together from all parts and went leaping and running and flying into the
Janjibo, crying ‘No peace! No peace! The Lion says no peace.’ The hens
cackled it, the roosters crowed it, the geese squawked it, the turkeys
gobbled it, the guinea fowl squalled it, the peacocks screamed it, and
the Janjibo was broken up and the rats and mice ran away quick, for if
there was no peace they were in dreadful danger.
“The young rat was in a hurry to get away from the cats, and the frog
was in a hurry to get away from the hens and other fowl. The young rat
said that as he could go faster by runs than the frog could by leaps, he
would take the frog ratback. The frog threw on a hat and cloak to hide
himself, as he had to sit high, in plain sight, and got on the young
rat’s back, and they went so swift that the frog lost his hat off
behind.
“The mother rat and her daughter kept as near them as they could. When
the young rat grew tired he begged the frog to whip him and make him go
fast, for he would rather be whipped than be caught by the cats.
“He was not caught. They both reached their home at the edge of the
pond, and left that home no more. The young rat married the mother rat’s
daughter, and they had many children, and the frog married the frog he
loved best, and had a large family of little tadpoles, and the little
tadpoles played with the little rats and the little rats played with the
little tadpoles, and the little rats told rat stories, and the little
tadpoles told tadpole stories, and they all lived happily all their
lives.”
* * * * *
“And that is the end of the story, your majesty,” said the lovely
Pussyanita. “And a good end,” said King Grimalkum. “I knew I should like
the story. Is it truly the silliest story that ever was?” “Yes, your
majesty,” replied Pussyanita. “The silliest, I mean, of our kind of
stories. Of course it is not as silly as the stories the little tadpoles
told the little rats.”
“Were the stories the little tadpoles told the little rats, sillier than
the ones the little rats told the little tadpoles?” asked the king.
“Much sillier,” replied Pussyanita.
“Tell them,” said the king.
“But your majesty,” replied Pussyanita, “there were swarms of little
tadpoles and I have not long to live.”
“You shall live as long as you can, you lovely creature!” cried the
king. “Do you think I would put an end to the life of a sweet young
story-teller who can tell both common sense stories and not common sense
stories? No! Live! Live and be happy!”
“Alas!” replied the lovely Pussyanita. “I cannot be happy when so many
of my kind are in danger. Oh, take back your cruel command! Let our
whole race live!”
“I do take it back,” answered the king. “For your sake the whole race
shall live.”
* * * * *
The cruel command was taken back. The whole race of cats were allowed to
live. Those which were “white, or yellow, or which had more white or
yellow hairs than dark ones,” all these as well as the “black, Maltese
and gray,” were for Pussyanita’s sake allowed to live.
* * * * *
“Here, uncle Fred, is your Cats’ Arabian Nights Story Book,” said cousin
Lucia, “all ready for the children when they shall come next summer with
their fathers and mothers; and I hope they will have as much fun in
hearing it as I had in writing it.”
------------------------------------------------------------------------
● Transcriber’s Notes:
○ Missing or obscured punctuation was silently corrected.
○ Typographical errors were silently corrected.
○ Inconsistent spelling and hyphenation were made consistent only
when a predominant form was found in this book.
○ Text that:
was in italics is enclosed by underscores (_italics_).