THE WISHING-DAY.[ToC]
Long, long ago, in the glorious reign of King Huggermuggerus, there lived in an ancient castle a highly respectable cat and his wife. They led a very comfortable life of it, for the castle belonged to an old baron who kept very little company, and was very fond of his cats: so it was very rarely that any strange dogs were admitted within the walls; and the cats breakfasted every morning with their master. They had only two children; all the rest of their numerous family having been barbarously drowned by the housekeeper, who was a very cross old woman, and did not like cats, nor anything else very much. But the cats did not trouble their heads much about her; in fact, they had very little to do with her, for they were allowed full liberty to wander about the castle at their pleasure.
It was a delightful old castle, full of such queer odd nooks and corners, that one might have been lost in it for days together; and there were long corridors, in which the kittens used to run races on moonlight nights, when the old housekeeper was safe in bed, and make such a racket, it would have done your heart good to hear them. But they chiefly took possession of a charming old room, hung with tapestry representing all sorts of strange things, and very convenient for the two kittens to play at hide-and-seek behind it; and as the room faced the south, they got all the sun to warm them. The elder of them was called Wishie, the younger Contenta. Their papa and mamma had given them these names, because Wishie was always saying she wished she had this, and she wished she had that, and never seemed satisfied unless she had everything she mewed for: while Contenta, on the contrary, was of the sweetest disposition in the world, and always pleased with what was given to her. One would have thought that neither of them could have had anything to wish for; for they had plenty to eat and drink—nice long galleries to run about in—no dogs or children to tease them—and a garden with many tall trees, and abundance of sparrows. What could they want besides?
One bright summer-day, the sun was shining splendidly—the flowers were in full bloom—the air was laden with sweet scents from the honey-suckles and moss-roses, and the larks were singing away high up in the sky, as merry as if they had all gone out for a holiday, when Wishie took it into her head to have a stroll in the garden. Now, it so happened that Contenta, who had been keeping the baron company at his breakfast, had carried off into the garden a very nice chicken-bone which her master had given her. So she sat down under a rose-tree to eat it. But she did not remain there long before Wishie spied her out. 'Well, to be sure!' exclaimed she to her herself, as she drew near the rose-bush, 'What a bone Contenta has got there! She has been breakfasting with our master, that's very clear. I'm sure nobody ever gives me such great bones! I wish Contenta would let me have a bit of it—;' and so saying, she threw herself down beside her sister, pretending to look very tired and hungry, and whined out, 'Do, Contenta, give me a bit! I am so hungry!'
'Willingly,' replied Contenta, who was very good-natured; 'but have you had no breakfast, Wishie, this morning?'
'O, nothing to speak of,' said Wishie, falling tooth and claw upon the bone; and in a very few minutes she had devoured by far the largest share of it. Now, I don't mean to say that Contenta was such an unnaturally amiable cat, as to be exactly well pleased to see her breakfast disappear in such a wholesale fashion; but she consoled herself with reflecting, that dinner would come some time or other; and being, as I said, very good-natured, she made Wishie very welcome to the bone, and began frisking after the leaves upon the gravel-walk. I am sorry to say, that when Wishie had devoured the chicken-bone, she did not seem half so much ashamed of her selfish conduct as she ought to have been; but, seeing a fine plump little sparrow perch himself upon the branch of an old tree near, she sprung up the stem after him. Now it was really very greedy of her, but however she did it, and some wonderful things happened in consequence. The tree was very old, and the trunk was quite hollow; but that Wishie did not know; so when she had clambered up to the top she suddenly found herself on the brink of a frightful abyss—there seemed a hollow deep down to the very roots of the tree. She peeped cautiously down to see what she could see, but somehow or other, whether she overbalanced herself, or whether a bit of the bark gave way, or how it was I can't tell, but Wishie tipped over, and tumbled headlong into the hollow of the tree. But as she luckily fell into a bed of thick moss she was not the worse; and giving herself a shake, she opened her eyes and looked about her.