"Half-out," answered the cat.
"Half-out! What do you mean? I never heard such a name before in my life; I will wager anything it is not in the calendar," but the cat replied nothing.
Pussy's mouth soon began to water again at the recollection of the feasting. "All good things come in threes," said he to the mouse. "I am again required to be godfather; this child is quite black, and has little white claws, but not a single white hair on his body; such a thing only happens once in two years, so pray excuse me this time."
"Top-off! Half-out!" answered the mouse; "those are such curious names, they make me a bit suspicious."
"Ah!" replied the cat, "there you sit in your gray coat and long tail, thinking nonsense. That comes of never going out."
The mouse busied herself during the cat's absence in putting the house in order, but meanwhile greedy puss licked the grease-pot clean out. "When it is all done one will rest in peace," thought he to himself, and as soon as night came he went home fat and tired. The mouse, however, again asked what name the third child had received. "It will not please you any better," answered the cat, "for he is called All-out."
"All-out!" exclaimed the mouse; "well, that is certainly the most curious name by far. I have never yet seen it in print. All-out! What can that mean?" and, shaking her head, she rolled herself up and went to sleep.
After that nobody else asked the cat to stand godfather; but the winter had arrived, and nothing more was to be picked up out of doors; so the mouse bethought herself of their store of provision, and said, "Come, friend cat, we will go to our grease-pot which we laid by; it will taste well now."
"Yes, indeed," replied the cat; "it will taste as well as if you stroked your tongue against the window."