Part 1
KITTY-CAT TALES.
[Illustration]
[Illustration: IMPTY CURLED HIMSELF UP CLOSE TO THE PILLOW, AND BEGAN THE STORY.--_Page 12._]
KITTY-CAT TALES
BY
ALICE VAN LEER CARRICK
ILLUSTRATED BY
HOMER EATON KEYES AND BERTHA G. DAVIDSON
[Illustration]
BOSTON
LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO.
PUBLISHED, AUGUST, 1907.
COPYRIGHT, 1907, BY LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD COMPANY.
_All Rights Reserved._
KITTY-CAT TALES.
Norwood Press J. S. Cushing Co.--Berwick & Smith Co. Norwood, Mass., U.S.A.
To
MARGARET AND JOHN
CONTENTS
PAGE
THE FIRST NIGHT 7
THE WHITE CAT 13
THE SECOND NIGHT 39
THE KING OF THE FIELD-MICE 41
THE THIRD NIGHT 55
THE DISCONTENTED CAT 57
THE FOURTH NIGHT 122
THE CAT WHO MARRIED A MOUSE 123
THE FIFTH NIGHT 139
MOTHER MICHEL AND HER CAT 141
THE SIXTH NIGHT 177
VENUS AND THE CAT 178
THE CAT AND THE FOX 181
THE SEVENTH NIGHT 186
DICK WHITTINGTON AND HIS WONDERFUL CAT 189
THE EIGHTH NIGHT 203
THE FUNERAL OF TOM GRIMALKIN 204
THE KING OF THE CATS 210
THE NINTH NIGHT 216
PUSS-IN-BOOTS 218
ILLUSTRATIONS
IMPTY CURLED HIMSELF UP CLOSE TO THE PILLOW, AND BEGAN THE STORY (Page 12) _Frontispiece_
FACING PAGE
THE PRINCE MOUNTED THE HOBBY-HORSE, AND FOUND THAT HE HAD NEVER RIDDEN BETTER 20
“KNOW, THEN, THAT I AM THE KING OF ALL THE FIELD-MICE” 44
THE COUNTESS CAME IN, FOLLOWED BY A LAPDOG 98
“I UNDERSTAND NOW,” SAID THE LITTLE MOUSE, QUITE GENTLY 136
HE OPENED THE BAG, AND TOSSED MOUMOUTH INTO THE WATER 150
VENUS TURNED HER AT ONCE INTO A CAT AGAIN 180
SOME BROUGHT ONE THING, SOME ANOTHER, BUT DICK WHITTINGTON HAD ONLY HIS CAT TO SEND 194
“HAVE YOU ANY SPARE TIME?” ASKED THE OWL 206
“MASTER,” SAID PUSS, “YOU HAVEN’T FARED SO BADLY AS YOU SEEM TO THINK” 220
THE FIRST NIGHT
Dolly sat up in bed, and stared gravely at the shutters where the last sunset light was trying to slip through. She was not at all sleepy, and, because Sandman had not come to shake his magic dust in her eyes, she had time to think what a lonely and very, very unhappy child she was. For Dolly’s mother and father had gone away suddenly to her grandmother, who was ill, and Miss Jane had come to take care of the little girl until they came home. Miss Jane was good to her--Dolly knew that--but, then, Miss Jane had never had any little girls of her own, so she could not know how nice a lump of sugar felt in your hand at bedtime, nor how a tight, lumpy braid of hair could get down your back at night, and keep you awake for ever so long. Miss Jane had given Dolly a drink of water, and heard her say her prayers, and then gone out.
“She never kissed me good night, nor told me just even one story,” the little girl said to herself. “And she wouldn’t shut the door loose, though I said ‘Please,’ ’cause she was afraid Impty would get in. O dear! How I wish I did have him with me!”
Now Impty was a black, black kitten, with long, thin legs, and a thin, curved tail that made him look like a witch’s cat--ready to jump on a broom-stick, and sail off through the air--and he stared solemnly out of such round, yellow eyes that he seemed to understand everything that happened about him.
“Dear me! I wish Impty _was_ here!” said Dolly again, and then something rubbed against her sleeve, and said, “Purr-rr-rr,” a long purr that slid at last into words, and sounded like this, “Purr-rr-rr, poor Dolly, poor Dolly! _I’ll_ tell you a story.”
“Why, Impty, dear, I didn’t know you could talk,” the little girl cried.
“You never asked me,” answered the kitten, demurely. “But I _can_ talk, and I can tell stories, too, for I know all the lore of Cat-Land. When I sleep I go there in my dreams, and my grandfather, the King of the Cats, purrs the Kitty-Cat tales in my ear. You have been so kind to us all your life that you are loved through the whole Cat Kingdom, and so, one tale each night until your mother comes home, I am permitted by the King to tell you. But now lie down, and I will purr to you, and then, if Miss Jane comes in, she can’t do more than say ‘Scat’ and drive me away, but if she heard me really talking, goodness knows what _would_ happen!”
So Dolly cuddled down with a happy little sigh, and Impty curled himself up close to the pillow, and began the story of “The White Cat.”
[Illustration:
THE WHITE CAT ]
Once upon a time there was a King who had three sons, all of whom were so handsome and good and clever, that he could not decide which should be the one to reign after him when he was dead and gone. Now this King was getting old, and as he knew that he must soon make his choice, and appoint his heir, he called his three sons to him.
“Listen,” he said to them: “I am growing older every day, and soon one of you must rule the kingdom in my stead. Now, I love you all so well that I can make no choice, but I will give each of you the chance to win the crown. Gather together your servants and your horses, set out upon a journey, and the one of you who shall bring me back the most beautiful little dog, shall inherit my sceptre. One year will I give you for the search, and then I will make my decision.”
So the three sons took leave of their father, and started in different ways, sad at heart at leaving home and each other, for, though they were rivals, they were devoted brothers. One went north, and one went south, and both saw many strange sights, but the youngest Prince had the most wonderful adventures of all. He wandered here and there, buying dogs of all kinds: dachshunds, spaniels, black and tans, until he had a large pack of tiny dogs trotting at his heels.
Then, when the year was all gone but a month, and he was thinking of turning his steps homeward, he wandered from his followers, and lost his way in a wide, dark forest. After calling out and hallooing in vain, he noticed a number of lights burning brightly not very far away, and he turned his steps in their direction. What was his surprise to come to the gate-ways of a mighty castle, brilliantly lighted, but with no warders at the doors. Instead of men-at-arms, a number of white hands appeared in answer to his knock, and ushered him into a spacious, well-lighted hall. He sat down in a soft arm-chair that the hands had brought up close to the fire, and, when he was warmed and rested, the hands drew off gently his travel-stained garments, and dressed him in a magnificent suit of scarlet satin laced with silver. Then, when he was ready, and looking as a Prince should look, the hands led him into the banqueting-hall, and there, under a canopy at one end of the room, he saw the most beautiful cat he had ever beheld in his life. She was as white as snow, with long, soft, silky fur, and the prettiest little face imaginable. Below her were seated cats playing on harps and lutes, and all about the hall hurried other cats busy on some errand.
His chair was placed beside the White Cat’s; every honor was shown him, and, because he could not eat the mice and rats that were served up in all sorts of ways, the hands brought him his favorite dishes. While they were thus feasting, the Prince happened to look at a bracelet that the Cat was wearing. What was his surprise to see that it was a band of gold that held a miniature of himself! He was lost in wonderment, as well he might have been, for he was sure that never in his life had he given his picture to a cat of any kind. But when he asked her about it, she only smiled sadly, and shook her head, refusing to say anything.
After the banquet was over, as he was very tired from tramping all day long, the hands led him to his chamber, and helped him to bed. The next morning he was awakened by the baying of hounds, and the cries of huntsmen under his windows. Jumping up, he quickly looked out, and saw the whole court ready to set out to the forest. When the hands had dressed him in a suit of Lincoln green, he joined the White Cat, who was waiting for him to come and ride by her side to the hunt. She was mounted on a monkey, and the hands led out a wooden horse for the Prince to ride. At first he was inclined to be angry at being given such a clumsy steed, but the White Cat begged him so gently to try it, that he mounted the hobby-horse, and found that he had never ridden better in his life.
And so, day after day, the Prince spent his time at the Castle of the White Cat: feasting, dancing, hunting, and so quickly did the time go by, that he forgot that his year was nearly spent. He had told the White Cat of his quest, and how he hoped to be able to take back to the King, his father, the most beautiful little dog in the world. But so happy was he that he had forgotten all about it, nor would he have remembered it at all if the Cat had not called him to her, and said, “Prince, to-morrow you must leave me, and go back to your own world.”
[Illustration: THE PRINCE MOUNTED THE HOBBY-HORSE, AND FOUND THAT HE HAD NEVER RIDDEN BETTER.--_Page 20._]
The Prince was heart-broken to think how he had forgotten his promise to his father, but the White Cat told him not to grieve, and placed in his hand an acorn, bidding him hold it to his ear. The Prince did so, and it seemed to him that he heard the bark of a tiny dog.
“Do not open the acorn until you reach the court of the King, and I promise you that all will be well,” she said.
So the Prince bade good-by to the White Cat sadly enough, and set out on his homeward journey, riding his awkward hobby-horse, and in far less time than he had taken to come, he was back again at the Palace. His brothers had arrived before him, and, as he entered the hall, they were showing off proudly their delicate, highly bred dogs. But when the youngest Prince opened the acorn and displayed his beautiful little dog, all black, resting against a white satin cushion, the whole Court cried out in admiration that the Kingdom must surely be given to him.
The old King was a little unwilling, however, to give up ruling yet, and the two other brothers begged so hard to have another chance that it was finally decided that the Princes should again set out on their travels; and that, this time, the one who should bring home the finest piece of linen, long enough to make the king a robe, and delicate enough to pass through the eye of a needle, should have the Kingdom as his reward. A second time the three Princes started out, but now the youngest Prince refused to allow his retinue to accompany him. Instead, he mounted his old hobby-horse, and rode away to the White Cat’s Castle. When he reached the gate, the whole Court of Cats ran to welcome him. The White Cat received him as graciously as before, and when the Prince told her the search he had again been sent upon, she smiled, and promised that she would set her cleverest spinners at work. There, for another year, the Prince stayed, and the time went as swiftly as happiness always does, and he was amazed when the White Cat called him to her, and told him that he must go that very night if he wished to reach his father’s court in time for the test. Then she put into his hand a walnut, bidding him keep it carefully until he should reach the King’s Palace.
Just as before, he arrived as his brothers, believing that he would not come in time, were opening out their webs of linen. Very fine they were. The web that the eldest brother had brought would slip with ease through a bodkin; the second son’s piece could be drawn through the eye of a large darning needle; but the whole Court, remembering what the youngest Prince had already done, waited to see what he had to show. He took the walnut from his pocket and cracked it. Inside was a hazel-nut. This he cracked, too, and, what was his surprise to find a cherry-stone!
When he had broken this in halves he saw inside a grain of wheat, and in the grain of wheat a millet seed. And then the Prince lost heart, and thought that the friend he had so believed in had played him some cruel trick. But as this idea passed through his mind he felt a soft scratch on his hand to let him know that the White Cat was true. So he opened the millet seed, and drew forth the finest web of linen in the world. At the least it was four hundred ells long, and so delicate that it would slip with ease through the eye of the smallest needle that could be found.
All the courtiers cried aloud together that the youngest Prince had once more won the Kingdom, but the elder brothers begged for a third chance, and as the old King was still unwilling to give up his throne, he decided that his three sons should again set out, and that the one who brought home the most beautiful maiden should marry her, and that as King and Queen they should rule together over his Kingdom.
For the last time the Princes started forth on their quest. The elder brothers took their own roads, but the youngest, mounting his old wooden horse, rode straight to the Castle of the White Cat. She was as happy as ever to see him, and soothed away his disappointment, promising him all the help in her power. Just as before, the days sped away in merry-making, and when the year rolled round again, the White Cat told the Prince that now the time had come when he was to carry back to his father’s Palace the most beautiful girl in the world.
“But where shall I find her?” cried the Prince, in despair. “I have delayed too long in your castle, and now I shall never rule over my father’s Kingdom.”
“Yes, you shall,” replied the White Cat. “If you will do as I bid you, you shall have the most beautiful Princess in the world for your bride. Take your sword, cut off my head and tail, and fling me into the fire that burns in the great hall.”
The Prince angrily refused to do anything so base.
“What! After all your kindness would you have me treat you as your worst enemy might? No, I would far rather never be King than buy my inheritance at such a price,” he said.
But the White Cat begged so, telling him, with tears in her eyes, that it was the greatest favor in the world that could be done her, that, at last, the Prince consented.
He drew his sword, cut off her head and tail, and flung her into the fire. In her stead rose up, to his great wonderment, the most beautiful girl he had ever seen.
She stretched out her hands to him.
“Oh, you have saved me from a horrible enchantment, dear Prince,” she cried. “If you had not done as I asked, all my life long I should have remained a cat. I was changed into that shape, and condemned to stay so until my death, or until the enchantment should be broken, because I displeased the fairies who brought me up. They declared that I must marry the hideous little King of the Dwarfs, and when I refused, and showed them your picture, telling them that you were the only man that I would ever wed, they threw this spell over me. And now, if you love me as I do you, and wish to marry me, take me to your father’s Palace, and the Kingdom shall be yours.”
The Prince, who all this time had been falling deeper and deeper in love, helped her mount her horse, and followed by her attendants--who were cats no longer, but men and women like themselves--the Prince and the beautiful Princess rode back to his home.
The brides of the elder brothers were beautiful to see; the Court could not decide which was the lovelier, but when the youngest Prince entered the hall, every courtier declared that he had again been successful.
The old King rose from his throne.
“My son,” he said, “the Princess you have brought home is the loveliest lady that these old eyes have ever seen, and though my Kingdom is all unworthy her rule, it is yours; fairly have you won it.”
But the Princess knelt down beside him, and said:--
“We will not take your crown from you, for I am Queen of five mighty Kingdoms. Therefore you shall keep yours, and one each will I give to your elder sons, while my husband and I will reign over the other three.”
So every one was contented, and as for the Prince and his beautiful Princess, none ever ruled more wisely, nor were more beloved by their subjects than they were.
* * * * *
“And so they lived happy for ever and ever afterwards,” murmured Dolly, contentedly. “All nice fairy tales end that way, Impty.”
But Impty only yawned, and arched his back lazily. Then he jumped down from the bed.
“I am going to Cat-Land now,” he said, “to get you a story for to-morrow night. And I am going to sleep under the big arm-chair, near the door, so that I can slip out when Miss Jane comes in at seven o’clock. If she sees me, you know she might lock me up in the shed to-morrow night, and then, what _would_ we do?”
And, in another minute, the little lonely child--not lonely any more, but very happy--and the black, black kitten were fast asleep.
THE SECOND NIGHT
Miss Jane must have been astonished at the willing way Dolly went to bed the next night. There never was a child more ready to be undressed; and although Miss Jane braided her hair in a tighter, lumpier braid than ever, Dolly never said a word. There was no need for the child to sit up in bed and stare at the light slanting through the shutters, as she thought how far away her mother was. Instead, she cuddled into her pillow contentedly, and as soon as Miss Jane was safely downstairs, Impty jumped up, and curled himself into a soft, black ball beside her.
“To-night,” he began, “to-night I am going to tell you the tale of ‘The King of the Field-Mice.’”
[Illustration:
THE KING OF THE FIELD MICE ]
There was, once upon a time, long, long ago in Japan, a very poor man, a gardener named Chúgoro Yamakawa, who, with his wife, Ino-yo San, lived in a little cottage on a small plot of ground. All that they had to eat they raised in their garden, and their clothes were bought by the money that the old man made in selling his vegetables and fruits from door to door. Their only treasure was their cat Tamá, a large, sleek fellow, and the finest mouser in the whole neighborhood. Every day, when Chúgoro went to work in his garden, Tamá trotted after him, and rubbed up against him, as if to say, “My dear Master! How I wish that I could help you!”
Well, one day, as Chúgoro was digging around his young bamboo trees, Tamá came bounding through the grass with something in his mouth. The old man looked down, and saw that it was a pretty little field-mouse, and, as he was a very kind-hearted man, he took it away from the cat, who seemed perfectly contented, and trotted off as if his business was done.
The field-mouse was not dead, only frightened, and as soon as Chúgoro put it down on the ground again, instead of running away, it sat up on its hind legs, and said in the tiniest, clear voice: “I owe you many thanks, Chúgoro Yamakawa, for saving my life. Know, then, that I am the King of all the Field-Mice, and, if you will meet me to-night at the door of my Palace, I will bestow great riches upon you.”
The old gardener thanked the little King, and promised to meet him that evening as soon as his work was done. So, after sunset, leaving Tamá with Ino-yo San, he walked through the garden until he reached the hole where the mouse was waiting for him.
“But I cannot enter here,” said Chúgoro, looking at the little hole. “Oh, yes you can,” answered the King, “for I will touch you with my paw, and then you will grow small like me, and able to enter my dwelling.”
[Illustration: “KNOW, THEN, THAT I AM THE KING OF ALL THE FIELD-MICE.”
_Page 43._]
He stretched out his paw, and immediately the old man shrank and shrank until he was no larger than the King of the Field-Mice himself.
They walked together down a narrow passage-way which, after a little, widened into a beautiful hall, all glittering with gold and silver. In the middle was a table richly spread with “o-tsu-yu” and salad and raw fish, all in gorgeous lacquered bowls, with plenty of “saki” to wash the viands down. There Chúgoro sat and feasted with the King and the Queen and the whole Royal Court, and, as they ate, from the kitchens came the small song of the servant mice, pounding rice for the New Year. As they pounded, they sang this strange little ditty:--
Ton, ton! Neko sai oraneba Nezumi no yo zakare. Ton, ton!
(When the cat’s away The mice will play!)
After the King saw that Chúgoro could eat no more, he led him to the treasure chamber, and filled his arms with gold and silver and fine lacquer work; enough to make him a rich man for life. Then he led him through the winding passage, and bade him good-by. When the old man was out in the fields again, he found that he was the same height that he had always been, and he hurried home to share the good news with Ino-yo San and Tamá.
With his riches he built himself a fine new house, and bought jewels and silk robes for his wife, and, as for Tamá, he rested at night on a downy cushion, and lived on everything nice that a cat could wish.
Now, a rich, miserly neighbor of Chúgoro’s, Gizæmon Muratani by name, seeing the gardener so rich and prosperous where he had always been in want before, called upon him, and begged to know what had brought him such wealth.