y, and the princess presented her with a superb silver
cream-jug, towards her stock of furniture. And, as there were more
rooms in her cottage than she wanted for her own use, Friskarina took
in six infirm, homeless cats, advanced in life, and provided for them
as long as they lived; and when they died, she supplied their places
with others, equally necessitous. As Glumdalkin died without a will,
Friskarina, being her nearest relation, of course, succeeded to her
property, which chiefly consisted of that delightful soft bed, of
yellow satin, which I told you about before, and which, together with
her own, Friskarina immediately set aside for the use of the two
oldest and most rheumatic cats in her establishment.

And now I must tell you a little more about the princess: when the
Fairy paid her next visit to her, which was in about a year's time,
she found a great change for the better in her. Instead of lying in
her bed half the morning, she was up by six; instead of sitting all
day on the sofa, reading nothing but story-books and silly fairy-tales
(which, of course, sensible people never read), she studied wise books
of history and geography, and made flannel petticoats, and knitted
warm stockings for the poor, and went to see them at their own
dwellings: in short, she had become as useful as she had been idle and
selfish before. The wretched huts at her gate were gone, and in their
place was a very pretty row of cottages; and such nice, neat old
people lived in them--for, as for the young and healthy, the princess
ordered them to go out into the world and earn their own livelihood.

'But, did the princess ever get back her fine things?'

Why that is rather a puzzling question. Some people say that she never
did: others believe that the Fairy made her the offer of them, but
that she declined it, thinking that she should, perhaps, grow too fond
of them again: while some other people say, that the Fairy gave her
back those things which her high station as a princess required, but,
that the young lady herself begged her to keep those things which
would only have tended to make her vain and self-indulgent. And I am
very much disposed myself to think that this account of the matter is
the true one.

[Illustration]

THE DISCONTENTED CAT.

Once upon a time--I can't say exactly when it was--there stood a neat,
tidy little hut on the borders of a wild forest. A poor old woman
dwelt in this hut. She lived on the w