But instead of pouncing on him, the giant fluff ball landed on the floor and carried on. He felt a shadow pass over him just as you would if you were standing under an aeroplane as it took off. "Art can come alive!" And he thought those would be his last words on earth before he ascended to mousy heaven, which mice believe to be on the moon because it's made of cheese. He wanted to run, but his little legs froze. But what was this? Two green eyes were speeding towards him. Slowly he lowered his eyes from the painting and turned back towards his tempting crumb. "He isn't looking at me, really," he thought.
Its green eyes seemed to stare straight back at him. The moonlight shone through a skylight directly onto the cat's cross looking face. For a moment, he was transfixed by the sight of food, but then he remembered to look up and check the cat's portrait. Here he was rewarded by the sight of a giant crumb of carrot cake. When he reached the middle of the cafe, he climbed up the back of a chair and jumped heroically across a vast chasm onto a table. Jimmy took a deep breath and ventured out of the mouse hole. It's in your nature, and you can't change your nature however hard you try." "We know that you will always be reliable. "Why does everyone think I'm reliable? I promise that I'll be totally unreliable, so you needn't bother sending me on any more dangerous, life-threatening missions." "Because," said Grandpa Mouse, "Time and again, you have proved yourself to be totally reliable." So the shout went up: "Jimmy Mouse! Jimmy Mouse!" There was little doubt who that courageous little mouse might be. "We now need a courageous little mouse to venture forth and find out if that is indeed true." "So art is always asleep, eh?" asked Grandpa Mouse. "Point of Order! Art doesn't wake up!" called out Judith. "Or the c-c-cat painting," said a worried little voice. "All this squeaking will wake up the humans." "Order, order!" he cried, waving his front paws. The discussion grew louder and louder until Grandpa mouse woke up. "And what about the purring? The cat goes prrrrrrrrrrrrr. It's called SciFi-cology," another mouse told him." "Well, this work of art has got teeth and claws and prowls around the room," said the little mouse, shaking with fright. "Help! Help! The painting! It's alive!!!!" That night, some of the more adventurous mice ventured into the cafe to search for good things to eat. "You are so convinced that that cat is real that you imagine you can hear it purring." "That's called psychology," explained Judith. "It's not just the eyes," declared another little mouse. "It's called art when the artist is so good that the painting seems real." It would have eaten me if I hadn't run back home very fast." "Are you sure?" asked a mouse called Henry. "It means he has seen the error of his ways. "What does 'repented' mean?" asked her friend, Jimmy Mouse. "That's not a real cat," she declared, "It's a painting called "The Cat who Repented." This news caused much squeaking, trembling, and gnashing of sharp little teeth.Įventually, a clever mouse called Judith stuck her head out of the hole to see what was causing the fuss. "Eeek!" screeched a little rodent called Rodina. The customers often commented on the cat, and so did a family of mice who lived in the cafe. The weather was warming up, and the owner was selling tons of Cornish ice cream. The cafe started to get busier, but it was hard to say if the cat alone was responsible. The painting became quite a talking point. A few knocks later, the regal cat was watching over the cafe. "Deal," said the artist, who had come equipped with a hammer and picture hooks. "Yes, I like that idea," agreed the cafe owner. All you have to do is to allow us to display a little price tag so anyone who falls in love with the painting can buy it."
"You don't need any money for art because we painters will gladly borrow your walls to show our work. "That is the most wonderful thing about an art cafe," said the visitor. The cafe owner lowered his eyes and said: "I'm afraid I don't have any money for art." The posture and demeanour showed it to be a very self-important animal.Īt the bottom of the frame, a plaque showed the title of the painting.
It had the sort of face that was angry and cute at the same time. It contained a canvas on which was painted, in oils, a portrait of a magnificent cat. She stood back and revealed the frame to the cafe owner.
They are saying, 'please cover us with some beautiful paintings.' So I brought you this." "I'm sorry if our naked bricks offend you."