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does that matter,' said the cat, 'it is no worse than Crumb-stealer,
as your godchildren are called.'

Before long the cat was seized by another fit of yearning. She said to
the mouse: 'You must do me a favour, and once more manage the house
for a day alone. I am again asked to be godmother, and, as the child
has a white ring round its neck, I cannot refuse.' The good mouse
consented, but the cat crept behind the town walls to the church, and
devoured half the pot of fat. 'Nothing ever seems so good as what one
keeps to oneself,' said she, and was quite satisfied with her day's
work. When she went home the mouse inquired: 'And what was the child
christened?' 'Half-done,' answered the cat. 'Half-done! What are you
saying? I never heard the name in my life, I'll wager anything it is
not in the calendar!'

The cat's mouth soon began to water for some more licking. 'All good
things go in threes,' said she, 'I am asked to stand godmother again.
The child is quite black, only it has white paws, but with that
exception, it has not a single white hair on its whole body; this only
happens once every few years, you will let me go, won't you?' 'Top-
off! Half-done!' answered the mouse, 'they are such odd names, they
make me very thoughtful.' 'You sit at home,' said the cat, 'in your
dark-grey fur coat and long tail, and are filled with fancies, that's
because you do not go out in the daytime.' During the cat's absence
the mouse cleaned the house, and put it in order, but the greedy cat
entirely emptied the pot of fat. 'When everything is eaten up one has
some peace,' said she to herself, and well filled and fat she did not
return home till night. The mouse at once asked what name had been
given to the third child. 'It will not please you more than the
others,' said the cat. 'He is called All-gone.' 'All-gone,' cried the
mouse 'that is the most suspicious name of all! I have never seen it
in print. All-gone; what can that mean?' and she shook her head,
curled herself up, and lay down to sleep.

From this time forth no one invited the cat to be godmother, but when
the winter had come and there was no longer anything to be found
outside, the mouse thought of their provision, and said: 'Come, cat,
we will go to our pot of fat which we have stored up for ourselves--we
shall enjoy that.' 'Yes,' answered the cat, 'you will enjoy it as much
as you would enjoy sticking that dainty tongue of yours out of the
window.' They set out on their way, but when they arrived, the pot of
fat certainly was still in its place, but it was empty. 'Alas!' said
the mouse, 'now I see what has happened, now it comes to light! You a
true friend! You have devoured all when you were standing godmother.
First top off, then half-done, then--' 'Will you hold your tongue,'
cried the cat, 'one word more, and I will eat you too.' 'All-gone' was
already on the poor mouse's lips; scarcely had she spoken it before
the cat sprang on her, seized her, and swallowed her down.

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