The only friend and companion the old woman had was her gray cat. Now, the cat was a middle-aged cat: she had arrived at a time of life when people grow reflective; and she sat by the hearth and reflected very often. What did she reflect about? That is rather a long story. You must know, then, that a few leagues from the old woman’s hut, at the other end of the forest, there rose a grand castle, belonging to a very great baron. And sometimes, on fine summer mornings, as the old woman and the cat were sitting in the sunshine, by the door, the old woman at her spinning-wheel, and puss curled up for a nap after her breakfast, the forest would suddenly ring with the sound of hunting-horns, shouts, and laughter; and a train of gay ladies and richly dressed gentlemen would sweep by on horseback, with hawk and hound, and followed by servants in splendid liveries; for the Baron was fond of hawking and hunting, and frequently took those diversions in the neighboring forests. Now, it so happened that in one of the tall trees behind the cottage there lived a magpie, not by any means an ordinary magpie, but a bird that had seen a good deal of the world; indeed, at one time of her life, she had, as she took care to inform everybody, lived in the service of the Countess von Rustenfustenmustencrustenberg. How she happened to leave such a grand situation, the magpie never explained: to be sure, some ill-natured people did say that there had been an awkward story about the loss of one of the Countess’s diamond bracelets, which was found one fine morning in the inside of a hollow tree in the garden; and that Mag was turned away in disgrace directly. But how the matter really was I cannot say; all I know is, that she took up her abode halfway up one of the large oaks, behind the old woman’s hut, a long time before our story begins; and that, being of a particularly sociable and chatty disposition, she soon established an ardent friendship with the cat, and they became the greatest cronies in the world. So when, as I said just now, the Baron’s grand hunting parties swept past, they afforded the magpie a fine opportunity for displaying her knowledge of life and the world. And sometimes, too, she would dwell at great length on the splendor and happiness she had enjoyed while she lived with the Countess in her Palace, till the cat’s fur almost stood on end to hear the wonders she related. What a place that Palace must have been! Very different, indeed, from the old woman’s cottage.