Karel Capek Fairy Tales - With One Extra as a Makeweight and Illustrated by Joseph Capek

1

A Long Tale About a Cat

I

How the King Bought a Cat

ONCE upon a time, in the Land of Scamps, there ruled a King, and we can say that he reigned happily, because all his subjects obeyed him willingly and loyally when they had to. But from time to time there was one exception, and that was his little daughter the Princess.

The King warned her seriously that she must not play with her ball on the castle stairs; but what do you think? Whenever her nanny shut her eyes for forty winks, the Princess was at once on the stairs with her ball. It may have been God’s punishment, or perhaps Satan tripped her up; anyway she fell down, and hurt her knee. Then she sat on the stairs and cried—if she had not been a princess we could say that she howled the place down. In a jiffy all the ladies-in-waiting rushed to help, carrying bowls of clearest crystal, and bandages of silk; besides that there were ten royal doctors, and three royal chaplains, but none of them could take her pain away.

Then an old granny came hobbling along, and when she saw the Princess crying on the stairs she knelt down before her, and said gently: Don’t cry, Princess. Supposing I brought you an animal which has emerald eyes, but no one ever steals them, whiskers as long as this, but it’s not a man, fur which sparkles, but never catches fire, paws of silk, but it never wears them out, and in its pockets sixteen knives, but it never uses them to cut its meat. If I brought you that you wouldn’t cry, would you?

The Princess looked at the granny in astonishment; tears still glistened in one blue eye, but the other was already smiling with joy. But, granny, she said, there isn’t such an animal in the world.

But there is, said the granny, if the King will only give me what I want for it, I’ll bring it at once. Having said that she slowly pottered away.

The Princess remained sitting on the stairs, but she didn’t cry any more, she only wondered what the animal could possibly be. Then she began to feel sorry for herself because it was not hers already, and the granny would not bring her anything, and so she began to cry again plaintively. As it happened the King was just looking out of the window; he wanted to know why the Princess had cried so much, and so he saw and heard everything. When he saw how the granny soothed her so nicely, he sat down again on his throne, with his ministers and councillors around him, but the thought of the animal stuck in his head. He kept on repeating to himself: It’s got emerald eyes, but nobody ever steals them, whiskers as long as this, but it’s not a man, fur which sparkles, but it never catches fire, paws of silk, but it never wears them out, and in its pockets sixteen knives, but it never uses them to eat its meat; what is it? When the ministers saw that the King kept on whispering to himself and nodding his head, gesticulating as if he had long whiskers on his chin, they could not understand what was the matter with him, and at last the aged chancellor asked him what it was.

I am trying to think, said the King, what the animal is: ‘it’s got emerald eyes, but nobody ever steals them; whiskers as long as this, but it’s not a man; fur which sparkles, but it never catches fire, paws of silk, but it never wears them out, and in its pockets sixteen knives, but it never uses them to cut its meat; what is it’?

Now it was the ministers’ and councillors’ turn to nod their heads and gesticulate as if they had long whiskers on their chins, but nobody could guess what it was. At last the aged chancellor answered for them all, and just like the Princess he exclaimed: But, Your Majesty, there isn’t such an animal in all the world.

The King, however, would not listen, and he sent his fastest messenger after the granny. The messenger flew on his horse, till sparks shot out from under his hoofs, and see! the granny was sitting in front of her cottage.

Granny, the messenger shouted from his horse. His Majesty the King must have that animal.

He shall have what he wants, the granny replied, if he will give me as many crowns of the finest silver as go under the bonnet of his mammy.

The messenger flew back to the palace, and the cloud of dust rose to the sky.

Your Majesty, he announced, the granny will bring the animal if you will give her as many crowns of the finest silver as go under the bonnet of your mammy.

That won’t be much, thought the King, and he swore a great oath that he would give the granny that number of crowns; but he went straight away to his mammy. Mammy, he said, we are going to have a visitor. Put on that nice little bonnet of yours, the tiniest of them all, that only covers the bob of your hair. And the old mother did what he said.

So the granny came to the palace, carrying a basket on her back, neatly tied over with a shawl. The King, with his mammy, and the small Princess, was already waiting in the big hall; all the ministers, privy-councillors, generals, and presidents were there as well, breathless with curiosity. Very very slowly the granny untied her scarf; even the King himself stepped down from his throne to get a close view of the animal. At last the granny pulled the scarf away, then out of the basket sprang a black cat, and with one bound it sat on the throne.

But, granny, cried the King in disappointment, you are cheating us; it’s only a cat!

The granny put her arms akimbo: What! you think I’m cheating you? Look there, she exclaimed, pointing to the cat. The cat was sitting on the throne, its eyes shone green like the finest emeralds. Just look, said the granny, and see if its eyes aren’t emerald; and nobody steals them, Your Majesty; it’s got whiskers too, but it’s not a man.

But, objected the King, it has a black fur coat, which doesn’t sparkle.

Just you wait, protested the granny; then she stroked the cat, rubbing the fur the wrong way on. Really you could hear it crackling, like small electric sparks. And its paws, went on the granny, are silky ones. Even the young Princess, if she went barefoot, and on tiptoe, couldn’t walk more silently.

All right then, said the King, giving in, but still it has no pocket, or sixteen knives.

The pockets, the granny said, are on its paws, and in each it’s got a sharp knife, a claw. Just count them, and see if there aren’t sixteen.

The King then beckoned to the aged chancellor to come forward and count the cat’s claws. The chancellor bent down over the cat, and caught it by a leg so that he could count properly; but the cat just spat, and quick as lightning it slashed him just near the eye.

The chancellor sprang up again, with his hand over his eye and said: My eyes are weak, Your Majesty, but I think it has many claws. I’m quite sure about four of them.

Then the King beckoned the first chamberlain to count its claws. The chamberlain caught hold of the cat so that he could count properly, but at once he jumped up, all red, clutching his nose, and said: There must be twelve of them, Your Majesty, all told. I’ve counted eight, four on each side.

Then the King beckoned his chief president to count the cat’s claws; but as soon as that venerable gentleman bent over the cat he jumped up again stroking his chin, which was badly scratched, and said: They’re sixteen really sharp ones, Your Majesty, I’ve just counted the remaining four.

Well, well, what am I to do! sighed the King. Now I suppose I must pay for that cat. But upon my word, granny, you are a scamp!

So the King had to ask for the silver crowns to be placed on the table; then he took the tiniest bonnet from his mammy’s head, and put it over the crowns. It was so small that it only covered five of them.

Here you are, granny, here are your five crowns, and God bless you, said the King, very glad to get off so cheaply.

But the granny wagged her head, and said: That wasn’t the agreement, Your Majesty. You ought to give me as many crowns of the finest silver as go under your mammy’s bonnet.

But you see, replied the King, only five crowns of the finest silver go under the bonnet.

The granny took the bonnet in her hand, patted it, turning it round in her hand, and said slowly: I think that the silver hairs of your mammy are the finest silver in the world.

The King looked at the granny, then he looked at his mammy, and said gently: You’re right, granny.

Then the granny placed the bonnet carefully on the head of the King’s mammy, stroked her white hair, and said: And now, Your Majesty, you are to give me as many crowns as there are silver hairs under your mammy’s bonnet.

The King was very astonished; he frowned, but at last he smiled, and said: But, granny, you are the greatest rogue of the whole lot.

However, children, an oath is an oath, so the King had to pay the granny what she asked. So he told his mammy to sit down, and ordered his chief accountant to find out how many silver hairs would go under the bonnet. The accountant kept on counting and counting, and the King’s mammy sat still very nicely without moving; and then—old age, you know, is fond of sleep, and easily falls into a nap—in other words, the King’s mammy went fast asleep.

While she slept like that the accountant counted one hair after the other; and when he had counted exactly a thousand, perhaps because he tugged harder, the King’s mammy woke.

Hi, she cried, why do you wake me? I’ve had a very strange dream; I dreamt that the future king had just crossed the frontier of our land.

The granny jumped. That’s strange, she stammered out, only to-day my little grandson came to live with me from the next kingdom.

But the King would not listen, and cried out: From where, mammy, from what place will the future king come? From which royal court?

That I don’t know, said the King’s mammy, just because you woke me.

In the meantime the chief accountant went on counting, and the King’s mammy fell asleep again. He kept on counting, and when he had got to two thousand, he gave another tug, a hard tug, at a silver hair.

But, children, cried the King’s mammy, why do you wake me? I’ve just dreamt that no one else will bring the new king here but this black cat.

Get along with you, mammy, said the King in astonishment, who’s ever heard of a cat bringing anyone into a house?

Brow, I said, the King’s mammy declared, but let me sleep now.

So again the King’s mammy fell asleep, and again the accountant went on counting. When he got to the three-thousandth, which was the last, his hand shook, and in spite of himself he gave a strong tug.

Oh, you naughty people! cried the King’s mammy. You won’t allow an old woman to have a wink of sleep. I’ve just dreamt that the future king will come here with his whole house.

Well, mammy, you must excuse me, said the King, but this can hardly be true. Who could ever bring a whole castle with him?

Don’t talk through your hat, boy, his mammy reprimanded him. You never know what may happen.

You’re right, nodded the granny. Your mother speaks the truth, Your Majesty. A gipsy woman once prophesied to my late husband, God give him peace in heaven: ‘There will come a time when a cock will pick up your whole estate’; and daddy, poor soul, burst into laughter, and said: ‘You know, gipsy, that will hardly come true’—just like you, Your Majesty.

What! the King asked anxiously. It wasn’t true, was it?

The granny began to wipe her eyes. Well, one day a red cock came flying, that is, the fire, and picked up everything. After that daddy walked about like as if he had lost his senses, and kept on saying: ‘The gipsy woman was right! The gipsy woman was right!’ And now, poor soul, he has been for twenty years in God’s keeping.

And then the granny began to cry; but the King’s mammy placed her hand round her neck, stroked her cheek, and said: Don’t cry, granny, or I shall begin to cry myself.

At that the King became frightened, and so he soon began to make the money tinkle. He placed on the table one crown after another, until he had put out three thousand, just as many as the silver hairs which went under the bonnet of his mammy. So, granny, he said, here you are, and God bless you; a man would never get rich with you about.

The granny laughed, and they all laughed with her, and then she began to push the crowns into her big pocket. What a pocket she had! She had to shovel the crowns into the basket, and it was so heavy with them that she couldn’t lift it. Two generals, and the King himself, had to help her to lift it on to her back, and then she bowed nicely to them all, said good-bye to the King’s mammy, and then she just glanced round to have a last look at her black cat Susan. But Susan was nowhere to be seen. The granny turned round and round, crying: Puss, puss, but the cat said nothing. Behind the throne, however, some little legs were sticking out; the granny stole up on tiptoe, and saw the Princess fast asleep in a corner behind the throne, and on her knees the precious Susan was quietly purring. Then the granny reached for her pocket, and slipped a crown into the Princess’s palm; but if she wanted to give it to her as a souvenir, she was badly mistaken, because when the Princess woke, and found the cat on her knees, and a crown in her hand, she picked the cat up in her arms and went straight away to buy some sweets. But perhaps the granny even knew about that.

While the Princess was still asleep the granny had been at home for a long time, well pleased because she had got so much money, and because she had left Susan in such good hands, and still more because the carrier had just brought her grandson Johnny from the neighbouring kingdom.

II

The Things a Cat Knows How to Do

WELL, as you know, that cat’s name was Susan, but the Princess called it many other names besides: Pussy, Tibby, Toots, and Taffy, Kitty, and Fluff, Blackie, Darkie, Topsy, and Sweet, Cinders, and Smut. You can see that she liked it very much. As soon as she opened her eyes in the morning she found Puss on her eiderdown: Susan, the lazy beggar, was nestling there, and purred so that it looked as if she were really doing something. Then they both washed together—the cat, of course, much more thoroughly, even if only with paw and tongue; and she remained clean long after the Princess had made herself dirty, in as complete and varied a manner as only children know how to.

But all the same Susan was a cat, just like any other, only she loved to curl up and have a nap on the King’s throne, a thing which doesn’t usually happen with other cats. At times like that, perhaps, she might remember that her remote uncle, the lion, was the king of all animals. Perhaps she was not remembering at all; a mouse had only just to stick its head out of a hole—with one single bound Susan had it, and proudly went to lay it at the foot of the throne, even if it happened to be in front of the biggest and most solemn assembly.

Once the King had to settle a dispute between two noblemen. They stood together before the throne, and quarrelled fiercely because each one thought he was in the right. When the quarrel was at its height Susan came