Chinatowns -- Pacific States -- Fiction; Chinese Americans -- Fiction; Short stories
“It is sitting on the sunny side of the garden wall, watching the
butterflies. It meowed for three of the prettiest to fall into its
mouth, and would you believe it, that is just what happened. A green, a
blue, a pink shaded with gold, all went down pussy’s red throat.”
The princess smiled. “What about the cat?” she questioned her second
maid.
“She is seated in your honorable father’s chair of state, and your
honorable father’s first body-slave is scratching her back with your
father’s own back-scratcher, made of the purest gold and ivory.”
The princess laughed outright. She pattered gracefully into another
room. There she saw the youngest daughter of her foster-mother.
“What about the cat?” she asked for the third time.
“The cat! Oh, she has gone to Shinku’s duck farm. The ducks love her so
that when they see her, they swim to shore and embrace her with their
wings. Four of them combined to make a raft and she got upon their backs
and went down-stream with them. They met some of the ducklings on the
way and she patted them to death with her paws. How the big ducks
quacked!”
“That is a good story,” quoth the princess.
She went into the garden and, seeing one of the gardeners, said: “What
about the cat?”
“It is frisking somewhere under the cherry tree, but you would not know
it if you saw it,” replied the gardener.
“Why?” asked the princess.
“Because, Your Highness, I gave it a strong worm porridge for its
dinner, and as soon as it ate it, its white fur coat became a glossy
green, striped with black. It looks like a giant caterpillar, and all
the little caterpillars are going to hold a festival tonight in its
honor.”
“Deary me! What a great cat!” exclaimed the princess.
A little further on she met one of the chamberlains of the palace. “What
about the cat?” she asked.
“It is dancing in the ballroom in a dress of elegant cobwebs and a
necklace of pearl rice. For partner, she has the yellow dragon in the
hall, come to life, and they take such pretty steps together that all
who behold them shriek in ecstasy. Three little mice hold up her train
as she dances, and another sits perched on the tip of the dragon’s
curled tail.”
At this the princess quivered like a willow tree and was obliged to seek
her apartments. When there, she recovered herself, and placing a blossom
on her exquisite eyebrow, commanded that all those of whom she had
inquired concerning the cat should be brought before her. When they
appeared she looked at them very severely and said:
“You have all told me different stories when I have asked you: ‘What
about the cat?’ Which of these stories is true?”
No one answered. All trembled and paled.
“They are all untrue,” announced the princess.
She lifted her arm and there crawled out of her sleeve her white cat. It
had been there all the time.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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