Paws and Whiskers (15 page)

‘O my Enemy and Wife of my Enemy and Mother of my Enemy,’ said the Cat, ‘is that little mouse part of your Magic?’

‘Ouh! Chee! No indeed!’ said the Woman, and she dropped the blade-bone and jumped upon the footstool in front of the fire and braided up her hair very quick for fear that the mouse should run up it.

‘Ah,’ said the Cat, watching, ‘then the mouse will do me no harm if I eat it?’

‘No,’ said the Woman, braiding up her hair, ‘eat it quickly and I will ever be grateful to you.’

Cat made one jump and caught the little mouse, and the Woman said, ‘A hundred thanks. Even the First Friend is not quick enough to catch little mice as you have done. You must be very wise.’

That very moment and second, O Best Beloved, the Milk-pot that stood by the fire cracked in two pieces –
ffft!
– because it remembered the bargain she had made with the Cat; and when the Woman jumped down from the footstool – lo and behold! – the Cat was lapping up the warm white milk that lay in one of the broken pieces.

‘O my Enemy and Wife of my Enemy and Mother of my Enemy,’ said the Cat, ‘it is I: for you have spoken three words in my praise, and now I can drink the warm white milk three times a day for always and always and always. But
still
I am the Cat who walks by himself, and all places are alike to me.’

Then the Woman laughed and set the Cat a bowl of the warm white milk and said, ‘O Cat, you are as clever as a Man, but remember that your bargain was not made with the Man or the Dog, and I do not know what they will do when they come home.’

‘What is that to me?’ said the Cat. ‘If I have my place in the Cave by the fire and my warm white milk three times a day I do not care what the Man or the Dog can do.’

That evening when the Man and the Dog came into the Cave, the Woman told them all the story of the bargain, while the Cat sat by the fire and smiled. Then the Man said, ‘Yes, but he has not made a
bargain, with
me
or with all proper Men after me.’ Then he took off his two leather boots and he took up his little stone axe (that makes three) and he fetched a piece of wood and a hatchet (that is five altogether), and he set them out in a row and he said, ‘Now we will make
our
bargain. If you do not catch mice when you are in the Cave for always and always and always, I will throw these five things at you whenever I see you, and so shall all proper Men do after me.’

‘Ah,’ said the Woman, listening, ‘this is a very clever Cat, but he is not so clever as my Man.’

The Cat counted the five things (and they looked very knobby) and he said, ‘I will catch mice when I am in the Cave for always and always and always; but
still
I am the Cat who walks by himself, and all places are alike to me.’

‘Not when I am near,’ said the Man. ‘If you had not said that last I would have put all these things away for always and always and always; but now I am going to throw my two boots and my little stone axe (that makes three) at you whenever I meet you. And so shall all proper Men do after me!’

Then the Dog said, ‘Wait a minute. He has not made a bargain with
me
or with all proper Dogs after me.’ And he showed his teeth and said, ‘If you are not kind to the Baby while I am in the Cave for always
and always and always, I will hunt you till I catch you, and when I catch you I will bite you. And so shall all proper Dogs do after me.’

‘Ah,’ said the Woman, listening, ‘this is a very clever Cat, but he is not so clever as the Dog.’

Cat counted the Dog’s teeth (and they looked very pointed) and he said, ‘I will be kind to the Baby while I am in the Cave, as long as he does not pull my tail too hard, for always and always and always. But
still
I am the Cat that walks by himself, and all places are alike to me!’

‘Not when I am near,’ said the Dog. ‘If you had not said that last I would have shut my mouth for always and always and always; but
now
I am going to hunt you up a tree whenever I meet you. And so shall all proper Dogs do after me.’

Then the man threw his two boots and his little stone axe (that makes three) at the Cat, and the Cat ran out of the Cave and the Dog chased him up a tree; and from that day to this, Best Beloved, three proper Men out of five will always throw things at a Cat whenever they meet him, and all proper Dogs will chase him up a tree. But the Cat keeps his side of the bargain too. He will kill mice, and he will be kind to Babies when he is in the house, just as long as they
do not pull his tail too hard. But when he has done that, and between times, and when the moon gets up and night comes, he is the Cat that walks by himself, and all places are alike to him. Then he goes out to the Wet Wild Woods or up the Wet Wild Trees or on the Wet Wild Roofs, waving his wild tail and walking by his wild lone.

Do you or any of your friends have a ginger tom cat? He might very well be called Orlando, after the most famous cat in children’s literature, Orlando the Marmalade Cat. They are gorgeous, sophisticated books that you can devour when you’re long past the picture-book stage. I love them all, but I have an especial spot for
Orlando’s Invisible Pyjamas.
It’s such a tender book. I adore the passage where Orlando’s wife Grace says she will knit him a pair of pyjama trousers that will match his fur exactly because ‘I know your stripes by heart.’

Until I reread the book today I’d completely forgotten that Orlando’s former girlfriend was a glamorous cat
called Queenie. In my book
Queenie,
that fluffy white Queenie cat has a litter of four kittens at the end of the story. One is ginger, and two are ginger and white, so it’s clear she has a ginger admirer. I wonder if it was Orlando . . .

ORLANDO’S INVISIBLE PYJAMAS

Orlando breathed a hole in the frost pattern on the window and watched the thick snow falling softly. It was evening; the three kittens were in bed and his dear wife Grace was knitting cat-traps to protect the robins she loved so much.

‘They are such sweet little birds I feel I could eat them,’ she said, ‘but if I hang these nets round the tree trunks, we can’t climb up to catch them.’

A faint glow of light shone through the swirling snowflakes; it shone from the night-watchman’s lantern on the road.

‘He must be lonely sitting out there all night, guarding that big hole the roadmenders are making bigger,’ thought Orlando. ‘I’ll go and have a chat with him and take him a mouse for his supper.’

He took one from the larder and crept past the sleeping kittens. Tinkle, the black one, opened one eye and said, ‘Hello, Farver, you’ve grown a Moustache!’

Orlando winked at him and set out on his journey through the snow. To a cat, snow-flakes seemed as large as snowballs; sometimes Orlando disappeared into a drift that would only have reached a little girl’s knee.

Orlando plodded on till he found Mr Pusey, the night-watchman; the old man was frying his supper.

‘Good evening,’ said Orlando.

‘Oo,’ replied Mr Pusey, ‘Oi be glad to zee you this murksome night! Oi thought as all folks in the world had been bewitched into snow-flakes – not a soul to be seen, and Oi wondering when the spell would be cast on me.’

‘Well,’ said Orlando, ‘here’s a fine mouse for your supper.’ He jumped on to a paraffin can the better to pop it into Mr Pusey’s frying pan.

‘Oo! Oi wouldn’t deprive ye!’ the old man said hastily. ‘You have it, me boy!’ He picked the mouse out of the pan quickly. The can tipped over and Orlando
fell off; his hind legs and tail were drenched with paraffin.

It smelt nasty and burnt him. He plunged into the cold snow and rolled, but that did no good. He dashed home to Grace.

Grace tried so hard with the kittens’ help to wash her dear husband clean, but the paraffin nearly suffocated her and burnt her poor tongue terribly.

At dawn, after a restless night, Orlando crept out of the house feeling uncomfortable and miserable.

All day Grace waited for him to return. By tea time she was frantic.

‘Oh my beloved husband!’ she cried. ‘What has happened to you?’

The kittens helped her to search the house and then the garden. Snow had covered Orlando’s footprints and it was bitterly cold. The kittens wore their muffs.

Not a bird dared open its beak for fear of a frozen tongue.

Blanche, the white kitten, set out across the white lawn; Pansy, the tortoiseshell one, climbed up the black and white trees for a better view, while Tinkle pushed his way into the pampas grass. Grace called loudly for Orlando, her voice rang out clearly in the silence.

Suddenly Tinkle found the tip of a pink snake. Very cautiously he patted it. It twitched but did him no harm; he sniffed along it until he came to – Orlando sitting on the other end! The snake was Orlando’s tail!

Poor Orlando, he was quite bald from his waist to the tip of his tail; the paraffin had taken off all his fur.

He hissed at Tinkle and crept further into the frosty bushes. Tinkle was frightened and called his mother.

Orlando told them he was sorry for being cross with Tinkle, but they must leave him, for he could not bear to be seen like this.