The Grey Brethren [14]
who, seeing what was happening, changed the Princess into a flea so that the Dreadful Griffin couldn't see her anywhere.
No, if I couldn't tell you before, I certainly must not attempt now to describe the Griffin's behaviour when he found the Princess thus snatched from his jaws. He went grunting and bellowing and screaming along; and just as he was stopping to take breath he heard someone roaring with laughter, and saw a little yellow man sitting on the top bough of a tree.
"Are you laughing at ME?" said the Dreadful Griffin (he was so angry that he was quite polite). And the little man said quite as politely that he certainly WAS.
"Why?" said the Dreadful Griffin, still fearfully polite.
"Because you're such a green Griffin," said the yellow man; and he screamed with laughter again - "I know all about it, you've blued the cats and now the Princess has greened you. She's turned into a flea, and you still want to eat her, and it never occurred to you, you green old grampus of a Griffin, that fleas like CATS. I suppose the Princess flea wouldn't jump on to a tabby kitten, and you couldn't swallow the kitten - oh dear, no - of course not . . . ."
But the Griffin was gone. He went to the Zoo, found a tabby kitten, though they are rare in that country, and flew back with it to the Princess's room.
He waited half an hour and then swallowed the kitten at one gulp; but he instantly burst in four pieces, for the fluffy kitten tickled his digestive organs so much that they cracked his sides and he died; and the flea and the kitten came out quite unhurt, only a little damp.
Then a wonderful thing happened. The tabby kitten changed into the little yellow man who had laughed at the Griffin. He grew, and grew, and in a few minutes he was a handsome prince. His name was Prince Orange Plushikins. One day a cruel witch whom he had offended had changed him into an ugly yellow man, and had sworn that he should only regain his shape if he was eaten by a Griffin when under the form of a tabby kitten; which you know was precisely what happened. Well, Prince Orange Plushikins at once asked the Princess flea to marry him, and the minute the flea said "Yes," the Princess reappeared. She and the Prince were married next morning; and all the cats went to the steam laundry and were washed and bleached and had their tails crimped and their whiskers starched; and they danced at the wedding, and everybody lived happily ever after.
The Discontented Daffodils.
THEY had the very loveliest home you can imagine, with beautiful soft moss and grass to grow in, trees to form a cosy shelter from the wind, and a dear little babbling stream to water them.
There were lots of daffodils in this pretty place, and nobody ever discovered the nook to gather them. They rejoiced in the spring sunshine and gentle breezes, the greeting of the birds, and the musical chatter of the brook; then when their brief visit to the upper world was over they nestled happily down in their warm mossy beds and slept till April came again to wake them.
A little apart from the rest were four daffodils growing at the root of a gnarled oak tree, and one fine sunshiny morning three of them took it into their silly little heads that they were dull, the place was dull, the other daffodils were dull, and they wanted a change.
It was mainly the fault of the cuckoo, for he was a grumbling, mischief-making bird and used to spend a good deal of time talking to the daffodils. This particular spring he had taken up his abode in the oak tree, and was fond of talking of all the grand things he had seen, and a great many he had not seen, for the cuckoo is a bird of fine imagination; and at last, as I have already said, three of the daffodils made up their minds that to be a flower and live in a wood was a very dreadful thing, and not to be put up with any longer.
Now the cuckoo had told many strange tales about creatures with two legs and beautiful coloured leaves which grew in an odd way, and feathers only on their heads. They could not fly,
No, if I couldn't tell you before, I certainly must not attempt now to describe the Griffin's behaviour when he found the Princess thus snatched from his jaws. He went grunting and bellowing and screaming along; and just as he was stopping to take breath he heard someone roaring with laughter, and saw a little yellow man sitting on the top bough of a tree.
"Are you laughing at ME?" said the Dreadful Griffin (he was so angry that he was quite polite). And the little man said quite as politely that he certainly WAS.
"Why?" said the Dreadful Griffin, still fearfully polite.
"Because you're such a green Griffin," said the yellow man; and he screamed with laughter again - "I know all about it, you've blued the cats and now the Princess has greened you. She's turned into a flea, and you still want to eat her, and it never occurred to you, you green old grampus of a Griffin, that fleas like CATS. I suppose the Princess flea wouldn't jump on to a tabby kitten, and you couldn't swallow the kitten - oh dear, no - of course not . . . ."
But the Griffin was gone. He went to the Zoo, found a tabby kitten, though they are rare in that country, and flew back with it to the Princess's room.
He waited half an hour and then swallowed the kitten at one gulp; but he instantly burst in four pieces, for the fluffy kitten tickled his digestive organs so much that they cracked his sides and he died; and the flea and the kitten came out quite unhurt, only a little damp.
Then a wonderful thing happened. The tabby kitten changed into the little yellow man who had laughed at the Griffin. He grew, and grew, and in a few minutes he was a handsome prince. His name was Prince Orange Plushikins. One day a cruel witch whom he had offended had changed him into an ugly yellow man, and had sworn that he should only regain his shape if he was eaten by a Griffin when under the form of a tabby kitten; which you know was precisely what happened. Well, Prince Orange Plushikins at once asked the Princess flea to marry him, and the minute the flea said "Yes," the Princess reappeared. She and the Prince were married next morning; and all the cats went to the steam laundry and were washed and bleached and had their tails crimped and their whiskers starched; and they danced at the wedding, and everybody lived happily ever after.
The Discontented Daffodils.
THEY had the very loveliest home you can imagine, with beautiful soft moss and grass to grow in, trees to form a cosy shelter from the wind, and a dear little babbling stream to water them.
There were lots of daffodils in this pretty place, and nobody ever discovered the nook to gather them. They rejoiced in the spring sunshine and gentle breezes, the greeting of the birds, and the musical chatter of the brook; then when their brief visit to the upper world was over they nestled happily down in their warm mossy beds and slept till April came again to wake them.
A little apart from the rest were four daffodils growing at the root of a gnarled oak tree, and one fine sunshiny morning three of them took it into their silly little heads that they were dull, the place was dull, the other daffodils were dull, and they wanted a change.
It was mainly the fault of the cuckoo, for he was a grumbling, mischief-making bird and used to spend a good deal of time talking to the daffodils. This particular spring he had taken up his abode in the oak tree, and was fond of talking of all the grand things he had seen, and a great many he had not seen, for the cuckoo is a bird of fine imagination; and at last, as I have already said, three of the daffodils made up their minds that to be a flower and live in a wood was a very dreadful thing, and not to be put up with any longer.
Now the cuckoo had told many strange tales about creatures with two legs and beautiful coloured leaves which grew in an odd way, and feathers only on their heads. They could not fly,