Then the boy was furious and forgot entirely how little and helpless he
was now. "Oh! I can pull your tail again, I can," said he, and ran
toward the cat.

The next instant the cat was so changed that the boy could scarcely
believe it was the same animal. Every separate hair on his body stood on
end. The back was bent; the legs had become elongated; the claws scraped
the ground; the tail had grown thick and short; the ears were laid back;
the mouth was frothy; and the eyes were wide open and glistened like
sparks of red fire.

The boy didn't want to let himself be scared by a cat, and he took a
step forward. Then the cat made one spring and landed right on the boy;
knocked him down and stood over him--his forepaws on his chest, and his
jaws wide apart--over his throat.

The boy felt how the sharp claws sank through his vest and shirt and
into his skin; and how the sharp eye-teeth tickled his throat. He
shrieked for help, as loudly as he could, but no one came. He thought
surely that his last hour had come. Then he felt that the cat drew in
his claws and let go the hold on his throat.

"There!" he said, "that will do now. I'll let you go this time, for my
mistress's sake. I only wanted you to know which one of us two has the
power now."

With that the cat walked away--looking as smooth and pious as he did
when he first appeared on the scene. The boy was so crestfallen that he
didn't say a word, but only hurried to the cowhouse to look for the elf.