Fairytales

The Four Eyed Cat

It was once generally believed by British fishermen that it is unlucky to take a woman to the fishing grounds, allow a woman onto a fishing boat or even to meet a woman on the way to sea. In some places this taboo extends even to mentioning a woman. This superstition persists in a few areas.

Once there was a gentleman had a beautiful daughter who was bad at heart. It was said that she knew more than a Christian ought and the people thereabouts wanted to swim her. This meant they wanted to test her as a suspected witch by casting her into the water to see if she floated – if she floated it was proof she was a witch, if she sank then she was innocent.

However, no one dared swim the suspected witch because of her father. The girl put a spell on a poor fisherman, and he became so in love with her that he followed her wherever she went. Even though he was engaged to be married that week, he deserted his bride-to-be and ran away to see with the gentleman’s daughter. She did this to spite her proud father, but her father thought himself well rid of the spiteful maid.

The fishermen unwittingly took her out with them to the fishing grounds; the only one that knew she was in a fishing boat was her lover who had hidden there. A great storm blew up and the whole fishing fleet were lost and every man drowned. It was said that she had whistled up the storm. She had even drowned her own lover out of spitefulness. Afterwards, she turned into a four-eyed cat and she continued to haunt the fishing fleet. This is why fishermen will never cast their nets before cock-crow (half-past three) and why they always throw a bit back into the sea to appease the cat.

Found at: Moggycats Cat Pages

A Curious Anecdote


In the epic poem known as “The Kalevala” (composed by Elias L”nnrot and first published in 1835, though based on traditional folktales), you will find this curious anecdote…

It seems that a witch decided to one day invite herself into a house that happened to be filled with people. Upon entering this house the witch began to dance around while muttering bizarre incantations, much to the chagrin of all who were present.

All at once, the people found themselves transported onto a sleigh drawn by a giant magical cat. This mysterious cat pulled the sleigh at fantastic speeds until it finally came to “Pohjola”, a place where evil resides in everlasting night, located deep within the hinterlands of Finland.

Why? How come? What did those people ever do to the witch? How did a cat get mixed up in all this, anyhow? And why decide to ask such questions NOW?

Actually, the Finns believed that cats led the souls of the departed through the obstacles of hell onto the glories of heaven.

This motif of “cat-as-guide-to-the-beyond” is rather common. In Egypt there is the story of Bast the cat goddess bringing souls to the underworld. Babylonians believed that the souls of priests were whisked to paradise by the agency of a benevolent cat. So perhaps the Finnish folktale of the witch and the cat-sleigh isn’t so odd after all.

Source

Why the Ashanti Cat Sleeps Inside

…And because of the cat’s loyalty, and the dog’s jealous vindictiveness, the Chief of the tribe uttered these words:

“From this day on cat, you shall sleep inside upon my finest mats, while you, dog, shall continue to sleep out of doors upon the dust of the earth. And when the time comes that we feast, O cat, thou shall eat of the same food as we, being a worthy and noble being. But you, dog, shall learn to be content and satisfied with what scraps we choose to toss you.”

Paraphrased from an Ashanti legend.

Source

How Pussy Willows Got Their Name


Many springtimes ago, according to an old Polish legend, tiny kittens were chasing butterflies along the edge of the river and fell in. The mother cat, helpless to save them, started crying. The willows at the river’s edge swept their long, graceful branches into the water towards the kittens. The kittens gripped the branches tightly and were rescued.

Each springtime since, goes the legend, willow branches sprout tiny fur-like buds where the tiny kittens once clung.

 

How Cats Got Their Purr


There once lived a king and queen who longed for a baby daughter. Finally, just as they were giving up hope, the queen bore a girl child and the king and queen were the happiest people on earth. Only one thing marred their contentment. A gypsy witch had read the queen’s fortune in return for some food from the royal kitchen and she had predicted that the child would be a girl. The gypsy had given the queen a dire warning and in anger the king had driven the old crone from his land. The old woman’s warning weighed heavily on their hearts.

The old witch had said: “You will bear a daughter and she will be strong and healthy. However, she will fall dead if she ever gives her hand in marriage to a prince. Heed my advice. Find three pure white cats, with not a single white hair upon them, and let them grow up with your child. Give the cats balls of two types to play with – balls of gold and balls of linen thread. If they ignore the gold and play with the linen, all will be well, but should they ignore the linen and choose the gold, beware!”

The king sent out a royal decree and his subjects offered him cats and kittens of all types – tabby cats, ginger tomcats, tortoiseshell mother cats still nursing their kittens; he was offered black kittens, grey kittens and ginger kittens. All of these he sent away again, being only interested in three pure cats. After years of searching, three white cats without a single white hair were duly found and though they came from different places, they became good friends. The three cats loved their young mistress and she adored them. As the months turned into years, the linen balls continued to be the only toys the cats chose to play with. The gold balls lay dusty and forgotten.

When the princess grew old enough to learn how to spin the cats were happy as she was. They leaped at the wheel as it turned and at the thread as the princess spun it, behaving like kittens. She begged her playful cats to leave things alone but they ignored her and continued to play gaily. The queen was so happy that the cats played only with the linen balls and never with the gold balls that she simply laughed at their antics and frolics.

At sixteen years old, the princess was very beautiful. Princes from neighbouring kingdoms and further afield asked her hand in marriage, but she remained indifferent to them all. She was content to live with her three beloved cats. One day, however, a prince arrived who was good and charming, wise and handsome, kind and virtuous and the princess fell deeply in love with him. Though he brought her gifts and visited often, he never once asked for her hand in marriage. One day she could bear it no longer and she confessed her love for him. Delighted and surprise, he expressed his own love for her.

The three white cats were in the tower room playing with the linen balls, but no sooner had the prince and princess professed their love for each other, than the cats seemed to notice the gold balls for the first time ever and began to play with them. In horror, servants reported the dire news to the king and queen. However, it wasn’t the princess who was struck down but the prince. He became gravely ill and nothing the physicians did could ease or cure whatever malady had struck him down.

In desperation the princess sought the gypsy who had made the prophecy about the cats and balls. The gypsy witch told her that there was only one way to save the prince. The princess must spin ten thousand skeins of pure white linen thread before midwinter’s day. It was an impossible task – only 27 days remained before midwinter’s day. No hand but hers could spin the thread and if she span but one skein too few, or one too many, the prince would die at midwinter. The princess rushed to her spinning wheel and worked steadily day after day, but after only a few days she knew she could never spin ten thousand skeins. She burst into tears and her three cats sat by her feet to comfort and console her.

“If you only knew what was wrong I know you’d help me if you could,” she said to the three silent white cats at her feet.

To her amazement, one of the three placed its front paws on her knee, stared into the princess’s face, opened its mouth and spoke to her: “We know what is needed and we know how to help you,” it said. “Cats have no hands, only paws, so we can do the spinning for you and it will not break the terms of the prophecy. Now we must get to work for there is little time left.”

And so it was that the three white cats began to spin, each at a wheel provided for it. Each spun rapidly and beautifully. All day the three wheels hummed and when they were silent as evening came the princess looked into the room to find her beloved cats sound asleep next to hundreds of skeins of thread. The days passed and the skeins increased in number. Each time a skein was finished, the prince’s health improved and the princess grew more hopeful. On midwinter’s eve ten thousand skeins were ready and the prince was almost well.

The gypsy was amazed and please at the cats’ work though she had been cheated of a life. She told the princess to be sure and show her gratitude to her faithful cats. The princess loved her cats well and wisely and she gave them all her glittering jewels, which they had always loved to play with. On her wedding day, they sat in places of honour on magnificent velvet cushions, each cat with a necklace of precious stones around its neck.

As the feast continued, the three cats curled up contentedly on their cushions and – as cats are wont to do – fell asleep. From all three came loud, contented purring. This was the reward the cats had received for their work. Though no cat would ever again speak, all cats would purr like the whirr and hum of a spinning wheel. From that day to this cats have continued to purr whenever they feel contented.

Traditional British Fairy Tale

The King of the Cats

Here’s a great cat story from Ancient Legends, Mystic Charms, and Superstitions of Ireland, by Lady Francesca Speranza Wilde, published in 1887.

A most important personage in feline history is the King of the Cats. He may be in your house a common looking fellow enough, with no distinguishing mark of exalted rank about him, so that it is very difficult to verify his genuine claims to royalty. Therefore the best way is to cut off a tiny little bit of his ear. If he is really the royal personage, he will immediately speak out and declare who he is; and perhaps, at the same the, tell you some very disagreeable truths about yourself, not at all pleasant to have discussed by the house cat.

A man once, in a fit of passion, cut off the head of the domestic pussy, and threw it on the fire. On which the head exclaimed, in a fierce voice, “Go tell your wife that you have cut off the head of the King of the Cats; but wait! I shall come back and be avenged for this insult,” and the eyes of the cat glared at him horribly from the fire.

And so it happened; for that day year, while the master of the house was playing with a pet kitten, it suddenly flew at his throat and bit him so severely that he died soon after.

A story is current also, that one night an old woman was sitting up very late spinning, when a knocking came to the door. “Who is there?” she asked. No answer; but still the knocking went on. “‘Who is there?” she asked a second the. No answer; and the knocking continued. “Who is there?” she asked the third time, in a very angry passion.

Then there came a small voice–“Ah, Judy, agrah, let me in,–for I am cold and hungry; open the door, Judy, agrah, and let me sit by the fire, for the night is cold out here. Judy, agrah, let me in, let me in!”

The heart of Judy was touched, for she thought it was some small child that had lost its way, and she rose up from her spinning, and went and opened the door–when in walked a large black cat with a white breast, and two white kittens after her.

They all made over to the fire and began to warm and dry themselves, purring all the time very loudly; but Judy said never a word, only went on spinning.

Then the black cat spoke at last–“Judy, agrah, don’t stay up so late again, for the fairies wanted to hold a council here tonight, and to have some supper, but you have prevented them; so they were very angry and determined to kill you, and only for myself and my two daughters here you would be dead by this time. So take my advice, don’t interfere with the fairy hours again, for the night is theirs, and they hate to look on the face of a mortal when they are out for pleasure or business. So I ran on to tell you, and now give me a drink of milk, for I must be off.”

And after the milk was finished the cat stood up, and called her daughters to come away.

“Good-night, Judy, agrah,” she said. “You have been very civil to me, and I’ll not forget it to you. Good-night, good night.”

With that the black cat and the two kittens whisked up the chimney; but Judy looking down saw something glittering on the hearth, and taking it up she found it was a piece of silver, more than she ever could make in a month by her spinning, and she was glad in her heart, and never again sat up so late to interfere with the fairy hours, but the black cat and her daughters came no more again to the house.

Borrowed from: Widdershins

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“Time spent with a cat is never wasted.”

― Colette

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