would take a longer time than I have to live.”

“Time shall be granted you,” said the king, “for I am curious to know why your great, great, great, great, great, twenty-seven times great grandmother Pinky-white was unhappy and why she was happy, and to know why your being her great, great, great, great, great, twenty-seven times great granddaughter should be a reason why you are unable to endure a speck of dirt.”"At your majesty’s request,” replied Pussyanita, “I will tell you the story of my great, great, great, great, great, twenty-seven times great grandmother Pinky-white, as she herself told it, when ordered to do so, at Lady Yellow-paw’s famous party.”

“Stop!” cried the king. “Why was your great, great, great, great, great, twenty-seven times great grandmother Pinky-white ordered to tell her story at Lady Yellow-paw’s famous party? Who was Lady Yellow-paw? Why was her party famous?”

“Please your majesty,” replied Pussyanita, “I shall be happy to explain to your majesty who was Lady Yellow-paw, and why her party was famous, and why my great, great, great, great, great, twenty-seven times great grandmother Pinky-white was ordered to tell her story at that party, but your majesty must perceive that to do all this will require much time.”

“Begin then!” cried the king. “Begin with your Lady Yellow-paw and her famous party, and then go on to your twenty-seven times great grandmother; and do not waste time waiting or waste words in the telling.”

The lovely Pussyanita bowed and began with Lady Yellow-paw and her famous party, and then went on to tell the story of Pinky-white as told by herself at that famous party.

“The first that I knew of myself, I found myself by the side of my mother, among some hay in a basket along with three other kittens of my own age and size. Two of our number were quickly stolen from us. It will thus be seen that I had scarcely begun to live before I began to be unhappy. As I grew older I became more and more unhappy, for the place was cold, the floor was hard, our mother cuffed us, and girl-Mary, who owned us, knew not the best way of stroking.

“One day when girl-Mary sat by our basket, girl-Jane came down there bringing her own cat and kittens. Girl-Jane had called to see us many times, and I had been pleased with the looks of her face, and the sounds of her voice, and the touches of her fingers; and she knew the best way of stroking. 

 Prev. P 3/65 next