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"Nay, petite chatte, you know I think you the loveliest creature at Saint Germain or the Louvre, far surpassing in beauty the Cardinal's niece, who has managed to set young Louis' heart throbbing with a boyish passion. But I doubt you bestow too much care on the cherishing of a gift so fleeting." "You have said the word, sir. 'Tis because it is so fleeting I must needs take care of my beauty.
Various comical situations are brought about by Diccon, a thieving vagabond, who tells Gammer that her neighbor, Dame Chatte, has taken her needle, and who then hurries to tell Dame Chatte that she is accused by Gammer of stealing a favorite rooster. Naturally there is a terrible row when the two irate old women meet and misunderstand each other.
Diccon also drags Doctor Rat, the curate, into the quarrel by telling him that, if he will but creep into Dame Chatte's cottage by a hidden way, he will find her using the stolen needle. Then Diccon secretly warns Dame Chatte that Gammer Gurton's man Hodge is coming to steal her chickens; and the old woman hides in the dark passage and cudgels the curate soundly with the door bar.
"Perhaps it doesn't understand English," thought Alice. "I dare say it's a French mouse, come over with William the Conqueror." So she began again: "Où est ma chatte?" which was the first sentence in her French lesson-book. The Mouse gave a sudden leap out of the water, and seemed to quiver all over with fright.
Yes, though Miss Daisy Nelson looked even prettier than I thought her last night, I could quite believe the bilious maid's statement that she was une petite chatte.
'Ma chatte, you have made me positively adorable, she would say, peering at her reflection in the ivory hand-mirror, a dazzling image of rouge and bismuth, carmined lips, diamonds, and frizzy yellow hair; 'I verily believe I look under thirty but do not you think this gown is a thought too decolletée un peu trop de peau, hein? 'Not for you, Lady Kirkbank, with your fine shoulders.
She came flying downstairs in her pretty silken deshabille, with her hair streaming, and flung her arm round her aunt's neck. "Ma chatte, where have you been?" "On the terrace." "Fi donc, menteuse! I saw you and my father land at the west stairs, five minutes ago." "We had been looking at the fire." "And never offered to take me with you! What a greedy pig!"
So she began again, "ou est ma chatte?" which was the first sentence in her French lesson book. The Mouse gave a sudden leap out of the water, and seemed to quiver all over with fright. "Oh, I beg your pardon!" cried Alice hastily, afraid that she had hurt the poor animal's feeling. "I quite forgot you don't like cats." "Not like cats!" cried the Mouse, in a shrill, passionate voice.
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