an could not hush it, for it struggled and kicked
and grew black in the face.

'O my Enemy and Wife of my Enemy and Mother of my Enemy,' said the Cat,
'take a strand of the wire that you are spinning and tie it to your
spinning-whorl and drag it along the floor, and I will show you a magic
that shall make your Baby laugh as loudly as he is now crying.'

'I will do so,' said the Woman, 'because I am at my wits' end; but I
will not thank you for it.'

She tied the thread to the little clay spindle whorl and drew it across
the floor, and the Cat ran after it and patted it with his paws and
rolled head over heels, and tossed it backward over his shoulder and
chased it between his hind-legs and pretended to lose it, and pounced
down upon it again, till the Baby laughed as loudly as it had been
crying, and scrambled after the Cat and frolicked all over the Cave till
it grew tired and settled down to sleep with the Cat in its arms.

'Now,' said the Cat, 'I will sing the Baby a song that shall keep him
asleep for an hour. And he began to purr, loud and low, low and loud,
till the Baby fell fast asleep. The Woman smiled as she looked down upon
the two of them and said, 'That was wonderfully done. No question but
you are very clever, O Cat.'

That very minute and second, Best Beloved, the smoke of the fire at the
back of the Cave came down in clouds from the roof--puff!--because
it remembered the bargain she had made with the Cat, and when it had
cleared away--lo and behold!--the Cat was sitting quite comfy close to
the fire.

'O my Enemy and Wife of my Enemy and Mother of My Enemy,' said the Cat,
'it is I, for you have spoken a second word in my praise, and now I can
sit by the warm fire at the back of 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.'

Then the Woman was very very angry, and let down her hair and put more
wood on the fire and brought out the broad blade-bone of the shoulder of
mutton and began to make a Magic that should prevent her from saying
a third word in praise of the Cat. It was not a Singing Magic, Best
Beloved, it was a Still Magic; and by and by the Cave grew so still that
a little wee-wee mouse crept out of a corner and ran across the floor.

'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-