"If you please, ma'am," he said, "I expect there are good witches as well as bad witches."
"Ah, well! Let us hope I'm a good witch, one who will help you to find your fortune, and Alexander's too"; and the witch stretched out her thin old hands to the fire to warm them.
Wonders will never cease! George suddenly caught sight of Alexander lying down side by side with the yellow cat—and when he was at home not a single cat was allowed to put even one foot inside the garden!
"He's quite an old friend," said the witch. "My dear Golden Girl and he are almost like brother and sister."
Alexander licked the end of the cat's nose, and she patted him gently with her paw and purred.
"Sit down and tell me all about it," continued the witch, pushing a three-legged stool toward George. He perched himself on it with his legs swinging in the air, and commenced to talk—at least, he always said afterward that he did—but what with the witch nodding, the cat purring, and the kettle boiling it is more than likely that he fell asleep.
Suddenly the kettle began to boil furiously, and clouds of steam poured out of its spout.
"Nearly ready! Nearly ready!" said the witch, and counted slowly up to ten. Then: "Take off the lid, Alexander!" she cried.
Alexander jumped up and lifted off the kettle-lid with his tail as if he had been used to doing it all his life.
In a moment the kitchen was full of steam, which wreathed and curled itself into the queerest shapes and figures. George wondered what was going to happen next, but sat still and said nothing.