1 88 The Book of Cats. 



" ^ Why, I haven't got any,' rephed Tom, who, 

 to tell the truth, was as thin as a hurdle. 



" ' You may have, though, if you say the word,' 

 said the magician ; ' and I'll tell you how.' 



" You see, he knew from experience that Tom was 

 a Cat who was capable of making flesh, for he had 

 known him as round as a dumpling ; so he made 

 this bargain : — ' He offered Tom a whole month's 

 luxurious living on condition that at the expiration 

 of that time he should voluntarily lay down his life 

 and yield up all the fat he had acquired during the 

 four weeks. Of course Tom agreed, and the con- 

 tract was signed on the spot. The apartment pro- 

 vided for Tom's lodging was ' fitted up as an 

 artificial landscape. A little wood was perched on 

 the top of a little mountain, which rose from the 

 banks of a little lake. On the branches of the trees 

 were perched dainty birds, all roasted, and emitting 

 a most savoury odour. From the cavities of 

 the mountain peered forth sundry baked mice, all 

 seasoned with delicious stufifing and exquisitely 

 larded with bacon. The lake consisted of the 

 newest milk, with a small fish or two at the bottom. 

 Thus, to the enjoyment of the epicure, was added 

 the excitement of imaginary sportsmanship. Tom 

 ate his fill, and more, and soon became as fat as the 



