d to turn into every evening--the dear
hostess who had amused him so well in the White Cat's fairy Palace?

It was she, beyond a doubt, and that was why Tavy didn't mind a bit
about the China Cat being taken from him and kept under glass. You may
think that it was just any old stray white cat that had come in by
accident. Tavy knows better. It has the very same tender tone in its
purr that the magic White Cat had. It will not talk to Tavy, it is true;
but Tavy can and does talk to it. But the thing that makes it perfectly
certain that it is the White Cat is that the tips of its two ears are
missing--just as the China Cat's ears were. If you say that it might
have lost its ear-tips in battle you are the kind of person who always
_makes_ difficulties, and you may be quite sure that the kind of
splendid magics that happened to Tavy will never happen to _you_.

VII

BELINDA AND BELLAMANT; OR THE BELLS OF CARRILLON-LAND

There is a certain country where a king is never allowed to reign while
a queen can be found. They like queens much better than kings in that
country. I can't think why. If some one has tried to teach you a little
history, you will perhaps think that this is the Salic law. But it
isn't. In the biggest city of that odd country there is a great
bell-tower (higher than the clock-tower of the Houses of Parliament,
where they put M.P.'s who forget their manners). This bell-tower had
seven bells in it, very sweet-toned splendid bells, made expressly to
ring on the joyful occasions when a princess was born who would be queen
some day. And the great tower was built expressly for the bells to ring
in. So you see what a lot they thought of queens in that country. Now in
all the bells there are bell-people--it is their voices that you hear
when the bells ring. All that about its being the clapper of the bell is
mere nonsense, and would hardly deceive a child. I don't know why people
say such things. Most Bell-people are very energetic busy folk, who love
the sound of their own voices, and hate being idle, and when nearly two
hundred years had gone by, and no princesses had been born, they got
tired of living in bells that were never rung. So they slipped out of
the belfry one fine frosty night, and left the big beautiful bells
empty, and went off to find other homes. One of them went to live in a
dinner-bell, and one in a school-bell, and the rest all found
homes--they did not mind where--just anywhere, in f