The rest of the company nodded their heads. "Yes, do tell it," said one after another.
"Very well, little Osman," said the lady whom the boy's mother had asked. "You shall have the story. I trust you will remember it whenever you think of the Holy Prophet.
"Mohammed once travelled a long, long distance over the desert. He became very tired, and at last he stopped to rest. As he did so, he fell fast asleep.
"Then, sad am I to tell it, a wicked serpent glided out from among the rocks and drew near the Prophet. It was about to bite him, when a cat happened to come along. She saw the serpent and what it was about to do; she rushed upon it and struggled and fought. The serpent defended itself with all its strength and cunning, too. Great was the battle. But the cat killed the snake.
"As it was dying, the wicked creature hissed so horribly that the noise awakened Mohammed, and he saw at once that the cat had saved his life.
"'Come here,' he said. As the cat obeyed him, the holy man stroked her lovingly three times. Three times he blessed her, saying these words:
"'May peace be yours, O cat. I will reward you for your kindness to me this day. No enemy shall conquer thee. No creature that lives shall ever be able to throw thee on thy back. Thou art indeed thrice blessed.'"
"And is this the reason a cat always falls on her feet?" asked Osman.
"Even so, my little friend. Perhaps after this story you will feel more loving toward those soft-footed creatures," said the lady.