Well, he walked on and on, and he came to an old hut that had belonged
to a forester. There was nobody there, nor had been for many years,
and the old tom-cat made himself quite at home. He climbed up into
the loft under the roof, and found a little rotten hay.

"A very good bed," says he, and curls up and falls asleep.

When he woke he felt hungry, so he climbed down and went off in the
forest to catch little birds and mice. There were plenty of them in
the forest, and when he had eaten enough he came back to the hut,
climbed into the loft, and spent the night there very comfortably.

You would have thought he would be content. Not he. He was a cat. He
said, "This is a good enough lodging. But I have to catch all my own
food. In the village they fed me every day, and I only caught mice for
fun. I ought to be able to live like that here. A person of my dignity
ought not to have to do all the work for himself."

Next day he went walking in the forest. And as he was walking he met a
fox, a vixen, a very pretty young thing, gay and giddy like all girls.
And the fox saw the cat, and was very much astonished.

"All these years," she said--for though she was young she thought she
had lived a long time--"all these years," she said, "I've lived in
the forest, but I've never seen a wild beast like that before. What a
strange-looking animal! And with only one ear. How handsome!"

And she came up and made her bows to the cat, and said,--