Knjigice
Fairy tale · Animal stories
Millions of Cats
The story of the old man and the old woman who wanted one little cat
Also in: Milijoni mačk (Slovenian) · Milióny mačiek (Slovak)
Once upon a time a very old man and a very old woman lived in a little house among the sunny hills. The house was neat, flowers bloomed at the windows, but inside it was very quiet. "How lovely it would be if we had a cat," sighed the old woman. "Just one small, soft little cat." — "Then I shall find you one," said the old man, put on his hat and marched off over the hills.
1
The old man walked a long, long way — over sunny hills, through cool valleys, past brooks and meadows — until he came to a hill that was covered, completely covered, with cats. Hundreds of cats, thousands of cats, millions and billions and trillions of cats! White and black, grey and brown, spotted and striped — wherever he looked, nothing but cats.
2
"This white one is the prettiest," said the old man, and picked it up. But then he saw a grey one with a fluffy tail. "No, this one is the prettiest!" Then a black-and-white one, then a yellow one, then a striped one... Each seemed the prettiest of all, and he could not leave one behind. So in the end he took them — every last one.
3
And off they went home. In front the old man, smiling into his moustache; behind him the cats: hundreds of cats, thousands of cats, millions and billions and trillions of cats! Like a long, long river they wound over the hills and valleys. The hills were white and grey and black and brown with cats, and their meowing could be heard all the way up to the sky.
4
They came to a pond. "Meow, meow! We are thirsty!" cried the cats. "Drink away," said the old man, "there is water enough for everyone." Each cat took only one sip. But there were hundreds of cats, thousands of cats, millions and billions and trillions of them — and soon the pond was empty to the very last drop. "Well now," marveled the old man, "not even a puddle left."
5
Then they crossed the grassy hills. "Meow, meow! We are hungry!" cried the cats. "Eat away," said the old man, "there is grass everywhere." Each cat ate only one mouthful of grass. But there were so very many cats that soon the hills were grazed quite bare — bare as a swept floor. Toward evening they saw the old man's little house far away.
6
The old woman stood in front of the house and watched a sea of cats come rolling over the hills. "My dear, what are we to do with them?" she cried. "We can never feed them all — they will eat up the whole house! I wanted just one little cat." She thought and told the cats: "Let the prettiest one stay. Tell us — which one of you is the prettiest?"
7
"I am!" — "No, I am!" — "I AM!" cried all the cats at once, for every single one was sure that she was the prettiest. And there began a quarrel such as the hills had never heard. They hissed and scratched, they yowled and rolled about in one great heap. The old man and the old woman ran into the house and shut the door tight.
8
Outside the noise grew and grew, till they had to cover their ears — then all at once everything went still. They peeped carefully out of the door: and when the dust had settled, the cats were gone. "They must have eaten each other all up in that terrible quarrel," said the old man. "What a pity," sighed the old woman. "I would have kept one after all."
9
But look — something rustled softly in the tall grass by the house. There crouched a small skinny kitten, grey with white paws, trembling with fright. "You stayed?" said the old woman in wonder. "I never said I was pretty," the kitten meowed quietly. "So nobody bothered with me." The old woman gathered her up and carried her inside.
10
They gave her milk and made her a soft cushion, and every day the old man brushed her little coat. The kitten grew rounder and rounder, glossier and happier. "I have seen millions and billions and trillions of cats," said the old man, "and not one was as pretty as this one of ours." And she truly was the most beautiful cat in the whole world.
11The End
