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Fairytale lovers of all ages, will enjoy this collection of timeless classics, as Ms. Rae takes you into the woods and to far off places.
SPEAKER_04: Welcome to Forget Me
Not Fairy Tales.
Classic stories for book lovers
of all ages.
Let's begin.
The Tale of Samuel Whiskers.
Or The Rolly Poly Pudding.
Written by Beatrix Potter.
Once upon a time, there was an
old cat called Mrs.
Tabitha Twitchit, who was an
anxious fairy.
She used to lose her kittens
continually, and whenever they
were lost, they were always in
mischief.
On baking day, she determined to
shut them up in a cupboard.
She caught Moppet and Mittens,
but she could not find Tom.
Mrs.
Tabitha went up and down all
over the house, mewing for Tom
Pitt.
She looked in the pantry under
the staircase, and she searched
the best spare bedroom that was
all covered up with dust sheets.
She went right upstairs and
looked into the attic.
But she could not find him
anywhere.
It was an old, old house, full
of cupboards and passages.
Some of the walls were four feet
thick, and there used to be
queer noises inside them.
As if there might be a little
secret staircase.
Certainly, there were odd little
jagged doorways in the Wainscot,
and things disappeared at night,
especially cheese and bacon.
Mrs.
Tabitha became more and more
distracted and mewed dreadfully.
While their mother was searching
the house, Moppet and Mittens
had got into mischief.
The cupboard door was not
locked, so they pushed it open
and came out.
They went straight to the dough,
which was set to rise in a pan
before the fire.
SPEAKER_03: They patted it with
their little soft paws.
Shall we make dear little
muffin?
SPEAKER_04: said Mittens to
Moppet.
But just at that moment,
somebody knocked at the front
door, and Moppet jumped into the
flower barrel in a fright.
Mittens ran away to the dairy
and hid in an empty jar on the
stone shelf where the milk can
stand.
The visitor was a neighbor, Mrs.
Ribby.
She had called to borrow some
yeast.
Mrs.
Tabitha came downstairs mewing
dreadfully.
SPEAKER_01: Meow!
SPEAKER_04: Come in, cousin
Ribby.
Come in and sit ye down.
I'm in sad trouble, cousin
Ribby, said Tabitha, shedding
tears.
I've lost my dear son Thomas.
I'm afraid the rats have got
him.
She wiped her eyes with her
apron.
He's a bad kitten, cousin
Tabitha.
He made a cat's cradle of my
best bonnet last time I came to
tea.
Where have you looked for him?
SPEAKER_01: Ow! All over the
house!
SPEAKER_04: The rats are too
many for me.
What a thing it is to have an
unruly family, said Mrs.
Tabitha Twitch.
I will help you to find him and
whip him too.
What is all that soot in the
fender?
The chimney wants sweeping.
SPEAKER_02: Oh dear me, cousin
Ribby! Now Moppet and Mattens
are gone! They have both got out
of the cupboard.
SPEAKER_04: Ribby and Tabitha
set to work to search the house
thoroughly again.
They poked under the beds with
Ribby's umbrella and they rubbed
in cupboards.
They even fetched a candle and
looked inside a clothes chest in
one of the attics.
They could not find anything.
But once they heard a door bang
and somebody scuttered
downstairs.
Yes, it is infested with rats,
said Tabitha tearfully.
I caught seven young ones out of
one hole in the back kitchen.
And we had them for dinner last
Saturday.
And once I saw the old father
rat.
Ugh! An enormous old rat, Cousin
Ribby.
I was just going to jump upon
him when he showed his yellow
teeth at me and whisked down the
hole.
The rats get upon my nerves,
cousin Ribby, said Tabitha.
Ribby and Tabitha searched and
searched.
They both heard a curious
roly-bolly noise under the attic
floor.
But there was nothing to be
seen.
They returned to the kitchen.
Here's one of your kittens at
least, said Ribby, dragging
Moppet out of the flour barrel.
They shook the flower off her
and set her down on the kitchen
floor.
She seemed to be in a terrible
fright.
Oh, mother, mother, said Moppet.
There's been an old woman rat in
the kitchen, and she stolen some
of the dough.
The two cats ran to look at the
dough pan.
Sure enough, there were marks of
little scratching fingers, and a
lump of dough was gone.
Which way did she go, Moppet?
Moppet had been too much
frightened to peep out of the
barrel again.
Ribby and Tabitha took her with
them to keep her safely in
sight.
While they went on with their
search.
They went into the dairy.
The first thing they found was
mittens hiding in an empty jar.
They tipped up the jar and she
scrambled out.
SPEAKER_02: Oh, mother, mother,
said Mittens.
Oh mother, mother, there has
been an old man rat in the
dairy.
SPEAKER_04: A dreadful, enormous
big rat, mother, and he's stolen
a pat of butter and the rolling
pin.
Ribby and Tabitha looked at one
another.
Oh a roly pin and butter?
Oh my poor son Thomas! exclaimed
Tabitha, wringing her paws.
A rolling pin?
SPEAKER_01: said Ribby.
SPEAKER_04: Did we not hear a
roly-poly noise in the attic
when we were looking into that
chest?
Ribby and Tabitha rushed
upstairs again.
Sure enough, the roly-poly noise
was still going on quite
distinctly under the attic
floor.
This is serious, cousin Tabitha,
said Ribby.
We must send for John Joyner at
once with a saw.
Now, this is what had been
happening to Tom Kitten.
And it shows how very unwise it
is to go up a chimney in a very
old house where a person does
not know his way and where there
are enormous rats.
Tom Kitten did not want to be
shut up in a cupboard.
When he saw that his mother was
going to bake, he determined to
hide.
He looked about for a nice,
convenient place, and he fixed
upon the chimney.
The fire had only just been
lighted, and it was not hot.
But there was a white choky
smoke from the green sticks.
Tom Kitten got upon the fender
and looked up.
It was a big old-fashioned
fireplace.
The chimney itself was wide
enough inside for a man to stand
up and walk about.
So there was plenty of room for
a little Tom Cat.
He jumped right up into the
fireplace, balancing himself
upon the iron bar where the
kettle hangs.
Tom Kitten took another big jump
off the bar and landed on a
ledge high up inside the
chimney, knocking down some soot
into the fender.
Tom Kitten coughed and choked
with the smoke, and he could
hear the sticks beginning to
crackle and burn in the
fireplace down below.
He made up his mind to climb
right to the top and get out on
the slates and try to catch
sparrows.
I cannot go back.
If I slept, I might fall in the
fire and cinch my beautiful tail
and my little blue coat.
The chimney was a very big,
old-fashioned one.
It was built in the days when
people burnt logs of wood upon
the hearth.
The chimney stack stood up above
the roof like a little stone
tower, and the daylight shone
down from the top under the
slanting slates that kept out
the rain.
Tom Kitten was getting very
frightened.
He climbed up and up and up.
Then he waded sideways through
inches of soot.
He was like a little sweep
himself.
It was most confusing in the
dark.
One flue seemed to lead into
another.
There was less smoke, but Tom
Kitten felt quite lost.
He scrambled up and up, but
before he reached the chimney
top, he came to a place where
somebody had loosened a stone in
the wall.
There were some mutton bones
lying about.
And what a funny smell! It is
something like mouse, only
dreadfully strong.
It makes me sneeze, said Tom
Kitten.
He squeezed through the hole in
the wall and dragged himself
along a most uncomfortably tight
passage where there was scarcely
any light.
He groped his way carefully for
several yards.
He was at the back of the sturdy
board in the attic, where there
is a little mark in the picture.
All at once he fell head over
heels in the dark down a hole
and landed on a heap of very
dirty rags.
When Tom Kitten picked himself
up and looked about him, he
found himself in a place that he
had never seen before, although
he had lived all his life in the
house.
It was a very small, stuffy,
fusty room with boards and
rafters and cobwebs and lap and
plaster.
Opposite to him, as far away as
he could sit, was an enormous
rat.
What do you mean by tumbling
into my bed all covered with
smuts?
said the rat, shattering his
teeth.
Uh, please, sir.
The chimney wants sweeping, said
poor Tom Kitten.
Anna Maria! Anna Maria! squeaked
the rat.
There was a pattering noise, and
an old woman rat poked her head
round a raptor.
All in a minute, she rushed upon
Tom Kitten, and before he knew
what was happening, his coat was
pulled off, and he was rolled up
in a bundle and tied with string
in very hard knots.
Anna Maria did the tying.
The old rat watched her and took
snuff.
When she had finished, they both
sat staring at him with their
mouths open.
Anna Maria, said the old man
rat, whose name was Samuel
Whiskers.
Anna Maria, make me a kitten
dumpling.
Rolly poly pudding for my
dinner.
It requires dough and a pat of
butter and a rolling pin, said
Anna Maria, considering Tom
Kitten with her head on one
side.
No, said Samuel Whiskers.
Make it properly, Anna Maria,
with breadcrumbs.
Nonsense.
Butter and dough, replied Anta
Maria.
The two rats consulted together
for a few minutes and then went
away.
Samuel Whiskers got through a
hole in the wainscot and went
boldly down the front staircase
to the dairy to get the butter.
He did not meet anybody.
He made a second journey for the
rolling pan.
He pushed it in front of him
with his paws, like a brewer's
man trundling a barrel.
He could hear Ribby and Tabitha
talking, but they were busy
lighting the candle to look into
the chest.
They did not see him.
Anna Maria went down by the way
of the scurrying board and a
window shutter to the kitchen to
steal the dough.
She borrowed a small saucer and
scooped up the dough with her
paws.
She did not observe Moppet,
while Tom Kitten was left alone
under the floor of the attic.
He wriggled about and tried to
mew for help.
But his mouth was full of soot
and cobwebs.
And he was tied up in such very
tight knots.
He could not make anybody hear
him.
Except the spider, which came
out of a crack in the ceiling
and examined the knots
critically from a safe distance.
It was a judge of nuts because
it had a habit of tying up
unfortunate blue bottles.
It did not offer to assist him.
Tom Kitten wriggled and squirmed
until he was quite exhausted.
Presently, the rats came back
and set to work to make him into
a dumpling.
First, they smeared him with
butter, and then they rolled him
in the dough.
Will not the string be very
indigestible, Anna Maria?
inquired Samuel Whiskers.
Anna Maria said she thought it
was of no consequence, but she
wished that Tom Kitten would
hold his head still as it
disarranged the pastry.
She laid hold of his ears.
Tom Kitten bit and spat and
mewed and wriggled, and the roly
pin went roly poly roly, roly
poly roly.
The rat each held an end.
His tail is sticky now.
You did not fetch enough dough,
Anna Maria.
I fetched as much as I could
carry, replied Anna Maria.
I do not think, said Samuel
Whiskers, pausing to take a look
at Tom Kenton.
I do not think it will be a good
pudding.
It smells sooty.
Anna Maria was about to argue
the point when all at once there
began to be other sounds up
above.
The rasping noise of a saw.
And the noise of a little dog
scratching and yelping.
The rats dropped the rolling pin
and listened attentively.
We are discovered and
interrupted, Anna Maria.
Let us collect our property and
the other peoples and depart at
once.
I fear that we shall be obliged
to leave this pudding.
But I am persuaded that the
knots would have proved
indigestible, whatever you may
urge the contrary.
Come away at once and help me to
tie up some mutton bones in a
counterpane, said Anna Maria.
I have got half a smoked ham
hidden in the chimney.
So it happened that by the time
John Joyner had got the plank
up, there was nobody under the
floor except the rolling pin and
Tom Kitten and a very dirty
dumpling.
But there was a strong smell of
rats, and John Joyner spent the
rest of the morning sniffing and
whining and wagging his tail and
going round and round with his
head in the hole like a gimlet.
Then he nailed the plank down
again and put his tools in his
bag and came downstairs.
The cat family had quite
recovered.
They invited him to stay to
dinner.
The dumpling had been peeled off
Tom Kitten and made separately
into a bag pudding with currants
in it to hide the smooch.
They had been obliged to put Tom
Kitten into a hot bath to get
the butter off.
John Joiner smelt the pudding,
but he regretted that he had not
time to stay to dinner because
he had just finished making a
wheelbarrow for Miss Potter and
she had ordered two pin coops.
And when I was going to the post
late in the afternoon, I looked
up the lane from the corner and
I saw Mr.
Samuel Whiskers and his wife on
the run with big bundles on a
little wheelbarrow, which looked
very like mine.
They were just turning in at the
gate to the barn of Farmer
Potatoes.
Samuel Whiskers was puffing and
out of breath.
Anna Maria was still arguing in
shrill tones.
She seemed to know her way, and
she seemed to have a quantity of
luggage.
I am sure I never gave her leave
to borrow my wheelbarrow.
They went into the barn and
hauled their parcels with a bit
of string to the top of the hang
mug.
After that, there were no more
rats for a long time at Tabitha
Twitchit's.
As for Farmer Potatoes, he has
been driven nearly distracted.
There are rats and rats and rats
in his barn.
They eat up the chicken food and
steal the oats and bran and make
holes in the mealbags.
And they are all descended from
Mr.
and Mrs.
Samuel Whiskers.
Children and grandchildren and
great-great-grandchildren.
There is no end to them.
Moppet and Mittens have grown up
into very good rat catchers.
They go out rat catching in the
village and they find plenty of
employment.
They charge so much a dozen and
earn their living very
comfortably.
Dozens and dozens of them.
But Tom Kinton has always been
afraid of a rat.
He never dures face anything
that is bigger than a mouse.
The Inn.
Fairy tales contain many morals.
One lesson from this story is:
don't go looking for trouble.
Because when you find trouble,
it will be more of a problem
than you had thought.