The Ninth Night
Dolly was sitting up in bed when Impty came purring in the next evening. She looked very happy, and she called out gayly to the black kitten: “Oh, Impty! Mother is coming home to-morrow! Miss Jane told me so when she was undressing me.”
“I know,” answered Impty, curling up comfortably. “The cook was talking about it to Eliza when I was eating my supper in the kitchen. Yes, this is our last night together, and because it’s the very last time I shall ever talk to you, I’m going to tell you the finest cat-tale in the whole world. It’s ‘Puss-In-Boots.’”
Once upon a time, long, long ago, in a little country village, there lived a miller and his three sons. He was poor, but he had been able to bring them up respectably, and let them live well enough; though, when he died, his sons found that all he had left them was his mill, his donkey, and his cat.
The oldest son took the mill, the second the donkey, and for the youngest there was left only the pet cat. He was sad indeed when he thought of his inheritance. “What shall I live on now?” he asked himself. “My brothers can go into partnership, and so always earn their living; but when I have eaten my cat, and made myself a muff out of his fur, all that will be left for me is beggary.”
While he was thus thinking aloud, the cat came and rubbed up against his legs, purring, and then, to his great surprise, spoke.
“Master,” said Puss, “you haven’t fared so badly as you seem to think. Just have a pair of boots made for me, and get me a sack, and you’ll see fine things!”
The young man hardly knew whether to believe he was awake or asleep. He had never even heard of a cat talking before, but he remembered how clever Puss had always been about catching mice and rats, hiding in the grain and playing dead; and he thought it would do no harm to try what luck his cat would bring him.
So a fine pair of high, yellow leather boots was made for the cat, and when Puss had slipped them on, and slung the sack over his shoulder, his master began to have faith in his good-fortune at once.
The cat hurried straight to the warren, where hundreds of rabbits were nibbling grass and clover leaves, and lying down, he opened his sack wide and scattered bran at its mouth. Soon, a silly little rabbit, who knew nothing of tricks and traps, came and entered the sack the better to eat the bran. Quick as a flash Puss drew the strings and killed him without mercy.
Very proud of his prey, he went to the palace of the King, where all the court wondered at seeing a booted cat who could talk. He was shown at once into the throne room, and there, after he had made a low bow, he laid the rabbit at the King’s feet, saying, “Here, Sire, is a present from my master, the Marquis of Carabas,” for so he had chosen to call the miller’s son. The King was very much pleased. “Thank the Marquis, my good fellow,” he said, “for sending me such fine game, and here’s a piece of gold for you.”
Soon after, Puss caught a brace of partridges, and these, too, he carried to the palace. The King was as gracious as before; again he thanked the Marquis, and gave the cat a handsome present. So things went on; from time to time Puss carried game to the King, who always showed him the greatest favor. At last, one day, when the cat had learned that the King and his daughter, the loveliest princess in the whole world, were to drive through their village that afternoon, he ran to his master, and cried: “Quick! Quick! Do as I tell you, and your fortune is made forever. Take off your clothes, jump into the river, and leave the rest to me.” So saying, he took the young man’s workaday clothes and hid them under a large rock. Then, as he heard the rumble of chariot wheels on the high road, he began to cry at the top of his voice: “Help! Help! My master, the Marquis of Carabas, is drowning!”
The King, hearing these shouts, popped his head out of the coach window, and seeing the cat who had so many times brought him presents of game, he commanded his guards to go to the rescue of the Marquis.
“Alas, your Majesty!” cried Puss, “my master’s clothes have been stolen. While he was bathing, robbers came and carried them away, and although I cried, ‘Stop, thief! Stop, thief!’ I could not prevent them from doing this wicked deed. And now he cannot appear before your Majesty.”
“I will send the groom of my wardrobe for one of my finest suits,” said the King; and when the suit was brought, and the Marquis of Carabas had put it on, every one marvelled to see how handsome he was. The King invited him to get into the coach and drive with them, and, as for his daughter, the pretty Princess, she fell head over heels in love with him.
All this time Puss had been busy, too. He ran quickly ahead of the coach, and, stopping at a fine field, he cried aloud to the peasants who were mowing it: “Good people! If you do not tell the King, when he rides by, that this field belongs to the Marquis of Carabas, I will chop you into mince-meat!”
The peasants were very much frightened at this threat, and, when the King passed by, and asked them who owned the field, they cried with one voice, “It belongs to the Marquis of Carabas.”
Puss, who was keeping ahead of the coach, had already come to the next field, a rich meadow which the laborers were reaping. “Good people,” he said to them, “when the King rides by, if you do not tell him that this meadow belongs to the Marquis of Carabas, I will make mince-meat of you!”
Terrified, the peasants promised, and when the King asked them whose meadow they were reaping, they answered as one man, “Sire, it belongs to the Marquis of Carabas.”
“You have some very fine property, Marquis,” said the King, pleased to find the young man as wealthy as he was handsome. And the Marquis seemed to grow richer, for Puss had stopped at each field, and the peasants declared that all the land there-abouts belonged to the Marquis of Carabas.
At last Puss stopped before the drawbridge of a mighty castle owned by the richest and most powerful ogre in the whole country-side. The cat begged that the warder would announce him to the Ogre as one who had heard so much of his magnificence that he could not pass by without seeing it. The Ogre, who was very vain, was pleased by this compliment, and received Puss with the greatest kindness. After a while, the cat said: “They tell me that you can change yourself into any shape you please; that, in a moment, you can become a lion or a tiger, or any tremendous thing you wish to be.”
“So I can,” said the Ogre, “and just to show you, I’ll turn into a lion.” In the wink of an eye there he was, roaring away, and poor Puss was so frightened that he ran up to the top of the house, slipping at each step, for his fine, shiny boots were never made to climb roofs.
“Come down,” cried the Ogre, changing back into his real shape. “I won’t hurt you! Come down!”
Very much scared, Puss clambered down, and, as soon as his voice came back to him, he said, “They say, too,—but this I cannot believe,—that you can take the shape of the tiniest animal, a mouse, for instance.”
“Of course I can,” said the Ogre, proudly. “Just watch me.” He at once became a little mouse scampering over the floor, and Puss, like a flash, sprang on him and ate him up!
By this time the coach had drawn up to the gate-ways of the castle, and Puss, seeing it stop, ran to throw open the doors, crying: “Welcome, your Majesty! Welcome to the castle of the Marquis of Carabas!”
“Is this yours also, my dear Marquis,” cried the King. “What splendid battlements, and what a noble gate-way! Come, let us enter, and see if the interior is as fine, too.”
As he spoke, he walked into the castle, and the Marquis gave his hand to the pretty Princess, and led her in.
Puss flung wide the doors of the banqueting-hall and showed a long table covered with a fine repast, for the Ogre had invited friends to dinner that day, and this feast was prepared for them.
The King, the Marquis, and the pretty Princess ate it in their stead; and at the close his Majesty said, in great good humor, to the young man, “It all depends upon you, Marquis, whether or not you’re my son-in-law.”
The Marquis, who was in love with the Princess quite as much as she was with him, gladly consented, and that very evening the wedding was celebrated.
So the poor miller’s son became the heir of a mighty king, and, as for Puss, who had brought him all this good-fortune, he became a great lord, and caught rats and mice only for his own amusement.
The last Kitty-Cat Tale was finished.
“Now, good-by, little Mistress; go to sleep,” purred Impty, as he rubbed up against Dolly’s arm. “I can never, never talk to you again this way, for once, only, does our King permit a cat to talk to a mortal. But, sometimes, when you are petting me, please remember the stories I used to tell you. Now, I’m going to curl up on your pillow, just because it’s the last time. How surprised Miss Jane will be when she sees me to-morrow morning! But it won’t make any difference, for we’ve had our nights, nine of them just like a cat’s lives; and I don’t mind if she shuts me out now. Good-by! I’m going to Cat-Land again. They’re having a wedding there to-night.”
“Couldn’t I really ever go to Cat-Land? If you were king, couldn’t I?” begged Dolly, wistfully. “I’d truly be good, truly, Impty. And how would I get there?”
“Why,” the black kitten answered, “Cat-Land lies East of the Sun and West of the Moon, and the road runs all along the edge of Wonder-World. But it doesn’t take me any time to go because I’m one of the Royal Family. I just close my eyes, and whisk my tail nine times, and I’m there. But I promise, by the whiskers and ears of his Majesty, the King of the Cats, that I’ll take you there if ever I get the chance.” He held out his paw solemnly, and Dolly shook it just as gravely. “Now, mind! It’s a bargain,” he said, snuggling down beside her.
“All right! Good-by!” answered the little girl, sleepily, and when the moon looked in soon after, Impty was off in his dreams to Cat-Land, and Dolly had gone to the Land of Nod.
By Amy Brooks
Dorothy Dainty
Dorothy’s Playmates
Dorothy Dainty at School
Dorothy Dainty at the Shore
Dorothy Dainty in the City
Dorothy Dainty at Home
“Little Dorothy Dainty is one of the most generous-hearted of children. Selfishness is not at all a trait of hers, and she knows the value of making sunshine, not alone in her own heart, but for her neighborhood and friends.”
—Boston Courier.
“Dorothy Dainty, a little girl, the only child of wealthy parents, is an exceedingly interesting character, and her earnest and interesting life is full of action and suitable adventure.”
—Pittsburg Christian Advocate.
“No finer little lady than Dorothy Dainty was ever placed in a book for children.”—Teachers’ Journal, Pittsburg.
“Miss Brooks is a popular writer for the very little folks who can read. She has an immense sympathy for the children, and her stories never fail to be amusing.”—Rochester (N. Y.) Herald.
Little Betty Blew
Her Strange Experiences and Adventures in Indian Land — By Annie M. Barnes
One of the very best books with which to satisfy a young reader’s natural desire for an “Indian story” is this one of little Betty Blew and what she saw and experienced when her family removed from Dorchester, Mass., two hundred years ago, to their home on the Ashley River above Charleston, South Carolina. Although Betty is but a small maid she is so wise and true that she charms all, and there are a number of characters who will interest boys as well as girls, and old as well as young.
There are many Indians who figure most importantly in many exciting scenes, but the book, though a splendid “Indian story,” is far more than that. It is an unusually entertaining tale of the making of a portion of our country, with plenty of information as well as incident to commend it, and the account of a delightful family life in the brave old times. It is good to notice that this story is to be the first of a colonial series, which will surely be a favorite with children and their parents. Mr. Merrill’s illustrations are of unusual excellence, even for that gifted artist, and the binding is rich and beautiful.
For sale by all booksellers, or sent prepaid on receipt of price by the publishers
Lothrop, Lee & Shepard Co., Boston
Only Dollie
This is a brightly written story of a girl of twelve, who, when the mystery of her birth is solved, like Cinderella, passes from drudgery to better circumstances. There is nothing strained or unnatural at any point. All descriptions or portrayals of character are life-like, and the book has an indescribable appealing quality which wins sympathy and secures success.
“It is delightful reading at all times.”—Cedar Rapids (Ia.) Republican.
“It is well written, the story runs smoothly, the idea is good, and it is handled with ability.”
—Chicago Journal.
The Little Girl Next Door
A delightful story of true and genuine friendship between an impulsive little girl in a fine New York home and a little blind girl in an apartment next door. The little girl’s determination to cultivate the acquaintance, begun out of the window during a rainy day, triumphs over the barriers of caste, and the little blind girl proves to be in every way a worthy companion. Later a mystery of birth is cleared up, and the little blind girl proves to be of gentle birth as well as of gentle manners.
Winifred’s Neighbors
Little Winifred’s efforts to find some children of whom she reads in a book lead to the acquaintance of a neighbor of the same name, and this acquaintance proves of the greatest importance to Winifred’s own family. Through it all she is just such a little girl as other girls ought to know, and the story will hold the interest of all ages.
The Children on the Top Floor
In this book little Winifred Hamilton, the child heroine of “Winifred’s Neighbors,” reappears, living in the second of the four stories of a New York apartment house. On the top floor are two very interesting children, Betty, a little older than Winifred, who is now ten, and Jack, a brave little cripple, who is a year younger. In the end comes a glad reunion, and also other good-fortune for crippled Jack, and Winifred’s kind little heart has once more indirectly caused great happiness to others.
How Barbara Kept Her Promise
Two orphan sisters, Barbara, aged twelve, and little Hazel, who is “only eight,” are sent from their early home in London to their mother’s family in New York. Faithful Barbara has promised her father that she will take care of pretty, petted, mischievous Hazel, and how she tries to do this, even in the face of great difficulties, forms the story which has the happy ending which Miss Rhoades wisely gives to all her stories.
Little Miss Rosamond
Rosamond lives in Richmond, Va., with her big brother, who cannot give her all the comfort that she needs in the trying hot weather, and she goes to the seaside cottage of an uncle whose home is in New York. Here she meets Gladys and Joy, so well known in a previous book, “The Little Girl Next Door,” and after some complications are straightened out, bringing Rosamond’s honesty and kindness of heart into prominence, all are made very happy.
A Boy of a Thousand Years Ago
It will at once be understood that the “boy” of the story is Alfred the Great in his youth, but it cannot be understood how delightful a story this is until it is seen and read. The splendid pictures of George Varian make this book superior among juveniles.
“Not a boy lives who will not enjoy this book thoroughly. There is a good deal of first-class historical information woven into the story, but the best part of it is the splendid impression of times and manners it gives in old England a thousand years ago.”—Louisville Courier-Journal.
“Mrs. Comstock writes very appreciatively of Little Alfred, who was afterward the Great, and from mighty meagre materials creates a story that hangs together well. The illustrations for this volume are especially beautiful.”
—Boston Home Journal.
The Story of Joan of Arc — For Boys and Girls
The favorite story of Joan of Arc is here treated in a uniquely attractive way. “Aunt Kate” tells the story of Joan of Arc to Master Harold, aged 11, and to Misses Bessie and Marjorie, aged 10 and 8, respectively, to their intense delight. They look up places on the map, and have a fine time while hearing the thrilling story, told in such simple language that they can readily understand it all. Parents and teachers will also be greatly interested in this book from an educational point of view.
“The tale is well told and the children will delight in it.”
—Chicago Post.
“Told so simply and clearly that young readers cannot fail to be entertained and instructed.”—Congregationalist, Boston.