His brother eagerly begged him to go on, and threw a dry peat on the fire to encourage him. The dogs were sleeping quietly, but the cat was sitting up, and seemed to be listening just as carefully and cannily as Elshender himself. Both brothers, indeed, turned their eyes on the cat as Fergus took up his story.
“Yes,” he continued, “it is as true as I sit here. The coffin and the torches were both carried by CATS, and upon the coffin were marked a crown and a scepter!”
He got no farther, for the black cat started up, shrieking:—
“My stars! old Peter's dead, and I'm the King o' the Cats!”—Then rushed up the chimney, and was seen no more.
THE STRANGE VISITOR
AN ENGLISH FOLK-TALE
BY JOSEPH JACOBS
A woman was sitting at her reel one night; and still she sat, and still she reeled, and still she wished for company.
In came a pair of broad, broad soles, and sat down at the fireside!