III.
On the opposite side of the house was an old gentleman in a velvet cap. He had a paper in his hand, and was trying to teach something to a boy who was on the other side of the trellis. But the boy was not attending to him, though he kept his eyes fixed upon the paper.
No; he was muttering—
"The little cat was in the house, and the house moved away. It must have been an enchanted house and an enchanted cat."
"What are you saying?" asked the old gentleman. "That is not on the paper."
Then the boy looked up and said—
"If I'd seven-leagued boots, I'd go after them."
"That is certainly not written down there," answered the old gentleman. "Of what are you thinking, Ulick?"
"Of the house that stood close by this house. I had a dream last night that it moved away, and that the little cat with which I played had also gone, and I want to go after them."
"You talk nonsense, Ulick. How can a house made of bricks and mortar and heavy beams of wood move away?"
"That I know not; but it is gone. I hear it now rumbling away in the distance, as if it were on great wheels—I do really," answered Ulick.
"the mother ... was kneeling beside a little child" ([p. 361]).
The old gentleman, who often came to chat with Ulick, and to try to teach him various things, felt quite vexed, and he folded up his paper, and shut up his camp-stool and went away.
When he had gone an old hen turned round and spoke to Ulick.
"You can hear us, for you have the right sort of ears, but the old man cannot. It is quite true: the house has gone."
"Where?"
The rabbits were listening, with their long ears erect.
"That I cannot tell, but Nan is going after it."
"Nan! but she is so small."
"Is she?" exclaimed the hen. "You should see her now that she has eaten the porridge: she is much taller than her mother, and her legs are so long that she can skim over the ground like an ostrich."
"Then she will get the cat."
"Perhaps. One does not know," answered the hen.
"I hope she will," said a young rabbit.
"I hope she won't," said an old rabbit, "for then she will bring her back here."
There was a groan amongst the rabbits and the poultry. And then the Virginian creeper, that was twisting and turning and throwing its leaves about all over the trellis, began to quiver and shake as if it were trying to say something, and at last a very tiny voice came from one of the shoots, and said—
"Should Nan the flying house o'ertake,
She will with it long journeys make,
And come back here no more."
The fowls and rabbits were glad to hear this, but Ulick said—
"Nan shall not overtake the house; Nan shall not have the dear little cat."