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Once upon a time—I can't say exactly when it was—there stood a neat, tidy little hut on the borders of a wild forest. A poor old woman dwelt in this hut. She lived on the whole pretty comfortably; for, though she was poor, she was able to keep a few goats, that supplied her with milk, and a flock of chickens, that gave her fresh eggs every morning: and then she had a small garden, which she cultivated with her own hands, and that supplied her with cabbages and other vegetables, besides gooseberries and apples for dumplings. Her goats browsed upon the short grass just outside the garden, and her chickens ran about everywhere, and picked up everything they could find. There were some fine old trees which defended the cottage on three sidesfrom the cold winds, and the front was to the south; so it was very snug and sheltered. The forest afforded her sticks and young logs for fuel, so that she never was in want of a fire; and, altogether, she managed to make out a pretty comfortable life of it, as times went.
The only friend and companion the old woman had, was her gray cat. Now, the cat was a middle-aged cat: she had arrived at a time of life when people grow reflective; and she sat by the hearth and reflected very often. What did she reflect about? That is rather a long story. You must know, then, that a few leagues from the old woman's hut, on the other side of the forest, there rose a grand castle, belonging to a very great baron. And sometimes, on fine summer mornings, as the old woman and the cat were sitting in the sunshine, by the door, the old woman at her spinning-wheel, and puss curled up for a nap after her breakfast, the forest would suddenly ring with the sound of hunting-horns, shoutsand laughter; and a train of gay ladies and richly dressed gentlemen would sweep by on horseback, with hawk and hound, and followed by servants in splendid liveries; for the baron was fond of hawking and hunting, and frequently took those diversions in the neighboring forests. Now, it so happened, that in one of the tall trees behind the cottage, there lived a magpie: not by any means an ordinary magpie, but a bird that had seen a good deal of the world; indeed, at one time of her life, she had, as she took care to inform every body, lived in the service of the Countess Von Rustenfustenmustencrustenberg. How she happened to leave such a grand situation, the magpie never explained: to be sure, some ill-natured peopledidsay that there had been an awkward story about the loss of one of the countess's diamond bracelets, which was found one fine morning, in the inside of a hollow tree in the garden; and that Mag was turned away in disgrace directly. But how the matter really was, I cannot say: allthat I know is, that she took up her abode half-way up one of the large oaks, behind the old woman's hut, a long time before our story begins; and that, being of a particularly sociable and chatty disposition, she soon established an ardent friendship with the cat, and they became the greatest cronies in the world. So when, as I said just now, the baron's grand hunting parties swept past, they afforded the magpie a fine opportunity for displaying her knowledge of life and the world. And sometimes, too, she would dwell at great length on the splendor and happiness she had enjoyed while she lived with the countess in her palace, till the cat's fur almost stood on end to hear the wonders she related.—What a place that palace must have been! very different, indeed, from the old woman's cottage!
Now, these conversations with the magpie sadly unsettled the mind of the cat; more particularly when the magpie related to her how daintily the Countess Von Rustenfustenmustencrustenberg's cat always lived—whatnice bits of chicken she dined upon, what delicious morsels of buttered crumpet she often had for breakfast, what soft cushions she lay upon, and a great deal more to the same purpose: all which made a powerful impression upon our humble friend. So she sate and reflected by the fire, while the good old woman, her mistress, went on spinning the wool which she sold afterwards at the nearest town, to buy food and clothes.
The more the cat talked to the magpie, the more dissatisfied she became with her present condition; till, at last, I am sadly afraid that when, in a morning, the old woman gave her her breakfast of goats' milk with some nice brown bread broken into it, she began rather to despise it, instead of taking it thankfully, as she ought to have done, for she was really very comfortably off in the cottage—having bread and milk every morning and night, and something for dinner too; besides what mice she could catch, to say nothing of a stray robin or sparrow now and then. But, as I said justnow, the magpie's chattering stories unsettled her; she thought it would be so charming to dine upon bits of roast chicken, and have buttered crumpets for breakfast, and fine cushions to lie upon, like the countess's cat. All this was very silly, no doubt; but she wanted experience: she knew nothing of the thousands and thousands of poor cats who would have thoughtherlife quite luxurious. It is a very bad thing to get unsettled; it sets people wishing and doing many foolish things.
One fine bright evening, the magpie was perched upon a projecting bough of her oak, and the cat, who thought the cottage particularly dull that day, had come out for a little gossip.
'Good evening!' screamed the magpie, as soon as she saw her; 'do come up here and let us talk politics a little.' So the cat climbed up, and seated herself on another bough a little below.
'You look out of spirits to-day;' began the magpie, bending down a very inquisitiveeye to her friend's face; I am afraid you are not well; but I'm not surprised: that old sparrow I saw you eating for dinner must have been as tough as leather; it is no wonder you are ill after it! You should really be more careful, and only catch the nice tender young ones.'
'Thank you,' replied the cat, in a rather melancholy tone; 'I am perfectly well.'
'Then what in the world ails you, my dear friend?'
'I don't know,' answered the cat; 'but I believe I am getting rather tired of staying here all my life.'
'Ah!' exclaimed the magpie, 'I know what that is—I feel for you, puss! you may well be moped, living in that stupid cottage all day. You are not like myself, now;Ihave had such advantages! I declare to you I can amuse myself the whole day with the recollection of the wonderful things I have seen when I lived in the great world.'
'There it is!' interrupted the cat; 'tothink of the difference in people's situations! Just compare my condition, in this wretched hole of a hut, with the life that you say the countess's cat lives. I'm sure I can hardly eat my sop in the morning for thinking of her buttered crumpets—dear! dear! it's a fine thing to be born in a palace!'
'Indeed,' replied the magpie, 'there is a great deal of truth in what you say; and sometimes I half repent of having retired from her service myself; but there's a great charm in liberty—it is pleasant to feel able to fly about wherever one likes, and have no impertinent questions asked.'
'Does the countess's cat ever do any work?' inquired puss.
'Not a bit,' answered the magpie. 'I don't suppose she ever caught a mouse in her life; why should she? She has plenty to eat and drink, and nothing to do but to sleep or play all day long.'
'What a life!' ejaculated the cat; 'and here am I, obliged to take the trouble to catch birds or anything I can, if I want tomake out my dinner,—what a world it is!'
'Your most obedient servant, ladies!' just at that moment hooted an old owl from a neighboring fir-tree; 'a fine evening to you!'
'Dear me, Mr. Owl! how you made me jump!' cried the magpie, rather pettishly; 'I had nearly toppled down from the bough—'
To say the truth, the magpie did not particularly fancy the owl's company—he was apt to come out with very rude things sometimes; besides, he was reckoned a very sensible bird, and Mag always declared she hated sensible birds—they were so dreadfully dull, and thought themselves so much wiser than other people.
'I beg pardon—I am afraid I have interrupted an interesting discourse,' began the owl, observing that his salutation had rather discomposed the magpie.
The cat, however, was not sorry to have the opportunity of imparting her griefs and perplexities to a bird who was so generally respected for his wisdom; so she replied:—
'Why, indeed, my dear sir, we were conversing upon the lamentable differences there are in the world.'
'You may well say that,' answered the owl, giving a blink with his left eye. 'I suppose, now, ma'am,' he added, rather dryly, turning to the magpie, 'your ladyship finds a good deal of difference between your present abode, and the countess's grand palace-garden? I only wonder how you could bring yourself to make such a change—at your time of life, especially.'
What an abominable uncivil speech, thought the magpie; she fidgeted upon the branch, drew herself up, and muttered something between her beak about the propriety of people attending to their own concerns.
'Butyou, my dear cat,' continued the owl, 'you have every reason, I should think, to be perfectly satisfied with your lot in life?'
'I am not so sure of that,' said the cat; 'Ithink I have a good many reasons for being quite the contrary; the countess's cat has buttered crumpets and cream forbreakfast, and sleeps on a beautiful soft cushion all night, and all day too, if she likes it: and just look what a dull life of it I lead here! and I have nothing but the hearth to lie upon, and nothing for breakfast but milk and brown bread!'
'And you ought to be thankful you can get that!' cried the owl, quite angrily. 'I tell you what, Mrs. Puss, I have seen more of the world than you have, and I just say this for your comfort—if you could see howsomepoor cats live, you would be glad enough of your present condition.'
'Humph!' muttered the cat, 'I really don't know how you have contrived to see so much of the world, sitting as you do in a tree all day, blinking your eyes as if you couldn't bear a ray of sunshine: now, with all due submission to your superior wisdom, I should think the magpie ought to know something of life, after the high society she has lived in,—and I do say it is a shame that one cat should have buttered crumpets and cream for breakfast, just because shehappens to live in a palace, while another has only brown sop, becauseshehappens to live in a cottage!'
'But suppose,' replied the owl, 'that some other cat, who lives in a cellar, and never gets anything to eat, except what she can pick up in the gutters, should take it into her head to say, "What a shame it is that some cats should have nice snug cottages over their heads, and warm hearths to sit by, and bread and milk for breakfast, while I am obliged to live in this horrid cold cellar, and never know how to get a mouthful?"'
The cat was rather disconcerted by this observation at first; but presently answered:
'My dear Mr. Owl, don't let us exaggerate,—you can't seriously mean to say there are any cats in the world in such a condition as you speak of? I am sure the magpie, with all her experience of life, would have told me about it, if it were really so—you must be mistaken.'
The magpie, by this time, had become exceedingly tired of such a long silence, and was beginning to think that she had stood upon her dignity quite long enough.
'You will excuse me, my worthy friend,' she said, turning to the owl, 'but really you do sit there so, day after day, blinking in the sun, without a soul to speak to, that I don't wonder at your taking very strange fancies into your head. I can only say, that during the whole of my residence in the palace of the Countess Von Rustenfustenmustencrustenberg, my late respected mistress,Inever came in contact with any cat in the condition you are pleased to imagine; and I should know something of the world, I think.'
'Well,' replied the owl, quietly, 'I will not dispute your ladyship's knowledge of the world, but I strongly advise our friend Mrs. Puss to remain contented at home, and not try to improve her fortune by going into the town: people should learn to know when they are well off.'
Just then, patter, patter, patter, came a few large drops through the leaves; the magpie making a prodigious chattering, and declaring that a tremendous storm was coming on, flew down from the bough; and, whispering the cat not to mind what the owl said—'a stupid old bird!'—she presently hid herself, very snug, in a hollow place in the trunk: not very sorry, to say the truth, to break up the conversation. The owl very deliberately nestled himself in a thick bush of ivy that grew near, and the cat ran into the cottage, to sit by the fire and reflect; for between her two friends, her mind was a little perplexed.
The old woman shut the cottage door, heaped some dry fir-logs on the fire, and sate down to her spinning-wheel. The rain pelted against the shutters, the wind howled in the tree-tops, and roared loudly in the forest behind the hut; it was a terrible night out of doors, but within the cottage it was snug enough,—the fire was blazing merrily, the old woman's wheel turnedbriskly round, the kettle was singing a low quiet song to itself beside the crackling logs, and the cat was sitting on the hearth, looking warm and comfortable. But I am afraid she was not at all comfortable—in her mind; for discontented people seldom are. It never entered her head to consider whether there were any poor cats abroad that night, without a shelter over them; for grumblers are always selfish, and never think of the wants of others. In fact, she could think of nothing, just at that time, but the luxuries enjoyed by the fortunate cats who might happen to be born in grand palaces; so, curled up in the warmest corner of the hearth, she sate watching the little spouts of flame that kept flashing up from the pine logs, and wishing, for the hundredth time that day, that she had had the good luck to be a palace cat. Presently a very strange thing happened to her.
All of a sudden she felt something very lightly touch her coat; and looking round, there stood, close by her, the most beautifullittle thing that anybody ever dreamt of. She was not many inches high; her robe seemed made of gold and silver threads, fine as gossamer, woven together: on her head she wore a circlet of diamonds, so small and bright, that they looked like sparks of fire, and in her tiny hand she bore a long and very slight silver wand—it was more like a very,veryfine knitting-pin than anything else.
The cat looked at her with unutterable astonishment: it was very odd that the old woman did not seem to see her at all.
The beautiful little lady looked at the cat for a minute or two very steadily, and then said, 'You are wishing for something; what is it?'
By this time the cat had sufficiently recovered from her consternation to be able to speak: so she answered, 'Please your majesty, whoever you are, you have guessed right for once—Iamwishing for something: I wish to live in the palace of the magpie's grand countess!'
Wonderful to relate—the words were no sooner spoken, than the Fairy struck her wand upon the floor three times, and lo! and behold! instantly there appeared—though how it got there, I can't imagine—a car made of four large scallop shells joined together, and lined with rich velvet; the wheels were studded with the whitest pearls, and it was drawn by eight silver pheasants. The Fairy seated herself inside, and told the cat to jump in after her. Puss obeyed, and in an instant the hut, the old woman, the little garden, all had vanished! and she and the Fairy were sailing through the air as fast as the eight pheasants could fly.
'Where in the world are we going, please your majesty?' said poor puss, in a dreadfully frightened tone, clinging to the sides of the car with her claws, that she might not be tossed out. 'Hush!' said the Fairy, in a voice so solemn, that the cat did not venture to ask another question.
On—on—on they flew, till the gloomy forest was left far behind; the storm hadsubsided; and, as the moon came out from behind the clouds, the cat perceived they were passing over a wild moorland country. On—on, the birds flew, and the wild heath swelled into mountains, and sank again into plain and valley; and they heard beneath them, like the distant sea, the rustling of the wind among clumps of pine-trees. On—on, the birds flew, till, at length there appeared, far before them, the glimmering lights and dim outlines of a stately city. On—on, the birds flew, and the city grew nearer and nearer; turrets and spires and ancient gables rose in the bright moonlight, and the houses grew thicker and thicker together.
At length the pheasants flew more slowly, and the cat saw that they were approaching a very magnificent palace. How her heart beat, partly with fright, partly with the rapid motion, partly with expectation! Yes, they were evidently drawing near to a magnificent palace. It had high towers and curiously carved gateways, that threw strangedeep shadows upon the walls, and the panes of the lattices glittered like diamonds in the moon-beams, and the smoke from the chimneys curled up into the cat's face, and got down her throat, and made her sneeze dreadfully—she wondered how the Fairy could bear it. But now, slowly, slowly, slowly, the wonderful car began to descend, till it was just on a level with one of the windows, which happened, very conveniently, to have been left wide open: so in flew the pheasants, car and all, and alighted on the hearth-rug. 'Jump out—be quick!' cried the Fairy. The cat did not wait to be told twice—she was out in a twinkling; but before she could turn her head round, car, Fairy, and pheasants had vanished, and she was left alone in the strange room. 'To be sure,' she exclaimed to herself, 'was there ever anything so extraordinary?' What an adventure! And what a room it was! It was so large, that three or four huts, like her old mistress's, would have stood in it. The floor was covered with something sothick, so warm, and so beautiful, all over flowers in bright colors, that she had never seen anything like it before: in short, everything in the room was so fine, or so soft, or so large, or so bright, that the cat could not conceive what such strange things could be meant for.
However, she soon decided that the hearth-rug was the most delightful bed she had ever reposed upon; and, stretching out her limbs upon it, before the huge fire that was burning in the grate, she strove to collect her bewildered ideas ere she proceeded any further to investigate these unknown regions. Suddenly the door opened.
'Dear! what a pretty cat!' exclaimed a waiting-maid, entering the room; 'and just as we were wanting another, too: my lady, the countess, will be quite pleased.' Then, coming up to the cat, she took her in her arms, and began stroking her most affectionately. 'Pretty pussy! how could you ever get into the room? O I see they have left the window open, so you have wandered inout of the street, poor little cat! It's really quite lucky, just as the old one is dead.' So saying, she again stroked the cat, and carried her away with her into an inner room, where there sat an old lady in an easy chair by the fire, apparently employed in eating her supper.
'Please your ladyship,' said the waiting-woman, 'here's a poor cat come into the house to-night, just as we were wanting one—will your ladyship be pleased to let it remain here?'
'To be sure,' said the old Countess Von Rustenfustenmustencrustenberg (for it was she); 'it has just come in to supply the place of poor old Finette: put it into Finette's bed to-night, Ermengarde, and give it a good meal first, for I dare say it is hungry enough, poor creature! But, first, bring it here, and let me stroke it.'
You may imagine how puss purred her very loudest as the countess patted her, and called her a pretty cat. She thought herself now the luckiest cat in the world: how shewished that spiteful old owl could but know about it! Ermengarde, the waiting-woman, now took her back into the room she had first entered, and setting her down on the hearth-rug, went out. Presently she returned, and placed before the cat a dish, containing such a supper, as had never entered her imagination till the magpie enlightened her on these subjects: it was some minutes before she could believe it; was itreal? However, she did it full justice in time; and then, after a great deal more patting and petting, the maid again took her up, and deposited her by the side of the fire, in a very pretty basket lined with soft cushions. And could she go to sleep? Not for some time, in spite of her long ride. It all seemed so strange—so wonderful! that she, who had been longing for months to belong to the household of the Countess Von Rustenfustenmustencrustenberg, should now be actually in her palace! It was extraordinary indeed. But she fell asleep at last.
The next morning the cat was awakeearly, and the sun was shining through the satin curtains of the splendid room, and everything in it looked soverybeautiful! How different from the old woman's hut! So the cat sate up in the basket, and looked about her. After she had thus amused herself in this way for some time, Ermengarde opened the door.
'Well, Pussy,' she said, 'so you are wide awake, and ready, I dare say, for your breakfast.'
Now for the buttered crumpets! thought the cat. The maid went out, and quickly returned with a large saucer full of rich milk, with some roll crumbled into it. No buttered crumpets.
The cat felt a sort of blank feeling of disappointment; it was very odd: but perhaps she should have some another morning. However, she made an exceedingly good breakfast, as it was; but it must be confessed she was a little cross all day. Soon after breakfast, the old countess came in, followed by a lap-dog—a fat, spoilt,disagreeable looking animal, and the cat took a dislike to him at first sight. And as for the dog, he almost growled out aloud when the countess stooped down to stroke the cat. It was evident that the hatred was quite mutual.
'Now, Viper,' said the old lady, 'be good! you know you are my own darling, that you are; but you must not quarrel with poor pussy: no fighting you know, Viper!'
Whereupon Viper struggled down out of his mistress's arms, for she had taken him up to bestow a kiss upon him, and giving a short snarl, by way of showing his perfect contempt for her admonition, he mounted upon a stool before the fire, and sat eyeing his new acquaintance with such a fierce pair of eyes, that the poor cat really shook all over, and wished herself safe out of the palace again. However, whenever the countess left the room, she always called Viper away too; so they were not left together at all the first day. On the following, the cat began to get used to Viper's cross looks, anddid not mind him so much: and the old lady petted and made so much of her, that she thought no cat had ever been so fortunate before. As to that, we shall see.
Dinner-time came: and as Viper was to dine with the cat, Ermengarde brought intwoplates this time, and to work they fell with all their might. Viper had nearly eaten up all his own dinner, and the cat was saving a beautiful merrythought for her lasttit-bit, when, as ill luck would have it, the countess was suddenly called out of the room.
Instantly, with a growl that sounded in the cat's ears like thunder, Viper darted full at the merrythought, exclaiming:
'You vile little wretch of a stray cat, do you suppose I shall suffer you to come in here, and rob me of my bones?'
'Indeed, my lord,' said the cat, dreadfully frightened, 'I did not mean to take more than my share!'
'And pray, madam,' screamed Viper, 'what do you mean by that? Do youintend to insinuate that I have taken more than mine? Now, Mrs. Puss, just listen to me once for all,—if you give me any more of your impertinence, I'll worry you to death in two minutes!'
Poor puss! she trembled so from head to tail, that she could hardly stand: but just as she was going to beseech him not to be offended, the countess came in again; and as she soon afterwards took Viper out an airing with her, the cat saw no more of him for that afternoon. Poor puss! she had a great deal of sorrowful reflection all that evening. The result of it was, that she very seriously asked herself what she had gained by leaving her mistress's cottage? To be sure, she had cream for breakfast, and chicken for dinner, but what was that, if, every mouthful she ate, she was in fear of that savage brute of a dog snatching away her meal, or even attacking and worrying her?
Fifty times did she wish herself a hundred leagues off. How careful she resolvedto 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 ownfootstool! 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 hestood 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.
Whathadbecome 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, theypursued 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 ofdogsthere; andfinding 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 placebeforedinner; 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 alllooked 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 beencontented, 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 andhungry, 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 abird—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 wassocold 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 weatherbecame 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 thebright 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 lookedpreciselythe 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, theymusthave 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 eggsand 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 youthat 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 elevenleagues 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.
End of Chapter image, facing page 93
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 calledWishie, the youngerContenta. 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 wouldhave 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 givesmesuch 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, andbegan 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 shedidit, 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 ofthick 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 wasdressed 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 ofwishing, 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 themshowed 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 chairsand 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 ofthe 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.
But Wishie was getting much too frightened now to enjoy the fun any longer: she stood, gazing with rueful looks at the broken mirror—O if the cross old housekeeper should find it out! She thought the best plan would be to steal out of the room, but on turning round, she perceived that the door had become most unaccountably shut—there was no getting out. What was to be done? While she was turning it over in her mind, down came the ball directly upon Wishie's tail, with such a thump! Wishie thought her poor tail must be utterly demolished—she heard an odd sort of chuckling laugh up in the air, and, looking up, saw that the ball had seated itself, very quietly, in its old place on the top of the cabinet. How her tail smarted! it was worse a great deal than the sting. She wasjust trying to curl it round to lick it, when the door opened, and in came the housekeeper! She had not advanced many steps when the broken china caught her eye; her back was towards the mirror, so she did not seethat—but shedidsee Wishie, and exclaiming, 'You naughty little kitten, you have been throwing down the china!' She flew towards Wishie, and if she could have caught her, would, no doubt, have given her a dreadful whipping; but, as she had luckily left the door open, Wishie contrived to slip past her, and dart out of the room. When the housekeeper turned round, she spied the broken mirror; which put her into such a consternation, that, for a few minutes, she was really too much thunderstruck to run after Wishie. And there sate the ball on the cabinet, very quietly, and nobody ever suspected it.
It was lucky for Wishie that she gained a few minutes on the housekeeper, for by that means, making the best use of her time, she flew along the gallery, down thestaircase, and jumping out of an open window, was safely hidden among the shrubs in the garden, before her enemy had descended the stairs. Poor Wishie! the pain in her tail was terrible; and she dared not go to her mother, to tell her misfortunes, for she knew that if she did, her mother would be sure to cuff her soundly. So she lay still under the bushes, licking her tail, and trying to forget her troubles as well as she could. Evening came on; the sun was low in the heavens, and the little birds, that had set out in the morning full of glee, came back merrily to their nests, and made themselves comfortable for the night: it was clear they had had a very happy day of it, though very likely not all they wished for. Wishie sighed as she listened to their cheerful chirpings. By and bye she began to feel very hungry, and she thought if she could find Contenta, she could beg a bit of her supper, for, of course, nobody else would give her any. So she crawled out of the bushes, and stole into the court-yard. Noone was about; all was quite still: she crept along under the house till she reached the place where the cats' supper was always put out for them on the top of a flat stone. Her papa and mamma, and Contenta, had certainly finished their supper, but they had remembered Wishie, and very good-naturedly left her some in the dish; so that she really made a very good supper, better than she deserved a great deal. Having accomplished this important point, she thought, as all seemed so quiet, she might venture into the house.
The great door, which opened into the court-yard, had been left ajar, so she crept in, and peeped into the hall. No one was there; it was getting dusk: the old knights and ladies who hung against the walls of the great hall, looked down upon her so gloomily, that she began to wonder whether they meant to jump upon the floor and give her a beating. However, they staid quietly in their black frames, and Wishie crept on, and on, shaking all over for fear she shouldmeet anybody, till seeing the door of the baron's dining-hall wide open, she ventured in. The room was empty; the baron's dinner had been over hours ago; there seemed no fear of any one coming, so she grew bolder and jumped upon one of the window-seats to consider what she should do with herself all night. But before she had settled that point, she began to grow rather thirsty, and (quite forgetting that she had already had a very good supper, and that Contenta had left her her full share of the milk that was put out for them every night), being naturally of a very greedy disposition, she thought how nice a great dish full of cream would be.
Now it so happened, that close by the window-seat on which she had stationed herself, there stood on the floor a huge old china punch-bowl, which was never used except on very great occasions, such as a marriage in the baron's family, and the like. Many a long year it was since that bowl had ever been used! there it stood, half-covered withcobwebs; but the housekeeper came and dusted it sometimes. Well; Wishie's eye just then fell on the great bowl.
'What a quantity of cream it would hold!' she exclaimed; 'how nice it would be to have it to lap whenever I liked! I do wish it was full of nice thick cream, like that the baron has for breakfast!'
Wishie had hardly said it, when something began bubbling up, very gently, as if it was very soft, from the bottom of the bowl, and in a few minutes there floated at her feet, a perfect white sea! an ocean of cream—smooth, delicious, and tempting. It was so conveniently close to the window-sill, too, that by planting her fore-paws on the rim of the bowl, she could stoop down and lap so comfortably! At least she thought so at first; but somehow, when she came to try, the china was so thin and so slippery, that she found she could get very little hold. It was very provoking. But she tried a second time; really, it wasdreadfullyslippery, and there was nothing that she couldstick her claws into—however, she did at last contrive to get her tongue just to the top of the cream; but she had scarcely tasted it, when suddenly her paws shot apart, and she tumbled headlong into the bowl! The bowl was deep and wide, and there was nothing for her to cling to, to help herself out by. O, what a splashing and spluttering she made! but it did her no good; the cream got into her eyes, her mouth, her nostrils, and she could not anyhow lift herself out of it—there she must stay, coughing, choking, and struggling, till she was drowned. Wishie thought she had quite enough cream! But just as she was sinking down, quite exhausted with her useless efforts, she felt her neck seized, and that some one was drawing her out of the bowl. The next minute she was laid safe and sound on the floor. It was some little time before she could open her eyes, and when she did so, she was exceedingly astonished to see, by the waning light, the beautiful lady with the golden locks and crown of white roses, and glittering dew-drops.
'Well, Wishie,' said the Fairy, 'have you had a pleasant day of it? You have had everything you wished for, I think?'
'O dear, ma'am!' replied Wishie, shaking her ears to get the cream out, 'I never had such a miserable day in my life! I have met with such dreadful misfortunes!'
'Then,' said the Fairy, 'you think that your day would have been a happier one, if you hadnothad everything you fancied you should like?'
Wishie hung her head down, and looked very silly; and at last answered that 'she thought it would.'
'I am quite of that opinion,' replied the Fairy; 'and, as you seem by this time to have had pretty plain proofs of the folly ofwishing, I will take away my dangerous gift from you; for I hope you will be wiser now than you have ever been before.' So saying, the Fairy gave her a stroke with her wand, and Wishie directly found herself in her own little bed, by the side of her sister Contenta, who was sound asleep. And in aminute Wishie fell asleep too, and never awoke till the sun was shining in at the windows. She told all her strange adventures to her father and mother and Contenta; upon which they all held up their paws, and declared they had never heard anything so wonderful. But her father and mother scolded her also, and told her it was all her own fault, which Wishie felt was too true; and, from that day forwards, she never mewed for anything, but became as satisfied and good-humored as Contenta herself; and even the housekeeper at last grew quite fond of her.