The tale, which returned my faith in the limitless power of good



- Where's the girl? - Attacked the cat Baba Yaga. - Only that there was, where were?
- Udrrrala - purred the cat, licking his paw.
- How - I ran away? - Baba Yaga was taken aback. - She could not get away! You sit here for what? There had been attacked her and to scratch!
- I mean, what business, the owner ... - cat stared thoughtfully at his claws - she gave me a cream.
- Do you?
- Mnne.
- Smetana?
- Mnyam.
- But is there so you can? And you eat ?!
- So what? - A cat stretched and yawned. - I've already serve almost one hundred years, and you did not even yogurt poured. And here - cream!
- I forbid you!
- I love you, the owner, very much respect - pulled the cat ears - but I respect too sour.
- And that instead of gratitude! - She shook her head Yaga. - There is an old lady to say thank you for a hundred years that you have lived. Even sour reproach! Do you even know how many cats live on average?
- Oh, nonsense hostess. Do not worry. Nothing I will not be one of the bowls of sour cream.
- On the whole bowls ?! - Baba Yaga closed her eyes.
- One life more, one less - shrugged cat. - I've got eight left.
Baba Yaga frowned and stared thoughtfully out the window.
- So-oo ... A dog is why it missed? Hey, you there! Shawky! Well go here!
- Yes, you do not yell - yawning cat. - They do not come. Sleep.
- How to sleep?
- So. Ate and digested.
- What the ... digest?
- Sausage. - Cat's eyes narrowed and barely perceptible sigh. - Sausage - this is good. But ... All right, well, too sour.
- Herods! - Baba Yaga sat on an inverted mortar and sobbed. - I do what I feed-sing strictly on a diet? To you I suddenly suffocated from gastritis?
- Brrros, the owner - the cat purred soothingly - dogs, too, I need to unwind. One hundred years in the mouth a stale crust was not afraid to say!
- A scary - and shut up! - Shouted an old woman.
Cat appeasably stopped, turned on the flank and began to catch its own tail, humming softly.
- Catch it, or what? - I mused old after a while.
- What, on a broomstick? - Cat snorted.
- By the way - ominously narrowed Baba Yaga - in Europe, as I heard, flying witch riding a black cats.
- I'm a wild - cat grin - and skittish.
Baba Yaga turned and stopped.
- The mistress and the mistress?
- What?
- What would you do to her if caught? Roasted and eaten?
- What am I, a beast? - The old woman was offended. - How can I eat it? Three hundred years of living and everything to me, "Baba Yaga, the leg bone ..." And she - her grandmother called!
The old woman sniffed and wiped her eyes area handkerchief.
- I'm here to track it Yablochkov gathered ... and pies with jam ... - she said, and smiled sheepishly stunned cat.

Author: Peter Bormor





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