at day to visit him; but who, hearing that the
king with the princess and a great gentleman of the court were within
had not dared to enter.

The king was so much charmed with the amiable qualities and noble
fortune of the Marquis of Carabas, and the young princess too had fallen
so violently in love with him, that when the king had partaken of the
collation, and drank a few glasses of wine, he said to the Marquis, "It
will be your own fault, my lord Marquis of Carabas, if you do not soon
become my son-in-law."

The Marquis received the intelligence with a thousand respectful
acknowledgments, accepted the honour conferred upon him, and married the
princess that very day.

The cat became a great lord, and never again ran after rats and mice but
for his amusement.

WHITTINGTON AND HIS CAT.

In the reign of the famous King Edward the Third, there was a little boy
called Dick Whittington, whose father and mother died when he was very
young, so that he remembered nothing at all about them, and was left a
dirty little fellow running about a country village. As poor Dick was
not old enough to work, he was in a sorry plight; he got but little for
his dinner, and sometimes nothing at all for his breakfast; for the
people who lived in the village were very poor themselves, and could
spare him little more than the parings of potatoes, and now and then a
hard crust.

For all this, Dick Whittington was a very sharp boy, and was always
listening to what every one talked about.

On Sundays he never failed to get near the farmers, as they sat talking
on the tombstones in the church-yard, before the parson was come: and
once a week you might be sure to see little Dick leaning against the
sign-post of the village ale-house, where people stopped to drink as
they came from the next market-town; and whenever the barber's shop-door
was open, Dick listened to all the news he told his customers.

In this manner, Dick heard of the great city called London; how the
people who lived there were all fine gentlemen and ladies; that there
were singing and music in it all day long; and that the streets were
paved all over with gold.

One day a waggoner, with a large waggon and eight horses, all with bells
at their heads, drove through the village while Dick was lounging near
his favourite sign-post. The thought immediately struck him that it must
be going to the fine town of London; and taking courage, he asked the
waggoner to let