Paws and Whiskers

by Jacqueline Wilson

  ‘Ah!’ said the Cat, listening. ‘That is a very foolish Dog.’ And he went back through the Wet Wild Woods waving his wild tail, and walking by his wild lone. But he never told anybody.

  When the Man waked up he said, ‘What is Wild Dog doing here?’ And the Woman said, ‘His name is not Wild Dog any more, but the First Friend, because he will be our friend for always and always and always. Take him with you when you go hunting.’

  Next night the Woman cut great green armfuls of fresh grass from the water-meadows, and dried it before the fire, so that it smelt like new-mown hay, and she sat at the mouth of the Cave and plaited a halter out of horse-hide, and she looked at the shoulder-of-mutton bone – at the big broad blade-bone – and she made a Magic. She made the Second Singing Magic in the world.

  Out in the Wild Woods all the wild animals wondered what had happened to the Wild Dog, and at last Wild Horse stamped his foot and said, ‘I will go and see and say why Wild Dog has not returned. Cat, come with me.’

  ‘Nenni!’ said the Cat. ‘I am the Cat who walks by himself, and all places are alike to me. I will not come.’ But all the same he followed Wild Horse softly, very softly, and hid himself where he could hear everything.

  When the Woman heard Wild Horse tripping and stumbling on his long mane, she laughed and said, ‘Here comes the second. Wild Thing out of the Wild Woods, what do you want?’

  Wild Horse said, ‘O my Enemy and Wife of my Enemy, where is Wild Dog?’

  The woman laughed, and picked up the blade-bone and looked at it, and said, ‘Wild Thing out of the Wild Woods, you did not come here for Wild Dog, but for the sake of this good grass.’

  And Wild Horse, tripping and stumbling on his long mane, said, ‘That is true; give it me to eat.’

  The Woman said, ‘Wild Thing out of the Wild Woods, bend your wild head and wear what I give you, and you shall eat the wonderful grass three times a day.’

  ‘Ah,’ said the Cat, listening, ‘this is a clever Woman, but she is not so clever as I am.’

  Wild Horse bent his wild head, and the Woman slipped the plaited hide halter over it, and Wild Horse breathed on the Woman’s feet and said, ‘O my Mistress, and Wife of my Master, I will be your servant for the sake of the wonderful grass.’

  ‘Ah,’ said the Cat, listening, ‘that is a very foolish Horse.’ And he went back through the Wet Wild Woods, waving his wild tail and walking by his wild lone. But he never told anybody.

  When the Man and the Dog came back from hunting, the Man said, ‘What is Wild Horse doing here?’ And the Woman said, ‘His name is not Wild Horse any more, but the first Servant, because he will carry us from place to place for always and always and always. Ride on his back when you go hunting.’

  Next day, holding her wild head high that her wild horns should not catch in the wild trees, Wild Cow came up to the Cave, and the Cat followed, and hid himself just the same as before; and everything happened just the same as before; and the Cat said the same things as before; and when Wild Cow had promised to give her milk to the Woman every day in exchange for the wonderful grass, the Cat went back through the Wet Wild Woods waving his wild tail and walking by his wild lone, just the same as before. But he never told anybody. And when the Man and the Horse and the Dog came home from hunting and asked the same questions same as before, the Woman said, ‘Her name is not Wild Cow any more, but the Giver of Good Food. She will give us the warm white milk for always and always and always, and I will take care of her while you and the First Friend and the First Servant go hunting.’

  Next day the Cat waited to see if any other Wild Thing would go up to the Cave, but no one moved in the Wet Wild Woods, so the Cat walked there by himself; and he saw the Woman milking the Cow, and he saw the light of the fire in the Cave, and he smelt the smell of the warm white milk.

  Cat said, ‘O my Enemy and Wife of my Enemy, where did Wild Cow go?’

  The Woman laughed and said, ‘Wild Thing out of the Wild Woods, go back to the Woods again, for I have braided up my hair, and I have put away the magic blade-bone, and we have no more need of either friends or servants in our Cave.’

  Cat said, ‘I am not a friend, and I am not a servant. I am the Cat who walks by himself, and I wish to come into your Cave.’

  Woman said, ‘Then why did you not come with First Friend on the first night?’

  Cat grew very angry and said, ‘Has Wild Dog told tales of me?’

  Then the Woman laughed and said, ‘You are the Cat who walks by himself, and all places are alike to you. You are neither a friend nor a servant. You have said it yourself. Go away and walk by yourself in all places alike.’

  Then Cat pretended to be sorry and said, ‘Must I never come into the Cave? Must I never sit by the warm fire? Must I never drink the warm white milk? You are very wise and very beautiful. You should not be cruel even to a Cat.’

  Woman said, ‘I knew I was wise, but I did not know I was beautiful. So I will make a bargain with you. If ever I say one word in your praise, you may come into the Cave.’

  ‘And if you say two words in my praise?’ said the Cat.

  ‘I never shall,’ said the Woman, ‘but if I say two words in your praise, you may sit by the fire in the cave.’

  ‘And if you say three words?’ said the Cat.

  ‘I never shall,’ said the Woman, ‘but if I say three words in your praise, you may drink the warm white milk three times a day for always and always and always.’

  Then the Cat arched his back and said, ‘Now let the Curtain at the mouth of the Cave, and the Fire at the back of the Cave, and the Milk-pots that stand beside the Fire, remember what my Enemy and the Wife of my Enemy has said.’ And he went away through the Wet Wild Woods waving his wild tail and walking by his wild lone.

  That night when the Man and the Horse and the Dog came home from hunting, the Woman did not tell them of the bargain that she had made with the Cat, because she was afraid that they might not like it.

  Cat went far and far away and hid himself in the Wet Wild Woods by his wild lone for a long time till the Woman forgot all about him. Only the Bat – the little upside-down Bat – that hung inside the Cave knew where Cat hid; and every evening Bat would fly to Cat with news of what was happening.

  One evening Bat said, ‘There is a Baby in the Cave. He is new and pink and fat and small, and the Woman is very fond of him.’

  ‘Ah,’ said the Cat, listening, ‘but what is the Baby fond of?’

  ‘He is fond of things that are soft and tickle,’ said the Bat. ‘He is fond of warm things to hold in his arms when he goes to sleep. He is fond of being played with. He is fond of all those things.’

  ‘Ah,’ said the Cat, listening, ‘then my time has come.’

  Next night Cat walked through the Wet Wild Woods and hid very near the Cave till morning-time, and Man and Dog and Horse went hunting. The Woman was busy cooking that morning, and the Baby cried and interrupted. So she carried him outside the Cave and gave him a handful of pebbles to play with. But still the Baby cried.

  Then the Cat put out his paddy paw and patted the Baby on the cheek, and it cooed; and the Cat rubbed against its fat knees and tickled it under its fat chin with his tail. And the Baby laughed; and the Woman heard him and smiled.

  Then the Bat – the little upside-down Bat – that hung in the mouth of the Cave said, ‘O my Hostess and Wife of my Host and Mother of my Host’s Son, a Wild Thing from the Wild Woods is most beautifully playing with your Baby.’

  ‘A blessing on that Wild Thing whoever he may be,’ said the Woman, straightening her back, ‘for I was a busy woman this morning and he has done me a service.’

  That very minute and second, Best Beloved, the dried horse-skin Curtain that was stretched tail-down at the mouth of the Cave fell down – woosh! – because it remembered the bargain she had made with the Cat; and when the Woman went to pick it up – lo and behold! – the Cat was sitting quite comfy inside the Cave.

  ‘O my Enemy and Wife of my En
emy and Mother of my Enemy,’ said the Cat, ‘it is I: for you have spoken a word in my praise, and now I can sit within the Cave for always and always and always. But still I am the cat who walks by himself, and all places are alike to me.’

  The Woman was very angry, and shut her lips tight and took up her spinning-wheel and began to spin.

  But the Baby cried because the Cat had gone away, and the Woman could not hush it, for it struggled and kicked and grew black in the face.

  ‘O my Enemy and Wife of my Enemy and Mother of my Enemy,’ said the Cat, ‘take a strand of the thread that you are spinning and tie it to your spinning-whorl and drag it along the floor, and I will show you a Magic that shall make your Baby laugh as loudly as he is now crying.’

  ‘I will do so,’ said the Woman, ‘because I am at my wits’ end; but I will not thank you for it.’

  She tied the thread to the little clay spindle-whorl and drew it across the floor, and the Cat ran after it and patted it with his paws and rolled head over heels, and tossed it backward over his shoulder and chased it between his hind-legs and pretended to lose it, and pounced down upon it again, till the Baby laughed as loudly as it had been crying, and scrambled after the Cat and frolicked all over the Cave till it grew tired and settled down to sleep with the Cat in its arms.

  ‘Now,’ said Cat, ‘I will sing the Baby a song that shall keep him asleep for an hour.’ And he began to purr, loud and low, low and loud, till the Baby fell fast asleep. The Woman smiled as she looked down upon the two of them, and said, ‘That was wonderfully done. No question but you are very clever, O Cat.’

  That very minute and second, Best Beloved, the smoke of the Fire at the back of the Cave came down in clouds from the roof – puff! – because it remembered the bargain she had made with the Cat; and when it had cleared away – lo and behold! – the Cat was sitting quite comfy close to the fire.

  ‘O my Enemy and Wife of my Enemy and Mother of my Enemy,’ said the Cat, ‘it is I: for you have spoken a second word in my praise, and now I can sit by the warm fire at the back of the Cave for always and always and always. But still I am the Cat who walks by himself, and all places are alike to me.’

  Then the Woman was very very angry, and let down her hair and put more wood on the fire and brought out the broad blade-bone of the shoulder of mutton and began to make a Magic that should prevent her from saying a third word in praise of the Cat. It was not a Singing Magic, Best Beloved, it was a Still Magic; and by and by the Cave grew so still that a little wee-wee mouse crept out of a corner and ran across the floor.

  ‘O my Enemy and Wife of my Enemy and Mother of my Enemy,’ said the Cat, ‘is that little mouse part of your Magic?’

  ‘Ouh! Chee! No indeed!’ said the Woman, and she dropped the blade-bone and jumped upon the footstool in front of the fire and braided up her hair very quick for fear that the mouse should run up it.

  ‘Ah,’ said the Cat, watching, ‘then the mouse will do me no harm if I eat it?’

  ‘No,’ said the Woman, braiding up her hair, ‘eat it quickly and I will ever be grateful to you.’

  Cat made one jump and caught the little mouse, and the Woman said, ‘A hundred thanks. Even the First Friend is not quick enough to catch little mice as you have done. You must be very wise.’

  That very moment and second, O Best Beloved, the Milk-pot that stood by the fire cracked in two pieces – ffft! – because it remembered the bargain she had made with the Cat; and when the Woman jumped down from the footstool – lo and behold! – the Cat was lapping up the warm white milk that lay in one of the broken pieces.

  ‘O my Enemy and Wife of my Enemy and Mother of my Enemy,’ said the Cat, ‘it is I: for you have spoken three words in my praise, and now I can drink the warm white milk three times a day for always and always and always. But still I am the Cat who walks by himself, and all places are alike to me.’

  Then the Woman laughed and set the Cat a bowl of the warm white milk and said, ‘O Cat, you are as clever as a Man, but remember that your bargain was not made with the Man or the Dog, and I do not know what they will do when they come home.’

  ‘What is that to me?’ said the Cat. ‘If I have my place in the Cave by the fire and my warm white milk three times a day I do not care what the Man or the Dog can do.’

  That evening when the Man and the Dog came into the Cave, the Woman told them all the story of the bargain, while the Cat sat by the fire and smiled. Then the Man said, ‘Yes, but he has not made a bargain, with me or with all proper Men after me.’ Then he took off his two leather boots and he took up his little stone axe (that makes three) and he fetched a piece of wood and a hatchet (that is five altogether), and he set them out in a row and he said, ‘Now we will make our bargain. If you do not catch mice when you are in the Cave for always and always and always, I will throw these five things at you whenever I see you, and so shall all proper Men do after me.’

  ‘Ah,’ said the Woman, listening, ‘this is a very clever Cat, but he is not so clever as my Man.’

  The Cat counted the five things (and they looked very knobby) and he said, ‘I will catch mice when I am in the Cave for always and always and always; but still I am the Cat who walks by himself, and all places are alike to me.’

  ‘Not when I am near,’ said the Man. ‘If you had not said that last I would have put all these things away for always and always and always; but now I am going to throw my two boots and my little stone axe (that makes three) at you whenever I meet you. And so shall all proper Men do after me!’

  Then the Dog said, ‘Wait a minute. He has not made a bargain with me or with all proper Dogs after me.’ And he showed his teeth and said, ‘If you are not kind to the Baby while I am in the Cave for always and always and always, I will hunt you till I catch you, and when I catch you I will bite you. And so shall all proper Dogs do after me.’

  ‘Ah,’ said the Woman, listening, ‘this is a very clever Cat, but he is not so clever as the Dog.’

  Cat counted the Dog’s teeth (and they looked very pointed) and he said, ‘I will be kind to the Baby while I am in the Cave, as long as he does not pull my tail too hard, for always and always and always. But still I am the Cat that walks by himself, and all places are alike to me!’

  ‘Not when I am near,’ said the Dog. ‘If you had not said that last I would have shut my mouth for always and always and always; but now I am going to hunt you up a tree whenever I meet you. And so shall all proper Dogs do after me.’

  Then the man threw his two boots and his little stone axe (that makes three) at the Cat, and the Cat ran out of the Cave and the Dog chased him up a tree; and from that day to this, Best Beloved, three proper Men out of five will always throw things at a Cat whenever they meet him, and all proper Dogs will chase him up a tree. But the Cat keeps his side of the bargain too. He will kill mice, and he will be kind to Babies when he is in the house, just as long as they do not pull his tail too hard. But when he has done that, and between times, and when the moon gets up and night comes, he is the Cat that walks by himself, and all places are alike to him. Then he goes out to the Wet Wild Woods or up the Wet Wild Trees or on the Wet Wild Roofs, waving his wild tail and walking by his wild lone.

  ORLANDO’S INVISIBLE PYJAMAS

  by Kathleen Hale

  Do you or any of your friends have a ginger tom cat? He might very well be called Orlando, after the most famous cat in children’s literature, Orlando the Marmalade Cat. They are gorgeous, sophisticated books that you can devour when you’re long past the picture-book stage. I love them all, but I have an especial spot for Orlando’s Invisible Pyjamas. It’s such a tender book. I adore the passage where Orlando’s wife Grace says she will knit him a pair of pyjama trousers that will match his fur exactly because ‘I know your stripes by heart.’

  Until I reread the book today I’d completely forgotten that Orlando’s former girlfriend was a glamorous cat called Queenie. In my book Queenie, that fluffy white Queenie cat has a litter of four kitte
ns at the end of the story. One is ginger, and two are ginger and white, so it’s clear she has a ginger admirer. I wonder if it was Orlando . . .

  ORLANDO’S INVISIBLE PYJAMAS

  Orlando breathed a hole in the frost pattern on the window and watched the thick snow falling softly. It was evening; the three kittens were in bed and his dear wife Grace was knitting cat-traps to protect the robins she loved so much.

  ‘They are such sweet little birds I feel I could eat them,’ she said, ‘but if I hang these nets round the tree trunks, we can’t climb up to catch them.’

  A faint glow of light shone through the swirling snowflakes; it shone from the night-watchman’s lantern on the road.

  ‘He must be lonely sitting out there all night, guarding that big hole the roadmenders are making bigger,’ thought Orlando. ‘I’ll go and have a chat with him and take him a mouse for his supper.’

  He took one from the larder and crept past the sleeping kittens. Tinkle, the black one, opened one eye and said, ‘Hello, Farver, you’ve grown a Moustache!’

  Orlando winked at him and set out on his journey through the snow. To a cat, snow-flakes seemed as large as snowballs; sometimes Orlando disappeared into a drift that would only have reached a little girl’s knee.

  Orlando plodded on till he found Mr Pusey, the night-watchman; the old man was frying his supper.

  ‘Good evening,’ said Orlando.

  ‘Oo,’ replied Mr Pusey, ‘Oi be glad to zee you this murksome night! Oi thought as all folks in the world had been bewitched into snow-flakes – not a soul to be seen, and Oi wondering when the spell would be cast on me.’

  ‘Well,’ said Orlando, ‘here’s a fine mouse for your supper.’ He jumped on to a paraffin can the better to pop it into Mr Pusey’s frying pan.

  ‘Oo! Oi wouldn’t deprive ye!’ the old man said hastily. ‘You have it, me boy!’ He picked the mouse out of the pan quickly. The can tipped over and Orlando fell off; his hind legs and tail were drenched with paraffin.