to be sure!' exclaimed she to her herself, as
she drew near the rose-bush, 'What a bone Contenta has got there! She
has been breakfasting with our master, that's very clear. I'm sure
nobody ever gives _me_ such great bones! I wish Contenta would let me
have a bit of it--;' and so saying, she threw herself down beside her
sister, pretending to look very tired and hungry, and whined out, 'Do,
Contenta, give me a bit! I am so hungry!'
'Willingly,' replied Contenta, who was very good-natured; 'but have
you had no breakfast, Wishie, this morning?'
'O, nothing to speak of,' said Wishie, falling tooth and claw upon the
bone; and in a very few minutes she had devoured by far the largest
share of it. Now, I don't mean to say that Contenta was such an
unnaturally amiable cat, as to be exactly well pleased to see her
breakfast disappear in such a wholesale fashion; but she consoled
herself with reflecting, that dinner would come some time or other;
and being, as I said, very good-natured, she made Wishie very welcome
to the bone, and began frisking after the leaves upon the
gravel-walk. I am sorry to say, that when Wishie had devoured the
chicken-bone, she did not seem half so much ashamed of her selfish
conduct as she ought to have been; but, seeing a fine plump little
sparrow perch himself upon the branch of an old tree near, she sprung
up the stem after him. Now it was really very greedy of her, but
however she _did_ it, and some wonderful things happened in
consequence. The tree was very old, and the trunk was quite hollow;
but that Wishie did not know; so when she had clambered up to the top
she suddenly found herself on the brink of a frightful abyss--there
seemed a hollow deep down to the very roots of the tree. She peeped
cautiously down to see what she could see, but somehow or other,
whether she overbalanced herself, or whether a bit of the bark gave
way, or how it was I can't tell, but Wishie tipped over, and tumbled
headlong into the hollow of the tree. But as she luckily fell into a
bed of thick moss she was not the worse; and giving herself a shake,
she opened her eyes and looked about her.
Was there ever anything so wonderful? She was in an enormous hall,
supported upon at least two hundred columns of gold, while, between
them, curtains of the richest white silk, fringed with pearls and
diamonds, hung from the roof to the floor, which was spread with a
carpet of azure, covered with flowers in their natural colors,
intermingled with stars of gold and silver. The roof of this wondrous
hall was of fretted gold, and from the centre hung a lamp formed of an
enormous precious stone, which shed forth rays of many-colored hues.
At the upper end of the apartment was a chair of state, over which
fell a drapery of azure velvet, embroidered with pearls in beautiful
devices. But how shall I describe to you the lady who sat in this
gorgeous chair? She was bright and beautiful as a summer's day; her
hair, shining like gold, fell in curls to the very ground; she was
dressed in a robe of azure-blue, a crown of white roses, sprinkled
with diamond dew-drops, rested upon her brow, and in her hand she
carried a long slender bright wand of gold. You may imagine that
Wishie was very much astounded at the sight of all these strange
things; however, the Fairy, in a very soft voice, called to her to
approach nearer. 'Wishie,' said she, 'do you know where you are?'
'Not the least bit in the world, please your ladyship,' replied
Wishie; 'how should I? Who would ever have thought there was such a
grand place as this under ground?'
'Never mind its being under ground, Wishie,' said the Fairy, 'that's
no concern of your's; attend to what I am going to say to you. You are
very fond of _wishing_, are you not?' Wishie made no answer, for she
felt rather ashamed; and the Fairy continued: 'I advise you, Wishie,
as your friend, to give up such a bad trick, you will find it very
inconvenient some day or other.'
By this time Wishie's fright was a little gone off; and being always
rather pertly inclined, she plucked up courage, and remarked that she
did not see how it was to hurt her. Now it was very rude in a little
good-for-nothing kitten like Wishie, to speak so saucily; and the
Fairy looked very angry, as well she might; however, she only said,
'You will know better, perhaps, at some other time. Hear me, Wishie, I
am going to bestow a wonderful gift upon you; for this day you shall
have everything you wish for. But I warn you, that should any of your
wishes bring you into trouble, you must abide by the consequences, you
cannot undo it.' As the Fairy said this, she lightly touched Wishie
with the end of her wand, and the kitten instantly found herself again
in the castle, in the old room hung with tapestry, and her mother
purring by the fire-side. Wishie was too full of her adventure to keep
it another minute to herself; so, running up to her mother, she
related it at great length.
'Nonsense, child,' said the old cat, 'you don't think I shall believe
such absurd stuff, do you?' I'll box your ears for telling stories--'
and she gave Wishie such a hearty cuff with her paw, that she sent her
spinning into the great gallery, to amuse herself as she best could.
How dreadfully cross my old mother is to-day; thought Wishie to
herself, as she scampered up the corridor; however, I must try and
find something to do here--it's very dull being all by oneself. Just
then, as she drew near one of the windows, she heard a great buzzing
and fluttering, and looking up, saw a large wasp dancing about in the
sunshine. Wishie thought it would be very good fun to try and catch
him, so she made several springs at the window, but all in vain; the
wasp was as young and active as she was, and eluded her very nimbly.
Quite out of breath, she paused for a minute to look at him.
'O how I wish I could catch you, master wasp!' she exclaimed, giving a
final jump with all her might.
Strange to say, this time the wasp seemed almost to drop into her
claws; she clutched him with such a tight grasp, that he had no
possibility of escape; but in an instant, with a direful scream,
Wishie unclosed her paw; and the wasp dropped on the floor. Wishie's
paw was terribly stung. Her first trial of the Fairy's gift had not
proved pleasant by any means. So, limping and mewing, Wishie went back
to her mother, who scolded her well for her folly in jumping at the
wasp, when she ought to have been minding her duty and catching the
mice; and after licking the wounded paw, the old cat sent her to bed
for the rest of the day. But Wishie had no intention whatever of
spending her day in such a manner as that. Lie in bed, indeed! not
she. So she licked her paw till the pain was somewhat abated, and then
she crawled slily upstairs into the great gallery. There was nobody
there, except the knights and ladies in the picture-frames, the
baron's ancestors, and a grim looking set they were; and as none of
them showed any desire to come down from the walls to play with her,
Wishie very soon got tired of looking at them. So, seeing a door open
at the end of the corridor, she stole quietly in, and found herself in
one of the state apartments of the castle. It was a grand room, hung
with beautiful tapestry, and full of a great many curious things, the
use of which Wishie could not imagine. Among other things, there was a
magnificent cabinet, and, on one of the shelves, a pretty round ball
of carved ivory, that looked just as if it was made on purpose to roll
along upon the floor, and be run after. And such a large room, too, it
was; the ball would roll about so splendidly.
'Oh!' exclaimed Wishie, 'you pretty ball, I do wish I had you to play
with!'
Bounce came the ball upon the floor, and in another moment, it had
rolled quite to the other end of the room, with Wishie after it, but
it would not suffer her to touch it; just as she came up to it, up it
jumped, dashed high up in the air, over the chairs and tables, and
then descending again on the floor, was here and there and everywhere,
all in a minute; Wishie scampering after it, and absolutely screaming
with delight. Up flew the ball--up to the very ceiling; then down it
came with a rattle against some fine old china on the top of the
cabinet, and in an instant, bowls, jars, and tea-pots, were all lying
on the floor, broken to pieces. Dear me! thought Wishie, this is
rather too much of a good thing; if the old housekeeper should come
in!
But the mad ball never stopped to think about the housekeeper; now it
took a long roll upon the floor, as if to entice Wishie to run after
it; then, suddenly darting up, would hurl itself with all its might,
against one of the grim old pictures; Wishie, who had by this time
quite forgotten the pain of her paw, jumping as high as ever she could
reach after it. It really was something like a game at play! Just
then, bounce it went against a superb mirror at the upper end of the
room, shivering it to atoms; but not a whit did the ball care for
that--with a tremendous spring, it cleared the whole length of the
room, and alighted on one of the picture-frames near the door.