How to Save Your Tail Read Free Page B

“You did have a deal,” he said. “But you know, thisparticular story is
about
a deal. Too bad you won’t get to hear it.”
    “Please, Brutus?” purred Muffin. “Pretty please with tuna on top?”
    Brutus melted. “This better be good, Mack,” he said. His stomach growled. “Are there any more cookies?”
    So the rat gave each cat another cookie and some fresh milk and told them about Mustard, Squeak, and Bubbles’s niece, Lois, who knew what it meant to be hungry, how to work hard (sort of), and the joys of raising a family.

The Chimney Troll
    O nce upon a time, after her mother ran away with the circus, my stunning but starving grandma Lois wandered the countryside looking for a job. By and by, she came to a castle with a sign on the door:

    Now, Lois did not know whether she could spin a roomful of straw into gold, but she figured it was worth a try.
    She knocked on the castle door, introduced herself to the housekeeper, and followed her to abig room stuffed with straw. A spinning wheel topped by a golden spindle stood near the fireplace.
    “You must spin all of this into gold by tomorrow’s dawn,” said the housekeeper, “or die a grisly death.”
    “Land sakes,” worried Lois, once she was alone. “The sign didn’t say anything about death. And, and … this room is soooooo big!” She tried the door, but it was locked. She looked for a window, but the straw reached all the way to the ceiling. She thought about tunneling through the straw to find a mousehole, but she just didn’t have the strength. At last, she decided there was nothing for it but to begin spinning.

    Lois trod the wheel and drew a thread that was fine, smooth, and handsome. But it was not gold. Worse yet, by midnight she had spun only one small skein.
    “Oh, my pink nose and yellow teeth!” she cried. “I shall never spin the straw to gold by dawn and shall die a grisly death!” At this thought, she wept so bitterly that she didn’t notice the ugly little man who tumbled out of the fireplace.
    “Hey!”
he shouted. “What’s with the racket?”
    Lois squealed in surprise. “Who are you?” she asked, horrified by his dirty hair, long arms, and unruly tail.
    “I’m the Castle Chimney Troll,” he said. “They call me Rumpelstiltskin. What’s the problem?” His red eyes squinted as if blinded by her stunning good looks.
    Lois could not know he was just plain nearsighted.
    “I said I could spin straw to gold so that I could become Queen, but I can’t spin it to gold at all, and if it’s not done by dawn I’m dead,” she said.
    “Not to worry, goodness no,” said the Troll. “I will spin the gold. But in return, you must promise that, after you marry the King, you will give me your firstborn child.”
    Lois had a good heart and did not want to give away her firstborn, but she realized that there would not be a firstborn if she was dead. So, being a practical creature, she said “Okay.”
    The Troll set to work at once and the whirr ofthe spinning wheel hummed Lois to sleep. When she woke, the first sunbeams sparkled through the window on piles and piles of spun gold. A note on the golden spindle read:
    “Remember your promise. Signed, Troll.”
    The housekeeper arrived a moment later. She clapped and chortled and pinched Lois’s whiskery cheek, which was rosy with relief. “It’s so lovely,” exclaimed the housekeeper, “not to have to plan another grisly death!” Then off she bustled to plan the wedding.
    The King turned out to be a warthog, but when they kissed at the ceremony he changed into a frog.
Oh well
, thought Lois,
nobody’s perfect
.
    In time, Lois gave birth, and joy filled the household. But that night, at the grand celebration, the Chimney Troll popped into the ballroom.
    “It’s time to complete our bargain, Your Majesty,” he said. “You owe me your firstborn.”
    Lois sobbed. The servants were distraught beyond words, and the Frog King was hopping mad.
    But the Troll said, “A