Prevod

A cat had made the acquaintance of a mouse and talked so much about the great love and friendship she felt for her that at last the mouse agreed to live with her in one house and keep house together. "But we must lay in provisions for the winter, or we shall go hungry," said the cat. "You, little mouse, cannot venture everywhere, or you may end up in a trap." This good advice was followed, and they bought a little pot of fat. But they did not know where to keep it. At last, after much thought, the cat said, "I know no safer place than the church. No one dares steal anything there. We shall put it under the altar and not touch it until we need it." So the little pot was put away safely. Before long, however, the cat began to crave it and said to the mouse, "Something I meant to tell you, little mouse: my cousin has asked me to be godmother. She has brought a little son into the world, white with brown spots, and I am to hold him at his christening. Let me go out today, and look after the house by yourself!" "Yes, yes," answered the mouse, "go, and God be with you! If you eat anything nice, remember me! I should dearly like a drop of that sweet red wine they serve at feasts!" But none of it was true. The cat had no cousin and had not been asked to be godmother. She went straight to the church, crept up to the little pot, and licked off the skin on top of the fat. Then she took a stroll over the rooftops of the town, stretched out in the sun, and wiped her whiskers whenever she thought of the little pot of fat. It was not until evening that she came home. "Well, there you are again!" said the mouse. "You must have had a merry day." "It was pleasant enough," answered the cat. "And what name was the child given?" asked the mouse. "Top-Off," said the cat quite dryly. "Top-Off!" cried the mouse. "What a strange name! Does it run in your family?" "What of it?" said the cat. "It is no worse than Crumb-Thief, the name your godchildren are given."

Not long afterward, the cat was seized by another craving. She said to the mouse, "You must do me a kindness and look after the house alone once more. I have been asked to be godmother a second time, and as the child has a white ring around his neck, I cannot refuse." The good mouse agreed, but the cat slipped along behind the town wall to the church and ate half the pot of fat. "Nothing tastes better," she said, "than what you eat yourself," and she was quite pleased with her day's work. When she came home, the mouse asked, "And what was this child christened?" "Half-Gone," answered the cat. "Half-Gone! You don't say! Never in all my life have I heard that name. I'll wager it is not in the calendar."

Soon the cat's mouth was watering for the treat again. "All good things come in threes," she said to the mouse. "I am to be godmother once more. The child is quite black, with only white paws and not another white hair on his whole body. That only happens once every few years. You will let me go out, won't you?" "Top-Off, Half-Gone," answered the mouse. "They are strange names. They give me something to think about." "There you sit at home in your dark-grey shaggy coat, with your long pigtail," said the cat, "and fill your head with fancies. That is what comes of never going out in the daytime!" While the cat was away, the mouse tidied up and put the house in order; but the greedy cat ate the pot of fat quite clean. "Once it is all eaten, one can rest easy," she said to herself, and it was not until night that she came home, full and fat. The mouse at once asked what name the third child had been given. "You probably won't like this one either," said the cat. "His name is All-Gone." "All-Gone!" cried the mouse. "That is the most troubling name of all. I have never even seen it in print. All-Gone! What can it mean?" She shook her head, curled up, and went to sleep.

From then on, no one asked the cat to be godmother again. But when winter came and there was nothing more to be found outside, the mouse remembered their store of food and said, "Come, Cat, let us go to the pot of fat we have saved! How good it will taste!" "Indeed," replied the cat, "it will taste just as good as if you stuck your dainty tongue out of the window." They set off, and when they arrived, the pot was still in its place, but it was empty. "Oh," said the mouse, "now I see what has happened! Now the truth comes out. What a true friend you are! You ate it all while you pretended to be standing godmother: first the top off, then half gone, then..." "Will you be quiet!" cried the cat. "One more word, and I shall eat you up!"

"All gone" was already on the poor mouse's tongue. Scarcely had she said it when the cat sprang at her, seized her, and swallowed her down. You see, that is the way of the world.