and the cottage, too, in which she lives—O Glumdalkin! such a place it is, you never saw anything like it; there was not a bit of fire on the hearth, and in one corner there lay a woman on a heap of straw, with an old rug over her. She was not at all like the princess, or the maids of honor, for she had such a thin white face, and such skinny hands, it was dreadful to look at her—she was quite as thin as the poor cat: and the old woman, I mean the cat's mistress, was stooping over her, and giving her something out of a broken cup. Poor old woman! she groaned so, when she looked at her, that it really went to my heart to hear her.'

'And pray,' interrupted Glumdalkin, 'what's all this to us? I do think you take quite a delight in making one low spirited; as if the day wasn't quite dismal enough already. Of course, one's very sorry for the people, and all that sort of thing, but what good can you do, I should like to know, poking your nose into such places? You can't do anything for them; and why should you put yourself into such a ridiculous fuss? If you were the princess, now, you might help the people—but you, a cat, what can you do? It's no concern of yours.'

'It is too true,' sighed Friskarina, 'I can do no good to the old woman and her sick daughter; but, with your leave, Cousin Glumdalkin, I can do something for the poor cat, and that will be better than nothing: if one can't do what one would, one ought to do what one can. And now, my dear good Cousin Glumdalkin, I want you to lend me a helping paw, if you please.'

'Well, what now?' grumbled Glumdalkin.

'Why, you know they always give us our dinner behind the laurel trees, on the grass, and you know, too, that they give us more than we want; indeed, more than is good for us—for don't you remember, when you were ill last autumn, the doctor said you ought to live more sparingly? and they never take away the bits when we have done; so that it is all our own property, and I was thinking that if you would be so very kind as to leave a bone or two that you really don't want, and I will do the same, the poor——'

Astonishment and indignation had, so far, kept Glumdalkin silent; but now, finding voice once more, she burst forth into a perfect torrent of wrath, declaring that not one bone would she leave—no! that she wouldn't. She wouldn't be answerable for bringing a parcel of thieving cats about the house—a pretty thing indeed!—what did Friskarina think the princess would say?

Friskarina meekly replied, that there would certainly be no thieving in the case; for that their dinner was all their own, and if they did not eat it all, it would only be left on the grass, to moulder away; and she really could not think the princess would have any objection to their relieving the poor cat's want, out of their own abundance. But these, and other similar arguments were all wasted upon the selfish Glumdalkin: she jumped down from her stool in a passion, turned her back upon Friskarina, rolled herself round into a great black ball, and seemed in a few moments to be fast asleep. Not that she was asleep, though; and her bad humor was not much mended by hearing the princess, who was lying on her sofa, call Friskarina to her, in her most endearing accents:—'Her dear, good, darling little Friskarina.'

'It's most uncommonly odd that she never calls for me,' thought Glumdalkin.

Meanwhile, Friskarina had jumped up to her mistress, who stroked her fondly, and kissed her, and Friskarina felt her face wet with tears.

'What can be the matter with the princess?' thought she; 'I am sure she can't have any troubles; O I wish she could see that poor woman in the cottage!'

One o'clock—and the great bell of the palace rang—and then the cats always went down to dinner, and the princess went down to her luncheon. And a grand luncheon it was, for it happened that day to be the princess's birth-day, and three of her cousins were coming to dine with her, and they were going to have such a plum-pudding—so very big; and there was to be an elephant and castle, made of sugar, all over gilding, at the top. But, somehow, when the princess sat down to her luncheon, she did not look happy, notwithstanding her birth-day, and her three cousins, and the great plum-pudding they were going to have.

'May it please your royal highness,' said the tall page, Grandmagnificolowsky, 'shall I put the cats' meat in the hall for them, as the snow is so deep in the garden, to-day?'

'No, no, nonsense!' replied the princess, who had just helped herself to the breast of a partridge, 'put it in the old place in the garden; and here—put this wing and leg upon the dish too.'

Did not Glumdalkin's eyes sparkle when she got to the dish, and found the wing of the partridge; how she devoured it! She was really so busy, that she actually was some minutes before she discovered that Friskarina had gently drawn away a mutton bone, with some beautiful picking upon it, to a spot at a little distance among the trees, and that she had then come quietly back, and was making her own dinner upon the drumstick of a chicken, which she was eating very deliberately, as if she were trying to make it last as long as possible. There was still the leg of the partridge left, and two or three other very delicate tit-bits, besides two large slices of cold roast-beef. Glumdalkin had hardly swallowed the last morsel of the wing, and was just thinking about the leg, when, to her unspeakable surprise, the house-door opened, and out came the princess, attended by one of the maids of honor, and followed by Grandmagnificolowsky. The ladies were muffled up in their fur cloaks, and the maid of honor seemed to be carrying a basket. Poor famished Glumdalkin! so great was her astonishment, that she positively paused, with her claw suspended over the leg of the partridge, to see what her royal highness could possibly be about.

The princess no sooner came up to the place where the cats were dining, than, stopping, she commanded the page to carry Glumdalkin back to the house. 'That cat will eat herself into an apoplexy,' she said; 'I never saw such a greedy creature!'

The astonishment, the indignation of Glumdalkin, what words can describe? It has been said, that she positively set up her back and hissed at the princess; but I can hardly believe that. However, whether she did or not, it made no difference. Grandmagnificolowsky picked her up, and carried her into the house, not without plenty of scratches for his trouble. The princess and the maid of honor passed on, and went out at the garden door.

Here was a golden opportunity for Friskarina! She ran behind the bushes, where Tibb was munching her bone with all her might; and telling her to eat all that was left upon the dish, sat by, watching her with the utmost satisfaction in her countenance, though she certainly had not had a very capital dinner herself. Poor little Tibb! She looked as if she hardly knew how to eat, for sheer joy! However, she did finish at last; and then, running up to Friskarina, called her her only friend—her deliverer from starvation—and said many other very affectionate things besides. But Friskarina cut them short, by begging her to go home without delay, for fear the gardener should find her, and hang her up to the apple-tree. That conclusion of her morning's adventures not appearing desirable to poor Tibb, she lost no time in following her friend's advice, and, with a scramble or two, was soon over the wall, and on her road home.

Now