Part 5

“Soon after this Mouseroun and Phi went to a great Battle of the Cats and were long absent. Upon their return they set forth as before to travel about the country, and again sought out the abode of Mistress Tabby Furpurr.

“As they journeyed on they were met by two lively young black-and-white cats, the same two they met before, Tweedledum and Tweedledee, called _Dum_ and _Dee_.

“They were full of frolic and good-nature, tumbling over each other, and snatching at each other’s tails.

“‘Whither so fast?’ asked Phi of them as they met.

“‘To catch some bugs for a cat with a large family of kittens,’ they said.

“You are not as sour as you were,” said Phi.

“‘Oh, no,’ said _Dum_ and _Dee_. ‘It is folly to be sour when sweet is better. We found that out.’

“‘You might have your pictures taken now,’ said Phi.

“‘We’re so happy we don’t care to,’ said _Dum_ and _Dee_. ‘Good day to you.’

“‘Beware of guns,’ said a faint voice near by.

“It was the faint voice of a feeble cat who had crept under a bush to die.

“‘We’re not afraid,’ said _Dum_ and _Dee_. ‘We have our nine lives, you know.’

“‘Go not quickly through them as I have done,’ said the feeble cat. ‘Beware of dogs, beware of stones, beware of guns, beware of shutting up, beware of boys, beware of drowning, beware of hot water, beware of stepping on, beware of wet blacking-brushes.’

“‘I have lived eight lives, and am now dying of a spot of blacking.’

“‘Tell us about the eight lives,’ said _Dum_ and _Dee_; and at a sign from Mouseroun, Phi made the same request.

“‘I will try,’ replied the feeble cat, ‘if you will bear with my weakness.’”

“My name is Pixie. I have lived my eight lives, speaking after the manner of cats, and am now in my ninth, which will soon end.

“When I was small and very young I was dropped in water. The water washed me back to the sand. I could not stir. I was kicked. People said ‘dead kitten.’ A great cat took me to a good place and licked me, and I opened my eyes. The great cat came many times. I should not have lived if she had not caught butterflies and grasshoppers for me. She got very good butterflies. Sometimes her spotted kitten came to see me, and sometimes she went to the fields with her mother to get butterflies and grasshoppers for me, and one day she brought me a very big grasshopper.

“When I could stand on all my feet the great cat carried me in her mouth to a house and a girl let me come in, and I was that girl’s kitten. She held me a great deal. Once when I was crawling on the floor, the boy walked across and he stepped on me so hard that I was all out flat, and they took me up on a shovel and carried me out to another room to stay till I could be buried. Next morning the girl came out there crying because her kitten was dead. The boy came with a shovel to bury me; but I was crawling on the hearth. The boy said, ‘Hurrah for Pixie!’ and the girl hugged me and kissed me.

“One day the boy took something off the stove, and tied the dog to it and told the girl to carry me to ride; and she put me in and tried to carry me to ride, but it was too warm, and I was scared of riding in it, and jumped out and ran with all my might through the house and up-stairs, and hid in a closet. The closet-door got shut and I stayed there. I had nothing to eat. I mewed all the time, but the people were far away. When I could not mew any longer I dropped down. There was nothing left of me but my skin and my bones. When the people found me they took me out-doors to bury me. They put me in the sunshine and in a little while I opened my eyes. I was close to the hens’ clams, and I ate some and crawled away from that place, and the boy carried me into the house, and I got well.

“Mornings I scratched on the girl’s door and when I was let in I jumped upon her bed and played with her nose and with her toes, and sat on her and purred loud.

“A white cat lived in that house. She was not my girl’s cat. She was the small girl’s cat. She could not purr. She had no voice to purr. The small girl put the white cat’s ear close to my mouth and said, ‘Purr like Pixie!’ and the boy rubbed her paws together, to make her purr, and squeezed her tail softly and stroked her, but she did not purr. She had no voice to purr.

“The white cat and I played together with the balls and the spools and the hammock strings and the knitting-work, and sometimes Pomp, the dog, played with us. The dog liked to play. When the small girl stayed in the hammock to sew her work and see picture books, the white cat used to stay in the hammock or close by, and take a nap; but the boy used to come and make her jump, and sometimes Pomp came there and jumped in the hammock.

“When the white cat grew older she had some kittens. I had not had any kittens. She was taken much notice of. The white cat lost all her kittens but one and as soon as that one could run she and her mother were sent away. Then the small girl held me and I was glad, for she spoke to me softly and touched me softly. She liked me because I could purr.

“One morning the white cat came back with her kitten. I saw her standing at the door to be let in, and I knew she ought not to come back, and I tried to drive her away, and we had a fight, and a cruel woman threw hot water at us from the kitchen, and it scalded my head and I went under some bushes to die. I could not see; I went by my smellers. When people found me they called me but I would not come out. They brought me some milk and a piece of meat, and I ate a little, and when I could see with both eyes I came out, but my neck has always been stiff on one side.

“The next time I almost got killed it was by a heavy stone. The stone fell on me. I liked to go in the garden and climb upon a high wall and see what was on the other side. A Molly girl lived on the other side, and a horse, and a dog, and two great cats, and hens, and there was a great deal there that was good to eat. The Molly girl wanted me to play in the sand with her and sometimes she took me down from the wall. She made holes in the sand and covered me up and when I was covered up I jumped out and ran and then came back. Sometimes she let me ride with her Jemima in her Jemima’s doll carriage.

“A woman came out every day to give corn to the hens, and things to the two great cats, and talk to the horses. I did not want the hen’s corn. I liked the things that were put into the two great cats’ plate, but the dog always wanted what was left. The two great cats had a plate of their own.

“Once when the two great cats were not there and that dog was not, the woman put something in the plate, and went away and I thought I would jump quick and get it, and I raced along the wall and got tangled in a vine, and jumped, and fell and pulled a great stone down on myself; on the back part of myself; and I could not stir, and when the boy found me and took the stone off, I was a good deal jammed, and I could not walk with the legs which belong to that part. People said I must be killed, but they waited, and I did not have to be killed. I walked with all my legs.

“When I grew bigger I used to go into the Molly girl’s house and the woman used to drive me away. She did not like me, for she saw me get into the hen-house at a place where it was broken, and saw egg-shells I left when I sucked the eggs. I could not eat egg-shells.

“One day I did something bad, though I did not know it was bad. I was in the Molly girl’s house. Her Jemima’s doll’s carriage was on a high place, but the strings hung over. The wind blew hard that day and I was very frisky and I jumped and pulled the doll carriage down by the strings and broke it, and dragged it about and played with it very long. When the Molly girl came there she cried. The people came and drove me out, and said very loud, ‘_Scat! scat!_’ A cruel boy that heard them _scatting_ me set his dog on me, and that dog chased me, but he would not have touched me if the cruel boy had not said, ‘Shake her!’ When he heard that he took me by the throat. Oh _Dum_ and _Dee_, may you never have anything so dreadful happen to you!

“The dog dropped me behind a tree and people found me and said I was dead. The girl I belonged to said I was alive, and they waited, and when they saw the end of my tail stir they put something on the sores the dog made, and the grandma woman took care of me, and I got well. But I would rather have died than to have that cruel boy do so again. Only a cat can know what a cat can suffer from cruel boys. Dogs would not hurt us if people and cruel boys did not tell them to.

“One day I had some kittens of my own. We were in a good closet close by my own girl’s bed. Oh I was proud of my pretty little dears! I wanted people to come and see them. But when people came they said, ‘Why! why! why! The cat has kittens in the closet! Take the cat and kittens away from that closet!’

“They carried us up to the garret and put us in a box. I would not stay there. I took my kittens one at a time and carried them in my mouth back to the closet. We were put up in the box again and the garret door was kept shut. I got out of the window and carried my kittens down by tree branches, and got in by another window, and soon they found us in the closet. Then the boy put some of my kittens in his hat and another boy took some and they carried them to the barn, and I went there too; but I would not stay there. I knew what the best place was, the best place was the closet.

“When it was dark I carried my kittens back to the closet. Then they carried us down cellar, and kept the door shut. I found a hole and made it bigger, and squeezed through that hole with my kittens and went back to the closet. They put us down cellar again and stopped up the hole, and kept the door shut.

“One day soon as the door was opened I slipped quick between somebody’s feet, and went up-stairs to the grandma woman’s room, and sat by the fire. The grandma woman looked at me hard and said, ‘Poor Pixie! It is too cold for your kittens down cellar; go bring them here.’

“I knew what she said and answered her in my mew language, and went and got my kittens and she made a bed for us in a basket that had room in it.

“When my kittens were big enough to crawl I went away and left them sometimes, and if they cried for my going I punished them. When they were good I let them play with my tail; but I always kept one paw ready to punish them if they bit me, or bit each other. I took great comfort with my dear kittens. They understood everything I said to them. One was taken from me, but I tried to be contented with what were left.

“They soon grew big enough to follow me all over the house, and I took them to many places. One room was always shut. I did not like that. No cat likes to have a door kept shut.

“One day a woman went in that room and worked and moved the things; and she went away and left the door not shut tight, and I pushed in with my kittens, and they had a happy time. They raced and scampered as if they were crazy kittens, for there was a high wind blowing that day. I tried to keep them out of the bed-curtains, but they would go there. They all got on the bed and raced over the pillows where it was not right for kittens or even cats to go, and they bit the fringes, and jumped up and clawed the tassels and some of the tassels were so good that I clawed them myself. Almost any cat will claw a good tassel hanging down in a windy day. The kittens rolled over each other too near the edge of the bed and rolled off, and hopped up and went scampering round the room pulling all the things they wanted to. They went up on high places and tipped things over, and pulled things down, and got into the drawers, and Pomp heard them, and he came in there and jumped about and pulled things out of the drawers, and gnawed things, and played with my kittens. They would not mind me, and all I could do was to sit in a chair and watch them.

“I thought I heard a mouse in a closet, and went in there to see; and while I was in there somebody drove out my kittens and Pomp. I stayed to see about the mouse, and I ate something bad in that closet. It had been put there for the mice.

“What I ate in that closet made me sick and I was very sick. They gave me medicine. They held my mouth open and put the medicine down my throat with a spoon. I did not like it. I would not take any more. I went away in dark places. Sometimes I crawled into the house, and then they tried to make me eat. They could not make me eat. I grew weaker and weaker, and one day they said I was dead. The boy said, ‘That cat is not dead. That is one of the cats that will live all her nine lives.’

“I was not dead, or if I was dead I came to life again.

“When I came to life again two of my kittens were playing by my side. Only two. The others were gone. Very soon even these two were taken from me. Not one of them ever came back. Kittens that have been taken away do not come back.

“Now that I had no kittens to need me at home, I was free to go out and meet my friends on fences and the shed-roofs. I went often, and enjoyed my fights with them very much.

“One day when it was cold weather I went to a swamp to watch a rat’s nest. Another cat had been watching for that rat, but I meant to get it myself. I ran all the way, and when I got there I saw the rat on the tree holding on by his tail and eating what he could find, and I went up, but the rat slipped down the other side and went to his nest.

“I had better have kept away from that tree. By going up that tree I got shot. Two boys saw me, and one shot me. I dropped to the ground. The boys came and kicked me. I was almost dead. The shots stayed in me and they are in me now. I could crawl a little, but I was very weak.

“While I stayed there, crawling a little when I could, a cat came out from the swamp and ran at me. She was one of my own kittens grown up into a cat. She had been dropped in the woods, and she was a wild cat. She flew at me and she would have damaged me very much if a dog had not barked and scared her away. The dog did not touch me. He took me out of a muddy ditch. I was crawling, and did not know I was close to the muddy ditch, and fell into it and went deep in the mud and water. The dog jumped in and pulled me out. He carried me to a house and dropped me on the doorstep. The boy came from my house to see me. The people said I was dead. The boy said, ‘No, she will come to life. She is a cat that will live all her nine lives.’ And I did come to life. The boy carried me home, and the grandma woman washed me and fed me with milk, and put me in a good bed, and I was soon well enough to take a little squash with my milk.

“The grandma woman used to hold me, and speak softly to me, and if I jumped on her shoulder she never pushed me off and said ‘scat!’ If I jumped up there when she was eating breakfast she let me stay, and let me taste of her breakfast.

“I wanted to thank the grandma woman, and so one day I brought her a little fish I caught in the pond. I stood on a stone in the pond and looked down close to the water, and when a fish saw my eyes shine sometimes it would jump up, and if I put my paw out quick I could catch the fish. The grandma woman was pleased when I brought the fish, and she wanted to sing to me. I did not like to hear anybody sing. When anybody began to sing I got up and walked all around the room, and scratched at the doors, and I could not keep still. Sometimes the grandma woman sang when I was asleep; but I opened my eyes and began to walk. Sometimes I jumped up and put my paw on her mouth.

“One day the white cat and myself got carried off in a bag. It was going to rain, and we were washing our faces a great deal. A bad boy called us out, and we stopped washing our faces and went out, and he put us in a bag. There were very many cats in the bag. The boy carried us to a place far away and put more cats in the bag, then he carried us to another place and put more cats in, and then he carried us all very far to a strange place and let us all out of the bag in a room and shut the doors and windows tight.

“One of the windows was broken a little and a great cat pushed the glass out, and we all went through, and set off for our own homes in the rain, but I went in a barn and hid till the rain stopped. It took me very long to go home.

“As I passed by a house on my way home, a man in that house was making a noise on a fiddle, and I ran and jumped up on his shoulder, because he was making the noise, and he pushed me off, and I ran, and he threw a wet blacking brush at me, and made a spot on my fur.

“I came home and tried to lick off the spot, but I could not reach it. It is far off and my neck is stiff. Not any cat would lick it off for me. I smelt it all the time and felt it, and it worried me. I could not eat. I grew weak and sick. Sometimes I crawled to the basin and lapped one or two laps of milk, but no more. I did not catch. Mice came near, and I did not even stir the end of my tail. I kept in dark places. I have but little strength left, and with that I am now crawling to the woods to die. Farewell. Beware of guns, beware of dogs, beware of stones, beware of stepping on, beware of shutting up, beware of hot water, beware of drowning, beware of cruel boys, beware of wet blacking brushes. Farewell. You will never see me more.

“Pixie then crawled to the woods where she was afterwards found dead; so dead that she never came back to life.

“_Dum_ and _Dee_, and Mouseroun and Phi, his Wisdom Cat, watched Pixie until she had crawled out of sight. _Dum_ and _Dee_ then frisked away to catch bugs for the puss with the large family of kittens, and Mouseroun and Phi journeyed on to seek the renowned Mistress Tabby Furpurr, who found out a way of not liking birds, and on that account had her picture taken and set in a pussy-willow frame, and who had promised to tell the way to Mouseroun and Phi.

“They did not find her. The renowned Mistress Tabby Furpurr had long lain buried beneath the lilac bush, having died of old age, and alas! without revealing the way she found out of not liking birds!”

* * * * *

“Which was a pity,” said the lovely Pussyanita to King Grimalkum as she finished the story, “since now our race must be blamed for liking birds when they cannot help liking them. Blamed, dropped, shot, drowned, stoned—not many of us would be living had we not our nine lives, though not many cats have done to them what was spoken of in the story the cat that hadn’t common sense told at Lady Yellow-paw’s famous party.”

“What story was that?” asked King Grimalkum quickly.

“Nothing your majesty will care to hear,” answered Pussyanita. “It is not a common sense story.”

“I say I do want to hear it,” cried King Grimalkum. “I don’t want any more common sense stories. I’m tired of common sense. I insist upon knowing what was spoken of in the story the cat that hadn’t common sense told at Lady Yellow-paw’s famous party.”

“Your majesty must understand,” said Pussyanita, “that probably it never really—”

“I don’t care a mouse-ear for your _never reallys_,” interrupted King Grimalkum. “I want the story.”

“Your majesty’s wish shall be obeyed,” replied Pussyanita, “but your majesty will perceive at the beginning that it is not a common sense story.”

“Make no more words about it!” furiously cried the king, “if you do I’ll—”

The lovely Pussyanita made no more words about it, but hastened to begin The Story of the Two Charcoals and the Four Spekkums.

“There was once a cat who had six kittens of exactly the same size, two very dark ones and four very light ones, and as she could not think of names for so many and as it was an important matter, she spoke to their uncle Thomas about it. Their uncle Thomas said it was an important matter, and sent her to ask the wise and aged Goody Gumbo. Goody Gumbo had seen much and heard much, for she had been alive ever since the days when willow trees bore real pussys and some said she was picked off a willow tree herself.

“Goody Gumbo named the two dark kittens Charcoal, and the four light ones Spekkum, and they were afterwards spoken of as the Charcoals and Spekkums.

“When the Charcoals and the Spekkums had grown old enough to run out-doors, it was seen that one of the Spekkums was much too frisky, and that they all were likely to be.

“Their mother spoke to their uncle Thomas about it and he said, ‘send three of them to school to learn to behave and they can teach the other three.

“‘Send three of the Spekkums and let Frisky Spekkum be one of the three. I will see the schoolma’am.’

“The schoolma’am said that she would teach three of the Spekkums to behave if they would go to the school well dusted in meal bag powder, as she herself always did. Their mother said she would attend to that and three of the Spekkums were sent to school and Frisky Spekkum was one of the three.

“The schoolma’am took them by themselves and talked to them seriously. She then placed them in a row and said: ‘Rule first! Sit straight; tails down; noses up; ears flat; paws hanging!’

“They did so, but Frisky Spekkum did not sit as straight as the others.

“‘Rule second! All stand. Ears up; tails up!’

“They did so, but Frisky Spekkum sat down before she was told to. ‘If you can’t mind,’ said the schoolma’am, ‘I’ll have no more to do with you,’ and turned away with a scowl.

“‘O, do have something to do with me!’ cried Frisky Spekkum, and stood quickly on her feet.

“‘I will if you will be good,’ said the schoolma’am, and turned back with a smile, and went on with the rules. ‘Rule third! Sit straight; ears up; noses down; paws up!’

“They did so, though Frisky Spekkum would not hold her paws as high as the others; and she frisked and caused the others to frisk.

“‘When you have learned to make your bows and say good afternoon properly you may go home,’ the schoolma’am said. They all made their bows and said good afternoon properly, for all were anxious to go home, and Frisky Spekkum did better than the others, for she was more anxious to go home.

“‘Now go,’ said the schoolma’am, ‘you are a troublesome set and I am glad to be done with you. Scamper home.’ And they scampered home.

“On their way home they saw a young rat walking out with his parents, and went behind a wall and peeped through. They wanted the young rat but did not like to touch him when his parents were with him. The young rat was telling his parents of a beautiful shiny box with beautiful cheese in it. His father said ‘My child, go not near that beautiful shiny box nor touch that beautiful cheese.’

“The young rat did go to that beautiful shiny box and touch that beautiful cheese and came near losing his life, as my story will soon tell.