But the cat sat down on his tail in the corner and looked cross. “Scat!” said he, with an angry caterwaul. “It is not fair that you should go and that I should not.”
“Oh, yes, it is,” said the gleeful turnspits; “turn and turn about is fair play: you saw the rat that was killed in the parlor.”
“Turn about fair play, indeed!” cried the cat. “Then all of you get to your spits; I am sure that is turn about!”
“Nay,” said the turnspits, wagging their tails and laughing. “That is over and over again, which is not fair play. ’Tis the coffee-mill that is turn and turn about. So turn about to your mill, Sooty Will; we are off to see the King!”
“turning hand-springs, head-springs, and heel-springs as they went”
With that they pranced out into the court-yard, turning hand-springs, head-springs, and heel-springs as they went, and, after giving three hearty and vociferous cheers in a grand chorus at the bottom of the garden, went capering away for their holiday.
The cat spat at their vanishing heels, sat down on his tail in the chimney-corner, and was very glum indeed.
Just then the cook looked in from the pantry. “Hullo!” he said gruffly. “Come, hurry up the coffee!” That was the way he always gave his orders.
