MISS MOUSE. What did you name him?

CAT. I gave him an unusual name. I will tell you what it is. First, though,
run out to see if your dear mother is coming.

[_Miss Mouse nods and runs out. The Cat creeps to the grease-pot and eats
half the fat; then crosses to window._ MISS MOUSE _returns._]

MISS MOUSE. Mother is nowhere to be seen. Now what did you name your second
child?

CAT. Half-out.

Miss MOUSE. Half-out? I never heard such a name! 'T is not in the calendar,
I'm sure.

CAT. What does that matter, if it pleases me? Now the last child is really
a wonder. He is quite black and has little white claws, but not a single
white hair on his body.

MISS MOUSE. What have you named him?

CAT. I'm afraid that will please you no better than the others, but still I
will tell you. First, though, run to see if your dear mother is not coming.

[_Miss Mouse nods and runs out. The Cat creeps to the pot and eats all the
fat. She then crosses to the window._]

CAT. What one begins one must needs finish.