In an instant he woke up in his right senses.
Then he jumped out of bed, ran across the room
and opened the door, and the Fairies vanished.
And they have never been seen from that day to
this.
THE KING OF THE CATS
AN ENGLISH FOLK-TALE
BY ERNEST RHYS
Once upon a time there were two brothers who
lived in a lonely house in a very lonely part of
Scotland. An old woman used to do the cooking,
and there was no one else, unless we count her
cat and their own dogs, within miles of them.
One autumn afternoon the elder of the two,
whom we will call Elshender, said he would not
go out; so the younger one, Fergus, went alone to
follow the path where they had been shooting the
day before, far across the mountains.
He meant to return home before the early
sunset; however, he did not do so, and Elshender
became very uneasy as he watched and waited
in vain till long after their usual supper-time.
At last Fergus returned, wet and exhausted, nor
did he explain why he was so late.
But after supper when the two brothers were
seated before the fire, on which the peat crackled
cheerfully, the dogs lying at their feet, and the old
woman's black cat sitting gravely with half-shut
eyes on the hearth between them, Fergus recovered
himself and began to tell his adventures.
``You must be wondering,'' said he, ``what
made me so late.
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