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Entry 136; Day 307
Mar. 5th, 2008 06:55 pmA strange day, a strange day, indeed. So many familiar faces from so many familiar tales, somehow.
Oh, but news.
Hah! Tim Toldrum died, and then Tom Tildrum died, and now I am the king of the cats.
No, no, don't ask me how Tom Tildrum died. I'm sure I don't know at all.Nevermind the drink that killed the horse whose flesh killed the ravens whose bodies killed the ogres, no. I only know what the sexton said, coming back from the graveyard: that he saw a coffin, draped with black velvet, and a coronet on top, and all the cats around it yowling. And one told him to go and spread the news that Tom Tildrum had died, and there would be a new king of the cats. He might not have known who Tom Tildrum was, but I do.
Now, who shall be my queen? The king is made king and he must take a queen. Suzette, Suzette, the fairest, she. You shall be queen of the cats. You shall sit beside me on my throne. And you shall have a gown the color of the weather that will fit you exactly, and it will be delivered to you on the morrow. And Riff shall carry me about on a velvet pillow, sewn with gold. And he shall have a coat made from feathers of all the birds in the world, and it shall carry him through the sky whenever he wishes. And I shall make Merry a princess of cats. And she shall wear a gown as brilliant as the sun and a crown carved of one massive pearl.
And we shall all live happily ever after.
Oh, but the sexton has no appreciation for the news he received--such a tale of it. Foolish sexton. And here, I, just the cat, sneaked in from the cold--not even his cat, but finding my place in warmth and shadow. Far and away better than chasing after the 'Marquis de Carabas', and I'm twice as clever than Puss, I know. Such a tale, his.
I know them all, believe me. I was curled up in the shadows when Marlinchen knocked her brother's head off and her mother made his body into pudding. But she buried the bones under the juniper tree and the boy came back to life.
It was, of course, her mother's fault. And that's why her brother dropped the millstone on her head. But to Marlinchen he gave red shoes. And to his father, who ate the puddings his mother made from his body when his sister knocked off his head, he gave a golden chain.
But to his step-mother he gave a millstone. And they buried her under the juniper tree.
Oh ho ho, yes, I know that tale well too. I saw it, and heard it, and I heard it again. Everyone knows the cat by the hearth hears all.
So do mind what you say.
~C.
[ooc: Cain thinks he's the King of the Cats. I wanted to use the cat icon again I think. Feel free to see him sneaking about, or looking self-important. He's out looking around, of course. He's...not typing like a cat this time because, uh, he's magic... >>;;]
Oh, but news.
Hah! Tim Toldrum died, and then Tom Tildrum died, and now I am the king of the cats.
No, no, don't ask me how Tom Tildrum died. I'm sure I don't know at all.
Now, who shall be my queen? The king is made king and he must take a queen. Suzette, Suzette, the fairest, she. You shall be queen of the cats. You shall sit beside me on my throne. And you shall have a gown the color of the weather that will fit you exactly, and it will be delivered to you on the morrow. And Riff shall carry me about on a velvet pillow, sewn with gold. And he shall have a coat made from feathers of all the birds in the world, and it shall carry him through the sky whenever he wishes. And I shall make Merry a princess of cats. And she shall wear a gown as brilliant as the sun and a crown carved of one massive pearl.
And we shall all live happily ever after.
Oh, but the sexton has no appreciation for the news he received--such a tale of it. Foolish sexton. And here, I, just the cat, sneaked in from the cold--not even his cat, but finding my place in warmth and shadow. Far and away better than chasing after the 'Marquis de Carabas', and I'm twice as clever than Puss, I know. Such a tale, his.
I know them all, believe me. I was curled up in the shadows when Marlinchen knocked her brother's head off and her mother made his body into pudding. But she buried the bones under the juniper tree and the boy came back to life.
It was, of course, her mother's fault. And that's why her brother dropped the millstone on her head. But to Marlinchen he gave red shoes. And to his father, who ate the puddings his mother made from his body when his sister knocked off his head, he gave a golden chain.
But to his step-mother he gave a millstone. And they buried her under the juniper tree.
Oh ho ho, yes, I know that tale well too. I saw it, and heard it, and I heard it again. Everyone knows the cat by the hearth hears all.
So do mind what you say.
~C.
[ooc: Cain thinks he's the King of the Cats. I wanted to use the cat icon again I think. Feel free to see him sneaking about, or looking self-important. He's out looking around, of course. He's...not typing like a cat this time because, uh, he's magic... >>;;]