"Whoa, my good steed," cried Puss. "Don't you see it's only a little fairy?"
"Only a little fairy!" cried the forest fay. "I would have you understand, Sir Cat, that I have at my command a million subjects. I have but to sound a call upon my silver horn and they will surround you."
"Bah!" cried Puss, scornfully. "I have no fear of such tiny things."
But, oh, dear me! no sooner had he said this than the fairy blew a shrill blast upon his silver horn, and from all directions came thousands of little fairies on moth millers and fireflies. And, oh, dear me! again, before Puss knew what was going to happen they stretched tiny ropes about his Good Gray Horse and bound his legs fast, and after that they tied Puss to the saddle.
"Ha, ha!" laughed the little fairy. "Now, my good Sir Cat, will you believe that fairies have power?"
"Gid-ap!" cried Puss, but his good gray steed could move neither head nor foot. "Gid-ap!" he cried again; but his Good Gray Horse could move neither ears nor tail.
"Gracious me!" exclaimed Puss. "I'm in a pretty mess!" And then the fairies began to sing:
"Pride must ever have a fall.
Ne'er despise the weak and small.
Only he who's brave and good
Shall pass safely through this wood."
"I don't see how that applies to me," cried Puss, stoutly. "I may have been a trifle rude, but I maintain I'm brave and good."
Well, just then, all of a sudden, a big kind-hearted owl flew down from his nest in a tree and cut all the fairy ropes with a big pair of scissors. And then he gave a great hoot, which so frightened the fairies that they flew away, helter skelter, into the depths of the forest.