"A Prime Minister when I am myself," answered Pajuka promptly, "but unfortunately just now I am not myself."
"A goose!" purred the cat Queen, licking her lips hungrily. "Ah, it's years since I've tasted a goose. How old are you? How much do you weigh? Are you tender?"
At each dreadful question, her Maltese Majesty drew nearer to Pajuka. Snip looked appealingly at Mombi, but the old witch had forgotten them both and was seated blissfully under the catsup tree, her lap full of kittens.
"As a man I was in my prime, but I'm a very old goose," panted Pajuka, edging nervously away from the greedy Queen.
"I don't believe it," said her Majesty, giving Pajuka a playful poke. "What fun! A guest! A prisoner and a dinner! The witch shall stay, the boy shall be publicly chased and scratched and the goose, ah the goose shall be eaten! You may kiss my paw!" purred her Highness, advancing graciously toward Snip.
"Mombi! Mombi! Do you hear that?" screamed Pajuka wildly. "I'm to be served up for dinner!"
"Serve you right," yawned the witch drowsily.
"I'll not let them eat you!" shouted Snip, brushing aside the Queen's paw and struggling to free himself from the cat guard.