“Beefsteak and onions,” he said suddenly.
The Rainbow Cat fell back and pretended to be lost in admiration.
“Perfectly right,” he said. “How did you guess such a thing?”
“Oh, it just came into my mind,” said the giant modestly.
“You know,” said the cat seriously, “you ought to cultivate this gift. It’s most unusual.”
“How can I do it?” said the giant eagerly, for he thought it would be very delightful to be able to read people’s thoughts. Which shows how stupid he was.
“Go home,” said the cat, “and lie down for a couple of hours. Then take these three little pink comfits and lie down for another couple of hours. After that you may get up and have a cup of tea. But keep very quiet. Before going to bed eat this other little white comfit, and when you wake up in the morning you will be able to read people’s thoughts.”
The giant was all impatience to be gone, but he did not quite forget his manners.
“I am very much obliged to you,” he said. “Can’t I do anything for you in exchange, Professor Mewpus?”
The Rainbow Cat pondered for a moment.