you creaking for, door?"

"May I not creak?" it replied.

"The little spider scalded herself,
And the flea weeps."

So a broom sweeps, a little cart runs, ashes burn furiously, a tree
shakes off its leaves, a maiden breaks her pitcher, and a streamlet
begins to flow until it swallows up the little girl, the little tree,
the ashes, the cart, the broom, the door, the flea, and, last of all,
the spider, all together.[15]

The first Italian version of this story which we shall mention is from
Sicily (Pitre, No. 134), and is called:

LXXXII. THE CAT AND THE MOUSE.

Once upon a time there was a cat that wanted to get married. So she
stood on a corner, and every one who passed by said: "Little Cat, what's
the matter?" "What's the matter? I want to marry." A dog passed by and
said: "Do you want me?" "When I see how you can sing." The dog said:
"Bow, wow!" "Fy! What horrid singing! I don't want you." A pig passed.
"Do you want me, Little Cat?" "When I see how you sing." "Uh! uh!" "Fy!
You are horrid! Go away! I don't want you." A calf passed and said:
"Little Cat, will you take me?" "When I see how you sing." "Uhm!" "Go
away, for you are horrid! What do you want of me?" A mouse passed by:
"Little Cat, what are you doing?" "I am going to get married." "Will you
take me?" "And how can you sing?" "Ziu, ziu!" The cat accepted him, and
said: "Let us go and be married, for you please me." So they were
married.

One day the cat went to buy some pastry, and left the mouse at home.
"Don't stir out, for I am going to buy some pastry." The mouse went into
the kitchen, saw the pot on the fire, and crept into it, for he wanted
to eat the beans. But he did not; for the pot began to boil, and the
mouse stayed there. The cat came back and began to cry; but the mouse
did not appear. So the cat put the pastry in the pot for dinner. When it
was ready the cat ate, and put some on a plate for the mouse, also. When
she took out the pastry she saw the mouse stuck fast in it. "Ah! my
little mouse! ah! my little mouse!" so she went and sat behind the door,
lamenting the mouse.

"What is the matter," said the door, "that you are scratching yourself
so and tearing out your hair?"

The cat said: "What is the matter? My mouse is dead, and so I tear my
hair."

The door answered: "And I, as door, will slam."

In the door was a window, which said: "What's the matter, door, that you
are slamming?"

"The mouse died, the cat is tearing