“Mouseroun made a sign to Phi to ask of the ribboned white cat why he was called Cupep the Careful. Phi did so.
“‘Because I can be trusted,’ replied the ribboned white cat to Phi, ‘and trusted in any place, among china, glass, pictures, bottles, papers, no matter how high the shelf, how narrow, or how full. I step in and out so carefully that no harm is ever done. Nobody minds even if I step on the baby’s face. You see I am allowed here with papers and a bottle and feather, easy to upset. All this is why I am called Cupep the Careful. I shall presently sit on the paper, and to sit on paper is pleasant.’
“As Cupep the Careful finished telling why he was called Cupep the Careful, Mouseroun drew Phi’s attention to two dark objects sitting in a barn at some distance. Bidding Cupep the Careful good morning they went towards the barn and found that the two dark objects were two black-and-white young cats. Said Phi, ‘These must be the sour faced twins, Tweedledum and Tweedledee, called Dum and Dee. I have often heard of them, but never any good.’
Tweedledum and Tweedledee.
“They went nearer. The sour faced twins sat side by side looking cross and unhappy. Mouseroun motioned to Phi to address them.
“‘Are you not the twins Tweedledum and Tweedledee, called Dum and Dee?’ asked Phi, ‘and is it not one of you which shortly ago bit the toes of a boy, and spit at his dog, and clawed his cat?’
“‘It was I,’ said Tweedledee, ‘who did that. I could not maul Cupep the Careful and I meant to maul somebody. I will maul him if I can. The stuck-up thing! Everybody praises him. He has a watch to wear. Nobody praises me and I have not even a ribbon. He has had his picture taken and hung up. Why don’t they take my picture?’
“‘They’d much better take mine,’ snarled Tweedledum. ‘I’ve been crying to have my picture taken ever since I saw that one of Tabby Furpurr who found out a way of not liking birds, and on that account had her picture taken and set in a pussy willow frame. They won’t take my picture. But I’ll be even with them. I get hold of the clock strings, I tangle yarn, I won’t purr, I climb posts and tear down the flowers, I scratch the baby’s face, I pull away his playthings, I wait on the doorstep and bite his fingers, when he tries to reach me, and I kill birds. I’m not going to find a way of not liking birds if they won’t have my picture taken! I am better looking than Tabby Furpurr; I’m sweet and lovely.’