‘Ah, here you are again!’ said the Mouse; ‘you must certainly have had an enjoyable day.’ ‘It went off very well,’ answered the Cat. ‘What was the child’s name?’ asked the Mouse. ‘Top Off,’ said the Cat drily. ‘Topoff!’ echoed the Mouse, ‘it is indeed a wonderful and curious name. Is it in your family?’ ‘What is there odd about it?’ said the Cat. ‘It is not worse than Breadthief, as your godchild is called.’ Not long after this another great longing came over the Cat. She said to the Mouse, ‘You must again be kind enough to look after the house alone, for I have been asked a second time to stand godmother, and as this child has a white ring round its neck, I cannot refuse.’ The kind Mouse agreed, but the Cat slunk under the town wall to the church, and ate up half of the pot of fat. ‘Nothing tastes better,’ said she, ‘than what one eats by oneself,’ and she was very much pleased with her day’s work. When she came home the Mouse asked, ‘What was this child called?’ ‘Half Gone,’ answered the Cat. ‘Halfgone! what a name! I have never heard it in my life. I don’t believe it is in the calendar.’ Soon the Cat’s mouth began to water once more after her licking business. ‘All good things in threes,’ she said to the Mouse; ‘I have again to stand godmother. The child is quite black, and has very white paws, but not a single white hair on its body. This only happens once in two years, so you will let me go out?’ ‘Topoff! Halfgone!’ repeated the Mouse, ‘they are such curious names; they make me very thoughtful.’ ‘Oh, you sit at home in your dark grey coat and your long tail,’ said the Cat, ‘and you get fanciful. That comes of not going out in the day.’ The Mouse had a good cleaning out while the Cat was gone, and made the house tidy; but the greedy Cat ate the fat every bit up. ‘When it is all gone one can be at rest,’ she said to herself, and at night she came home sleek and satisfied. The Mouse asked at once after the third child’s name. ‘It won’t please you any better,’ said the Cat, ‘he was called Clean Gone.’ ‘Cleangone!’ repeated the Mouse. ‘I do not believe that name has been printed any more than the others. Cleangone! What can it mean?’ She shook her head, curled herself up, and went to sleep. From this time on no one asked the Cat to stand godmother; but when the winter came and there was nothing to be got outside, the Mouse remembered their provision and said, ‘Come, Cat, we will go to our pot of fat which we have stored away; it will taste very good.’ ‘Yes, indeed,’ answered the Cat; ‘it will taste as good to you as if you stretched your thin tongue out of the window.’ They started off, and when they reached it they found the pot in its place, but quite empty! ‘Ah,’ said the Mouse,’ ‘now I know what has happened! It has all come out! You are a true friend to me! You have eaten it all when you stood godmother; first the top off, then half of it gone, then----’