Here lived an old woman, with her Cat and her Hen. And the Cat, whom she
called Sonnie, could arch his back and purr; he could even give out
sparks--but for that, one had to stroke his fur the wrong way. The Hen
had quite small, short legs, and therefore she was called Chickabiddy
Shortshanks; she laid good eggs, and the woman loved her as her
own child.

In the morning they noticed at once the strange Duckling, and the Cat
began to purr and the Hen to cluck.

"What's this?" said the woman, and looked all around; but she could not
see well, and therefore she thought the Duckling was a fat duck that had
strayed. "This is a rare prize!" she said. "Now I shall have duck's
eggs. I hope it is not a drake. We must try that."

And so the Duckling was taken on trial for three weeks, but no eggs
came. And the Cat was master of the house, and the Hen was the lady, and
always said "We and the world!" for they thought they were half the
world, and by far the better half. It seemed to the Duckling that one
might have another mind, but the Hen would not allow it.

"Can you lay eggs?"

"No."

"Then will you hold your tongue!"

And the Cat said, "Can you curve your back, and purr, and give out
sparks?"