The chair was covered with red velvet, and there was a bright fire in the room, that sparkled and glowed and made all the furniture in it shine.
The cat looked up and then she purred, saying—
"Till there is a place
Where gamekeepers are not,
My house shall not stay
In any spot."
And the house with the cat in it went on and on, until it came to a far-off place where there were no houses and no gamekeepers, and no fear of traps. Then it stopped with such a jerk that the front door flew open, and a woolly dog, with a red morocco collar and very stiff legs, came in, crying out—
"She is coming, she is coming,
She will like a cup of tea.
She must be quite hot with running,
She is coming after me."
"Who is she?" asked the cat.
Then said the dog—
"Little Nan, she ate the porridge,
And she grew quite tall,
But when she has reached your cottage
She will be quite small."
"Why?" asked the cat.
"Because the effect of the porridge only lasts whilst she is running."