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You're built to win it. Welcome to snoozecast, the podcast designed to help you fall asleep. Find us at snoozecast.com and to learn more about snoozecast plus for ad free listening and expanded content, go to snoozecast.com slash plus. This episode is brought to you by Excellent Company. tonight, we'll read from Cat Tales by Edith Nesbet, a collection of stories centered on the lives and antics of cats. If you enjoy this episode, be sure to check out the other Cat Tales episode that aired in September 2021, and also the fairy tale, The White Cat, that aired first in July of 2020. Known for her sharp observations and straightforward storytelling, Nesbit presents these tales with a mix of realism and subtle irony, capturing the independence and inscrutability of her feline subjects. The story's reflect her ability to balance light fantasy with practical detail, a hallmark of her work. Edith Nussbet, born 1858, was a British writer and poet best known for her children's fiction, including The Railway Children and Five Children in It, a co-founder of the Fabian Society. She was politically engaged and influenced later fantasy writers with her blend of everyday settings and magical elements. Let's get cozy. Close your eyes. your body into the softness of your bed. Now take true that we cats have 9 lives? Quite my dear. The brindled cat replied. She was a very handsome cat, and in very comfortable circumstances, she sat on a warm, Turkish carpet, and wore a blue satin ribbon round her neck. I am in the ninth life myself. She said. Have you lived all your lives here? Oh dear, no. Were you here? The white kidden asked in a sleepy voice. When the Turkish carpet was born, Rover says it is only a few months old. No, said the mother. I was not. Indeed, it was partly the softness of that carpet that made me come and live here. Where did you live before, the black kitten said. A dreamy look came into the brindled cat's eyes. In many strange places, she answered slowly, adding more briskly. And if you will be good kittens, I will tell you all about them. Goldie, come down from that stool and sit down like a good kitten. Sweep, leave off sharpening your claws on the furniture that always ends in trouble and punishment. Snowball, you're asleep again. Oh well, if you'd rather sleep than hear a story, Snowball shook herself awake, and the others sat down close to their mother with their tails arranged neatly beside them and waited for the story. I was born, said the brindled cat, in a barn. What is a barn? Ask the black kiddin'. A barn is like a house, but there is only one room, and no carpets, only straw.

I should like that," said the yellow kitten. He often played among the straw in the big box which brought groceries from the stores. I liked it well enough when I was your age.

Set the mother indulgently.

But a barn is not at all a gentile place to be born in. My mother had had a little unpleasantness with the family she lived with, and, of course, she was too proud to stay on after that. And so she left them and went to live in the barn. It wasn't at all the sort of life she had been accustomed to. What was the unpleasantness? Sweep-asked. Well, it was about some cream which the woman of the house wanted for her tea. She should have said so. Of course, my mother would not have taken it if she had had any idea that anyone else wanted it. She was always most unselfish. What is tea? A kind of brown milk.

Very. most unselfish. What is tea? A kind of brown milk. Very nasty indeed, and very bad for you. Well, I lived with my brothers and sisters very happily for some months, for I was too young to know how vulgar it was to live in a barn and play with straw. What is vulgar, mother? Dear dear, how you do ask questions, said the brindled cat, beginning to look worried. Vulgar is being like everybody else. But does everybody else live in a barn? No. Nobody does who is respectable. Volgar really means not like respectable cats. Oh, said the black kid in in the yellow, trying to look as if they understood. But the white one did not say anything, because it had gone to sleep again. Well, the mother went on. After a while, they took me to live in the farmhouse, and I should have liked it well enough. Only they had a low habit of locking up the dairy in the pantry. Well, it would be tiresome to go into the whole story. However, I soon finished my life at the farmhouse and went to live in the It was very pleasant there. Horses are excellent company. That was my third life. My fourth was at the millers. He came one day to buy some corn. He saw me and admired me. As indeed, everyone has always done. He and the farmer were disputing about the price of the corn and at last the miller said, ''Look here, you shall have your price if you'll throw me that cat into the bargain.'' The kid ends all shuddered. What is a bark? Is it like a pond, and were you thrown in? I was thrown in, I believe, but a bargain is not like a pond. Though I heard the two men talking of wet-hang the bargain, but I suppose they did not do it, for I arrived at the mill quite dry. That

was a very pleasant life, full of mice. All was full of mice, asked the white kid in, waking up for a moment. I was, said the mother sharply, and I should have stayed in the mill forever.

But the mill forever, but the miller had another cat sent him by his sister. However, he gave me away to a man who worked a barge up and down the river. I suppose he thought he should like to see me again sometimes as the barge passed by. Life in a barge is very exciting. There are such lots of rats. Some of them as big as your kittens. I got quite clever at catching them, though sometimes they made a very good fight for it. I used to have plenty of milk, and I slept with the bargee in his warm little bunk. And of nights I sat and toasted myself in front of his fire, in the small, cozy cabin. He was very fond of me. He used to talk to me a great deal. It is so lonely on a barge that you were glad of a little conversation. He was very kind to me, and I was very grieved when he married a lady who didn't like cats, and who chased me out of the barge with a barge pole. What is a barge pole? The yellow kiddin' asked lazily. The only leg a barge has. I ran away into the woods, and there I lived on birds and rabbits. What are rabbits? Something like cats with long ears, very wholesome and nutritious, and I should have liked my sixth life very much, but for the keeper. No, don't interrupt to to ask what a keeper is. Anyway, I was looking out for my seventh life and also for the gamekeeper, and was sitting by the river with both eyes and both ears open when a little girl came by, a nice little girl in a checked pinnifor. She stopped when she saw me and called Kitty Kitty. So I went very slowly to her and rubbed myself against her legs. Then she picked me up and carried me home in the checked pinnacle. My seventh life was spent in a clean little cottage with this little girl and her mother. She was very fond of me, and I was eye was as fond of her as a cat can be of a human being at least. Of course, we are never so unreasonably fond of them as they are of us. Why not, as the yellow kid in, who was young and affectionate because they they're only human beings, and we are cats. Return the mother, turning her large, calm, green eyes on Goldie, who said, Oh, and no more. Well, what happened then? Ask the black kiddin'

catching Oh, and no more. Well, what happened then? Ask the black kidden, catching its mother's eye? Well, one day, the little girl put me into a basket and carried me out. I was always a fine figure of a cat, and I must have been a good weight to carry. Several times she opened the basket to kiss and stroke me. The last time she did it, we were in a room, where a sick girl lay on a bed. I did not know what to bring you for your birthday," said my little girl.

So I brought you my little girl.

So I brought you my dear kitty. The sick girl's eyes sparkled with delight. She took me in her arms and stroked me. And though I do not like sick people, I felt flattered and pleased. But that only made eight lives, said sweep.

Who had been counting on his claws. And you said you had nine, which was your ninth? Why, this, you silly child, said the brindled kitty, sitting up, and beginning to wash the kittens face very hard indeed. And as it's my last life, I must be very careful of it. That's why I'm so particular about what I eat and drink, and why I make a point of sleeping so many hours a day. But it's your first life snowball, and I can't have you wasting it all in sleep. Go and catch a mouse at once. Yes, Mama, said snowball, and went to sleep again immediately. Ah, said Mrs. Brindle, I'll you next. That'll make you wake up my dear. Snowballs always sleepy, said the yellow kiddin', stretching itself. But mama dear, she doesn't care for history, and yours was a very long tale.

You can't have too much of a good thing," said the mother, looking down at her long, It's a good tale.

The longer it is, the better.

The medicine cat. the longer it is, the better. The Medicine Cat I was separated from my mother at a very early age and sent out into the world alone. Long before I had had time to learn to say, please, and thank you, and to shut the door after me, and little things like that. One of the things I had not learned to understand was the difference between milk and a saucer on the floor and milk in a jug on the table. Other cats tell me there is a difference, but I can't see it. The difference is not in the taste of the milk. That is precisely the same. It is not so easy to get the milk out of a jug, and I should have thought some credit would attach to a cat who performed so clever a feat. The world, my dear, thinks otherwise. This difference of opinion has, through life, been a fruitful source of sorrow to me. I cannot tell you how much I have suffered for it. The first occasion I remember was a beautiful day in June when the sun shone and all the world looked fair. I was destined to remember that day. The fishmonger, talk of statues to heroes, I would raise one to that noble man. The fishmonger, I say, brought his usual little present to me. I let the cook take it and prepare it for my eating. I am always generous enough to permit the family to be served first, and then I have my dinner quietly at the back door. Well, he had brought the salmon and followed the cook-in to see that it wasn't put where those dogs could get it, and then the dining room door being opened, I walked in. The breakfast things were lying littered about, and on the tea tray was a jug. Of course, I walked across the table, and looked into the jug. There was milk in it. It was a sensible, wide, mouthed jug, and I should have been quite able to make a comfortable breakfast. If some clumsy, careless servant hadn't rushed into the room crying, shoo, Yeahat! This startled me, of course. I'm very sensitive. I started, the jug went over, and the milk ran onto the cloth, and down on the new carpet. It will hardly believe it, but that servant, to conceal her own carelessness, beat me with a feather brush, and threw me out of the back door. And cook, who was always a heartless person, though stout, gave me no dinner. Ah, if my fishmonger had only known that I never tasted his beautiful present after all. But though I admired him so much I could not talk to him, I never from a kid in could speak any foreign language fluently. So he never knew. My next misadventure was on an afternoon when the family expected company, and the best China was set out. Why best? Why should a saucer? All blue and gold and red with a crown on the back. Be better than a white one with purple blobs on it. I never could see. Milk tastes equally well from both. I went into the drawing room before the guests arrived. just to be sure that everything was as I could wish. And seeing the tea set out, I got on the table, as usual, to see whether there was anything in the saucers. There was not. But in the best milk jug there was. Cream. The neck of the best milk jug was narrow. I could not get my head in. So I turned it over with my paw. It fell with a crash. And I paused a moment. These little shocks always upset me. All was still, so I began to lap. Oh, that cream, I shall never forget it. Then came a rush, and the fatal cry of shoe, scat, always pressaging disaster. I saw the door open, and by an instinct I cannot explain, I leaped from the table. In my hurry, my foot caught in the handle of the silver tray. We fell together, neither the tray nor I was hurt, but the best China. I picked myself up and looked about me. The family had come in. I read in their faces that their servants' unlucky interruption of my meal had destroyed what was dearer to them than life than my life at any rate. I fled. I went out homeless and hopeless into the golden afternoon. I live now with a saint, A maiden lady who who takes condensed milk in her own tea, and buys me two pennyworth of cream, night and morning. And cats meet, too. And the glorious fishmonger still leaves his offerings at my door.

A silly question. How do you come to be white when all your brothers are tabby, my dear? Dolly asked her kiddin'. As she spoke, she took it away from the ball it was playing with, and held it up, and looked in its face as Alice did with the red queen. I'll tell you if you'll keep it a secret and not hold hold me so tight," the kid had answered. Dolly was not surprised to hear the kid in speak, for she had read her fairy books, as all good children should, and she knew that all creatures answer if one only speaks to them properly. So she held the kid in more comfortably and the tail began. You must know my dear Dolly, the kid in began, and Dolly thought it dreadfully familiar. You must know that when we were very small, we all set out to seek our fortunes. Why? Interrupted, Dolly. You were all born and brought up in our barn. I used to see you every day. Quite so, said the kitten. We sought our fortune every night, and it turned out to be mice, mostly. Well, one night I was seeking mine, when I came to a hole in the door that I had never noticed before. I crept through it and found myself in a large, beautiful room. It smelled delicious. There was cheese there and fish and cream and mice and milk. It was the most lovely room you can think of. There's no such room, big Ann Dolly. Did I say there was? Ask the kid in. I only said I found myself there. Well, I stayed there some time. It was the happiest hour of my life. But, as I was washing my face after one of the most delicious herrings had you've ever tasted, something like a dog and something like a broom, something like being thrown out of the larder by cook. I can't describe it. It caught up with me, and in less than a moment, it had hung me on a nail behind the door. And I crept out of that lovely fairyland once I escaped as a cat without a skin. And that's how I came to be white. I don't quite see, began Dolly. No. Why? What would your mother do if someone took off your dress and hung it on a nail where she could not get it. Well, by me another I suppose? Exactly. But when my mother took me to the cat's skin shop, they were, unfortunately, quite out of tabby dresses in my size. So I had to have a white one. I don't believe a word of it," said Dolly. No? Well, I'm sure it's as good a story as you could expect to answer with such a silly question. But you were always, oh well, said the kid in, showing its claws. If you know more about it than I do, of course there's no more to be said. Perhaps you could tell me why your hair is brown. I was born so I believe, said Dolly gently. The kitten put its nose in the air. "'You've got no imagination,' it said. But Kitty, really and truly, without pretending, you were born white, you know. If you know all about it, why did you ask me? At any rate, you can't expect me to remember whether I was born white or not. I was too young to notice such things. Now, you're making fun of me, and I don't appreciate it. Set poor dolly, bewildered. The kiddin' brisled with indignation as it stretched and arched its back.

What? You really don't believe me? The kid in sad.

I'll never speak to you again. It's sad.

And it never has. Yn yw'n yw'n yw'n yw'n yw'n yw'n yw'n yw'n yw'n yw'n yw'n yw'n yw'n yw'n yw'n yw'n yw'n yw'n yw'n yw'n yw'n yw'n yw'n yw'n yw'n yw'n yw'n yw'n yw'n yw'n yw'n y