English / C1
The King o’ the Cats
On a winter evening, the church caretaker’s wife sat beside the fire, with their large black cat, Old Tom, on the other side. Both were half asleep, waiting for her husband to return. They waited and waited, but there was no sign of him until he finally rushed in, asking, with extraordinary agitation, “Who’s Tom Tildrum?”
His wife and the cat stared at him. What had happened, she wanted to know, and why was he so anxious to find out about Tom Tildrum?
He had had the strangest adventure, he said. While digging old Mr Fordyce’s grave, he supposed he must have dropped off to sleep. What woke him was a cat’s cry.
“Meow!” said Old Tom.
“Yes, just like that!” the man replied. He had looked over the edge of the grave, and what did his wife imagine he had seen?
She asked how she could possibly tell. He had seen nine black cats, he said, all resembling their own Tom, with white patches on their chests. Eight of them carried a small coffin, draped in black velvet, with a little golden crown resting on the covering. The largest cat walked in front. Every third step, the whole company cried out together.
“Meow!” said Old Tom again.
“Yes, just like that!” His eyes had gradually made out more of the approaching procession, the man continued, because the cats’ eyes shone with a green light. Eight bore the coffin; the great cat in front led the way. But there was something about their own Tom’s expression that kept drawing his attention. The animal was looking at him as though it understood every word.
His wife told him to go on and leave Old Tom alone.
The cats had continued towards him, slowly and solemnly, their shared cry marking every third step. As he repeated the sound, Old Tom answered with another meow. Eventually, the procession stopped directly opposite the grave where he was working. All nine cats stood still and looked straight at him.
It had made him feel decidedly strange, he admitted. And there was Tom looking at him now in precisely the same fashion. Once again, his wife insisted that he finish the story instead of being distracted by the cat.
The man picked up his account. The one cat that was not carrying the coffin had stepped forward and fixed its eyes on him. Then it spoke. Not merely cried or made a noise, he insisted, but spoke in a high, squeaky voice: “Tell Tom Tildrum that Tim Toldrum’s dead.”
That, he explained, was the reason for his peculiar question on entering the house. He was meant to tell Tom Tildrum that Tim Toldrum had died, but how could he deliver such a message when he had no idea who Tom Tildrum was?
“Look at Old Tom!” his wife screamed.
There was good reason to look. The cat was swelling and staring, until at last it shrieked, “What—old Tim dead! Then I’m the King of the Cats!”
With that announcement, Old Tom rushed up the chimney and disappeared. He was never seen again.
English summary · includes the ending
On a winter evening, a woman and her black cat, Old Tom, wait by the fire for her husband. He finally rushes home asking who Tom Tildrum is. While digging a grave, he thinks he fell asleep and woke to a cat’s cry.
He saw nine black cats approaching with a small coffin. Eight carried it, while the largest walked in front. A golden crown lay on its black covering, and the cats cried together every third step. As he describes their cries, Old Tom repeatedly answers with a meow.
The leading cat told the man to tell Tom Tildrum that Tim Toldrum was dead. The man cannot deliver the message because he does not know Tom Tildrum.
Suddenly, Old Tom speaks. Learning of Tim’s death, he declares that he is now the King of the Cats. He rushes up the chimney and is never seen again.
Adapted for Lejrbål from the credited source.
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