hung with beautiful
tapestry, the curtains were of the richest crimson silk, all over
golden flowers, the mirrors reached from the floor to the ceiling, and
the chairs were of ebony inlaid with precious stones. And the princess
had two hundred and four best gowns, some of cloth of gold, some of
silver tissue; besides a great many others, nearly as good, that she
wore every day.

But my story has not so much to do with the princess, as with her
_cats_, for she had two; an elderly one, called Glumdalkin, and a very
frolicsome young one whose name was Friskarina. Glumdalkin was,
somehow or other, second cousin once removed to Friskarina, but years
older; and, to say the truth, Friskarina was not very fond of her:
however, in consideration of her age and relationship, she behaved on
the whole very civilly and respectfully to her. They were so very
different. And there was not the least family likeness, either, in
their persons. Glumdalkin was jet black, had an uncommonly cross pair
of green eyes, that seemed always on the look-out for something going
wrong, was very fat, and moved as if it was too much trouble to her to
walk across the room; while Friskarina's coat was of the richest
tortoise-shell, and though she was quite plump, and as sleek as
satin, yet there was not a more lively little creature in all Catland;
it quite did one good to see her jumping over the foot-stools in the
princess's drawing-room. She had a prodigious longing, sometimes, to
jump over cousin Glum's great broad back, as she sat before the fire;
but she knew _that_ would never do, so she was prudent, and contented
herself with scampering over the furniture; while Glumdalkin,
pretending to be sound asleep all the time, would be watching her with
one eye open the least bit in the world, and secretly wishing that
Friskarina might be unlucky enough to dash down one of the princess's
old china jars that stood under the table.

It was a cold winter's evening--_very_ cold--and the pages had drawn
the thick crimson curtains in the drawing-room, and the fire had been
mended, and was piled high up, blazing and crackling; the candles were
lighted, and Glumdalkin's velvet cushion had been placed ready for her
in front of the fire, and she was slowly crawling towards it, that
she might stretch herself out at full length, and digest the wing of a
boiled fowl that she had just been dining upon. The princess was lying
on the sofa by the side of the fire, apparent