Storytelling. The cat that walked by himself and other stories

The Queen was very much surprised. “This girl of yours must be a very fine spinner,” she said. “You must bring her to the palace, for there is nothing I love better than spinning. Bring her to-morrow, and if she is as wonderful a spinner as I suspect, she shall be to me as my own daughter, and shall have my eldest son as a husband.”

When the girl heard she was to go to the palace and spin she was terrified. She had never spun a thread in her life, and she feared that when the Queen found this out she would be angry and would have her punished. However, she dared say nothing.

The next day she and her mother went to the palace, and the Queen received them kindly. The mother was sent home again, but the daughter was taken to a tower where there were three great rooms all filled with flax.

“See,” said the Queen. “Here is enough flax to satisfy you for awhile at least. When you have spun this you shall marry my son, and after that you shall have all the flax you want. Now you may begin, and to-morrow I will come to see how much you have done.”

So saying the Queen went away, closing the door behind her.

No sooner was the girl alone than she burst into tears. Not if she lived a hundred years could she spin all that flax. She sat and cried and cried and cried.

The next morning the Queen came back to see how much she had done. She was very much surprised to find the flax untouched, and the girl sitting there with idle hands.

“How is this?” she asked. “Why are you not at your spinning?”

The girl began to make excuses.

“I was so sad at being parted from my mother that I could do nothing but sit and weep.”

“I see you have a tender heart,” said the Queen. “But to-morrow you must begin to work. When I come again, I shall expect to see a whole roomful done.”

After she had gone, the girl began to weep again. She did not know what was to become of her.

Suddenly the door opened, and three ugly old women slipped into the room. The first had a splayfoot. The second had a lip that hung down on her chin. The third had a hideous broad thumb.

The girl looked at them with fear and wonder. “Who are you?” she asked.

The one with the splayfoot answered. “We are three spinners. We know why you are weeping, and we have come to help you, but before we help you, you must promise us one thing: that is that when you are married to the Prince, we may come to your wedding feast, that you will let us sit at your table, and that you will call us your aunts.”

“Yes, yes; I will, I will,” cried the girl. She was ready to promise anything if they would only help her.

At once the splayfoot sat down at the wheel and began to spin and tread. She with the hanging lip moistened the thread, and the woman with the broad thumb pressed and twisted it. They worked so fast that the thread flowed on like a swift stream. Before the next evening, they had finished the whole roomful of flax.

When the Queen came again she was delighted to find so much done. “To-morrow,” said she, “you shall begin in the second room.”

The next day the girl was taken into the second room, and it was larger than the first and was also full of flax.

Scarcely had the Queen left her when the door was pushed open, and the three old women came into the room.

“Remember your promise,” said they.

“I remember,” answered the girl.

The old women then took their places and began to spin. Before the next evening, they had finished all the flax that was in the room.

When the Queen came to look at what had been done, she was filled with wonder. Not only had all the flax in the room been spun, but she had never seen such smooth and even threads.

“To-morrow,” said she, “you shall spin the flax that is in the third room, and the day after you shall be married to my son.”

The third day all happened just as it had before. The girl was taken to the third room and it was even larger than the others. Scarcely had she been left alone when the three old women opened the door and came in.

“Remember your promise,” said they.

“I will remember,” answered the girl.

The old women took their places, and before night all the flax was spun. Then they rose. “To-morrow will be your wedding day, and we will be at the feast. If you keep your word to us, all will go well with you, but if you forget it, misfortune will surely come upon you.” Then they disappeared through the door as they had come, the eldest first.

When the Queen came that evening she was even more delighted than before. Never had she seen such thread, so smooth it was and even.

The girl was led down from the tower and dressed in silks and velvets and jewels, and when thus dressed she was so beautiful that the Prince was filled with love and joy at the sight of her. The next day they were married, and a grand feast was spread. To this feast all the noblest in the land were invited.

The bride sat beside her husband, and he could look at no one else, she was so beautiful.

Just as the feast was about to begin the door opened and the three old women who had spun the flax came in.

The Prince looked at them wonderingly. Never had he seen such hideous, ugly creatures before. “Who are these?” he asked of the girl.

“These,” said she, “are my three old aunts, and I have promised they shall sit at the table with us, for they have been so kind to me that no one could be kinder.”

The girl then rose, and went to meet the old women. “Welcome, my aunts,” she said, and led them to the table. The Prince loved the girl so dearly that all she did seemed right to him. He commanded that places should be put for the old women, and they sat at the table with him and his bride.

They were so hideous, however, that the Prince could not keep his eyes off them. At length he said to the eldest, “Forgive me, good mother, but why is your foot so broad?”

“From treading the thread, my son, from treading the thread,” she answered.

The Prince wondered; he turned to the second old woman. “And you, good mother,” he said, “why does your lip hang down?”

“From wetting the thread,” she answered. “From wetting the thread.”

The Prince was frightened. He spoke to the third old woman. “And you, why is your thumb so broad, if I may ask it?”

“From pressing and twisting,” she answered. “From pressing and twisting.”

The Prince turned pale. “If this is what comes of spinning,” said he, “never shall my bride touch the flax again.”

And so it was. Never was the girl allowed even to look at a spinning wheel again; and that did not trouble her, as you may guess.

As for the old women, they disappeared as soon as the feast was over, and no one saw them again, but the bride lived happy forever after.

The Cat that walked by himself

by Joseph Rudyard Kipling

HEAR and attend and listen; for this befell and behappened and became and was, o my Best Beloved, when the Tame animals were wild. The Dog was wild, and the Horse was wild, and the Cow was wild, and the Sheep was wild, and the Pig was wild – as wild as wild could be – and they walked in the Wet Wild Woods by their wild lones. But the wildest of all the wild animals was the Cat. He walked by himself, and all places were alike to him.

Of course, the Man was wild too. He was dreadfully wild. He didn’t even begin to be tame till he met the Woman, and she told him that she did not like living in his wild ways. She picked out a nice dry Cave, instead of a heap of wet leaves, to lie down in; and she strewed clean sand on the floor; and she lit a nice fire of wood at the back of the Cave; and she hung a dried wild-horse skin, tail-down, across the opening of the Cave; and she said, ‘‘Wipe you feet, dear, when you come in, and now we’ll keep house.’’

That night, Best Beloved, they ate wild sheep roasted on the hot stones, and flavoured with wild garlic and wild pepper; and wild duck stuffed with wild rice and wild fenugreek and wild coriander; and marrow-bones of wild oxen; and wild cherries, and wild grenadillas. Then the Man went to sleep in front of the fire ever so happy; but the Woman sat up, combing her hair. She took the bone of the shoulder of mutton – the big fat blade-bone – and she looked at the wonderful marks on it, and she threw more wood on the fire, and she made a Magic. She made the First Singing Magic in the world.