“Oh yes! Yes! Do! Pray do! Won’t you do it? Say you will! Say you will!” cried many voices. “I think it will be fun to do it,” said cousin Lucia, “if you allow me to put in some make believe and nonsense, if I want to.” “Certainly!” was the cry. “Put in anything. Anything you please!” Cousin Lucia said she was willing to try, and thus it happened that the summer-children and others got a story book beginning, as all story books should begin, with—once upon a time. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [Illustration: King Grimalkum and Pussyanita; OR, The Cats’ Arabian Nights. ] ONCE upon a time the aged Tommobus, King of the Cats, went forth a hunting and returned with a wound which caused his death. So Tommobus died and Grimalkum the Powerful became King in his stead. King Grimalkum was of course jet black all over without a single white hair, or he could not have been made king, and his eyes were of the true royal yellow. The first act of King Grimalkum’s reign was one of cruelty. He sent forth an order declaring that black, maltese, and gray, were the only colors to be allowed for cats, and that all cats which were white or yellow, or which had more white or yellow hairs than dark ones should not be permitted to live. Judges were appointed to measure the spots. This order caused great affright among the lighter cats. The wholly white and wholly yellow hid themselves or fled to distant places, and the partly white and partly yellow went in haste to have their dark spots measured by the judges. Among those who came before the judges was Pussyanita, a beautiful creature just out of kittenhood. Her playfulness and sweet disposition made her beloved by all. Alas! it was soon made known by the judges that the dark of Pussyanita measured many less hairs than her white ones. This caused great sorrow, and King Grimalkum was begged to spare her life. “Spare her life! Not if she were twenty Pussyanitas!” cried the King; which was a foolish answer, since she could not have been twenty Pussyanitas, or even nineteen. Now this sweet and gentle creature was so much beloved, that no one could be found willing to hurt a single hair of her. When King Grimalkum heard this he became furious with anger, and commanded that she be brought to him at once, saying that he himself would attend to the business, and make quick work of it. So the lovely Pussyanita was brought before the King. Her loveliness did not soften his heart; on the contrary he was made more furious than ever by seeing that she sat licking her fur as quietly as if sitting in her own sunny garden spot. “What are you doing that for, you silly thing?” he cried. “Don’t you know you have but a few moments to live?”