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Description
In a small land, in a small village that sat in a small valley was a small cottage that held a small family. There was an old woman, Grandmam, whose job it was to make the beds and rock the baby's cradle on the hearth. There was a grown woman, Mam, whose job was to sew the laundry, bake the bread, and clean the house. Then there was an almost-woman, Elsa.

Elsa's job was to grow the garden. But Elsa never thought of the garden as a duty. To her it was a refuge. All of Elsa's time was spent in her little gated garden. Her skin was warm and golden from the sun, her hair strong and bright from the kisses of the fresh wind. Her arms and waist were supple and strong from bending over her beloved plants and pulling weeds from the beds. The dear girl spent so much time caring for her garden, it was as if she herself was a flower sister, or the cousin of a slender waving tree.

Every five days the little village had a market day, and every market day Elsa brought the harvest of her garden to sell. Vegetables, berries, nuts, herbs, fruits, even wreaths, garlands and bunches of blooming flowers sold at her humble booth. She had a kind heart, often giving away merchandise to people who had nothing to pay her with. And she happily brought home all her earnings home to her Grandmam, Mam, and the little baby.

But one cold dreary day in November, when the wind bit at the noses and ears of the people in the alleyways, Elsa huddled over her market booth dejected.  None of her things had sold and it was late in the afternoon. People passed by, clutching shawls and hats to themselves, unwilling to stop and purchase anything at Elsa's booth. The baby at home was sick and although the round pumpkins and squashes shone their bright oranges and yellows they failed to both cheer Elsa as well as sell. It was just too cold and wet for anyone to notice her stall. Elsa knew that if she returned home without any coins, it would be one more night they would have to go without a doctor. Plus the last old hen had stopped laying and they had no extra pennies to buy a new pullet. Elsa sat and shivered in the fierce frigid air, and the more she worried, the wearier she became. Her pretty shoulders drooped, her stinging eyes closed and soon her sweet head had dropped down to rest among her wares. As she slept, she dreamt a beautiful dream. She was standing in the middle of her little garden, but was a garden it was! Instead of a stone well, a crystal clear lake shone and sparkled. In the place of the stone path there led a smooth road of shining glass spotted with jewels. Amethyst, emerald, sapphires: all as soft to walk on as silk. Every flower and bush Elsa had ever planted was in full bloom, mindless of the season. The blue forget-me-nots of spring waved brightly next to the stunning holly berries of winter and the cheery daisies of summer. Elsa knew (even as she slept) that her garden had been touched by some magic. So she twirled and danced on the glittering path of gemstones and she drank deeply from the cool refreshing lake. But just as she began to reach out for her flowers someone called her name: "Elsa!" She woke with a start.
There sitting before her on a round green pumpkin was a great black and white cat. He stared at her unblinking with deep solemn blue eyes. Elsa looked for the person who had called her name, but the sun was about to set and there was no one out in the darkening streets. Before she could move to begin packing up her unsold goods, the giant cat ducked his head and put his pink nose to her forehead and gave her one raspy cat kiss—and then was suddenly gone. But where each of feet had met the table there shone a coin, three golden puddles of hope amongst the warty squashes. Elsa was stunned, but she rushed home with the money in her hand, the doctor in her wake, and the beautiful dream lingering in her mind and giving strength to her once weary limbs.

Many months past and spring was beginning to spread a green haze over the fields. Usually Elsa was happiest in the springtime. It meant her garden would be waking up from its deep winter sleep and she could once more move about barefooted with her leafy friends. But this spring was different. He Grandmam had gotten ill over the winter and although they had been able to pay a doctor and afford medicine due to the miraculous gift of the mysterious cat at the market place, the sick woman was too old to live through the fever. Now they had no more money to pay for a coffin or a service. The family mourned not only over the loss of their dear grandmother, but over the fact that she would be disgracefully buried in a pauper field with no marker and no recognition. Elsa slowly headed to the market that day, her head down and her feet slow in her grief. As soon as she had set out her fresh herbs and cut flowers, again she saw the cat. This time he did not stare at Elsa, but he came and rubbed his great soft head against her skirt as if asking for attention. Elsa gave a small smile, for she hadn't forgotten what the cat had given her last time she was in need. But to her surprise, when she lifted the cat into her lap to pet him, his eyes were bright and sorrowful as if his grief were even greater than hers. All day the cat the young woman sat together, one comforting the other silently. This time as the sun began to set behind the fields, glazing the grass with a bright orange the cat looked up at Elsa and three great tears rolled from his beautiful blue eyes into her little brown hands. She gasped, for the tears hardened and turned into pure diamonds in her palm. She looked up to thank the cat for his second gift, but once more he was gone before the sun had dipped below the horizon.

This time Elsa did not run home to tell her mother and sister what had happened. Instead she walked slowly and deliberately, pondering just what had happened to the cat and why he would help her. For by now, she knew that this was no ordinary cat and she was almost sure he had been bewitched. She took one of the diamonds to pay for a service and proper burial for her Grandmam, but the two others she kept close in a pocket on her dress that she stitched over her heart.

For several weeks whenever Elsa visited the market she looked for the cat. She wasn't sure why she wanted to see him so badly, but whenever she thought of the day her Grandmam died she knew it was because he was such a comfort to her. Summer was sweet and golden that year. Elsa thought more and more of the day in November that she first saw the cat. "Nearly a year ago," she thought to herself. "I wonder if I ever will see him again?" And each market day she strained her eyes harder to see a cat in the shadows of the streets or behind a housewife's skirts.

Elsa was now a beautiful young woman of marrying age. But although she was pretty and sweet, she was shy and didn't like the attention of the rough village boys. Several farmers and merchants sent their sons to ask her mother for the hand of Elsa in marriage, but each one was turned down. Elsa's mother was wise and understood that her daughter did not wish to marry a man she did not love. Soon the days grew cool and the air blew crisp through the village, sending a message of autumn. Once more Elsa found herself carting pumpkins and squash to her market booth in November, she wondered if it were the same day as last year when she had first seen the cat. Unlike that memorable day, the sun was bright in the sky and the colored leaves danced about Elsa's feet like little orange fairies. She smiled as she set up her table for the day, waving to new customers and laughing with old ones. Suddenly the bright sun was blocked by a pair of broad shoulders. Surprised, Elsa looked up into a lean handsome face. Blue eyes and black hair, the young man was dressed like a lord. He bowed elegantly to Elsa and when he straightened, she was blushing. "Kind maid," he addressed her. "I am in awe of your perfect autumn produce. Pray, what is your secret? You are in fact a daughter of the elfin king, I'm sure. Otherwise the plants wouldn't yield their children up to you so freely." Elsa blushed a deeper shade of pink.

"Ah, sir. You be too kind. I never have seen an elfin king, much less been sired by one. I only love my plants wholeheartedly and they in turn give me gifts of their own. Would you like to purchase any? 'Tis strange to see a nobleman like yourself in the market. Usually only kitchen hands and housewives visit here, perhaps you come to meet a maiden and treat her to a honeybun?" Elsa gave a sly wink at the young man and now it was his turn to turn red.

"Perhaps I have." The noble then turned his heel and keeping his long black cloak close about him, he ambled off to the stall selling hot sweetbreads. Elsa gave a sad knowing smile. She was a bright girl and she knew that whichever villager's daughter he was meeting could not be far off; and that she was lucky indeed. She let out a little sigh; November was wedding season and she felt lonely. Her plants were going to once more sleep in their cold frosty beds and she would have no one to spend her time with over the winter. She was pulled out of her daydreams by the rustle of paper. There before her stood the handsome young man again, this time with two honeybuns wrapped in brown papers. He gave a roguish grin and thrust one forward.

"Honeybuns as promised, maiden." Elsa was speechless.

"Oh! Sir, I didn't mean to be brazen. It was in jest, surely. Let me pay for both the bread and my unseemly behavior." And she fumbled for coins in her pocket.

"No, no. This is a gift. But I would like to be repaid if you are willing." The man replied. Elsa looked up in fear. She had only a few coins and she didn't know what the rich man would ask for, but she was certain it was something she couldn't give. "In return for this delicious honeybun," he continued, biting into his own, "please inform me as to what exactly is the name of this here...product." And he pointed grandly to a mottled squash with a growth that was sitting among the other rainbow colored vegetables.  Elsa laughed at his question with relief. She curtseyed as grandly as she could and then answering in mock formality. "Honored sire, this ugly vegetable is cousin to these bright orange pumpkins. He is a turban squash! Do you like hazelnuts?" At this her formal tone was lost and she was only a woman speaking about what she truly loved. Her face had lost all fear-she had found a friend.
"I do! I enjoy them very much, best before a great fire, don't you agree?" answered the princely customer, pulling forward a wooden crate and settling himself down.
"Of course! Turban squash taste a bit like hazelnuts. You can make them into pies..." the young woman and the noble made a peculiar picture, sitting side by side surrounded by lumpy squash and leafy herbs. But they were oblivious to any passers by. Soon their conversation turned from gardens to favorite times of day, to dreams and jokes. They talked about when they were children, holidays spent. But as soon as the sun began to dip lower in the sky. The handsome youth stood, once more he bowed, bid Elsa farewell and disappeared into the alleyways.
Elsa thought often of the handsome nobleman who had visited her booth. She often fell asleep remembering how happy she had been laughing and exchanging stories with him. She was bothered that she had never asked him his name, for she was sure that she would most likely never speak with him again. The winter came, the wedding season passed, as did Michaelmas. The spring rains woke up her garden again, the summer blazed and for the third time in our tale November came. Once more Elsa was visited by a friend.Once more she looked up into the face of the handsome nobleman.

"Oh! It's you!" she cried. The dark haired youth smiled.

"Where you expecting another?" he asked.

"Well, in truth, I was expecting no one. But I had considered it more likely to be visited by an angel in cat's disguise then yourself. How has your year passed? Well?" and she pushed forward an upturned crate in his direction, hoping to spend the day in his company again.

"Angel disguised as a cat? What makes you say that?" the man asked, ignoring her questions. So Elsa told her tale of how twice a cat had saved her and her family from misfortune. She explained its strange behavior and how she believed it to be bewitched. The young noble listened intently through her whole story and when she ended he looked in her face for a long time, as if measuring her words.  "If someone were to come to you and tell you that they knew the cat's story, would you want to hear it? He asked, his voice low. Elsa's heart gave a jump, although she didn't quite know why.

"Yes. I would."

"And if that person told you that story what would you do?" Elsa looked straight into the eyes of her friend.

"I would ask them how I could help the poor bewitched cat so that his story wouldn't be so very sad. For I'm sure his story is a sorrowful one." At this the young man relaxed, stretched his arms above his head as if he had been in a deep sleep and smiled. And he began to tell his story, the story of the bewitched cat:

"I was a happy child (I'm sure you remember the stories we told each other last year of when we were children. They were all true, I assure you.) And I had not a care in the world. My father was a rich merchant and my mother a duchess and they made sure to give me anything my heart desired. I had a pony and a hunting dog and many toys to play with; I'm afraid I grew up very spoiled. When I turned 14, however, my parents told me I would have to find a profession. Although they would gift me with an inheritance at the coming of age, they also wished for me to lead a life of honorable work. My father wanted me to continue in his footsteps of becoming a merchant and so I daily went to the stock houses and docks to learn his trade. At the docks there lived a mangy cat that made itself underfoot and mewed all day begging for scraps of food and attention. It was often accompanied by an equally mangy child. Her hair was matted and her clothes dirty rags. I was, as I said, a spoiled child and I looked on this pair with disdain. My father tried to teach me to be kind to them; he said that not everyone was as fortunate as I to grow up in a grand mansion with everything at my fingertips. I ignored him. I teased the two of them, called them names and causing them to get in trouble with the men on the wharfs. I'm sure that I made their lives quite miserable. One day after I had plagued them for hours the girl turned to me with blazing eyes and shouted something I didn't quite understand. I was frightened at first, since she had never spoken to me before, always taking the persecution humbly and silently.  But, since nothing came of it, I soon forgot the incident. That night however I woke up terribly thirsty, I sat up to ring for a maid to bring me a cup of water but I nearly fainted from fright. For I had no hands, but instead the paws and claws of cat! I ran from my home, terrified of my alteration. For years I crawled from town to town living as a stray cat, begging for food and scrounging for shelter. True, I was no ordinary cat. In the night under the moon I was transformed back into myself for a few scant hours. I still had immeasurable wealth for I was, under my fur and whiskers, a wealthy merchant, but as a cat what could I do with riches? Finally I found the girl that had cast this spell on me. I found her licking the skin of a boiled potato on a dock in November. But although she made a pitiful picture, I was ashamed to remember how I had treated her. She told me that if I could find someone who was kind enough to reach out to me in my catlike form I would someday be freed and could be a man again. She thought (rightfully so) that no one would care for one more stray cat, after all, no one had cared for her. She believed that I would be cursed until run over by some farmer's cart or died of the cold. I, too, was of this mindset. But one day in November, not unlike the day I met with the beggar girl, I saw a beautiful young woman troubled at her market booth. I was your angel cat, although I daresay I am anything but angelic!"
Elsa had sat quietly as she listened to the merchant's story. She was amazed, but also confused.

"And who released you from your spell? Please, continue with your tale!" she asked.  The young man smiled.

"Why, there is nothing more to tell! I came to you once in my sorrow. I had learned that my father, who I loved dearly, had died without knowing what had become of his only son. You comforted me that day, even though I was only a cat." He looked up with bright blazing eyes, the burning sunset covering his face with gold light. "I loved you because of that."

No one had ever told Elsa that they loved her. Her mother certainly did and her grandmother had, but in their simpleton peasant ways they had never said it out loud. The young woman sat, her hands twisting about a handkerchief in her lap and he head spun. Finally, after a long minute she looked up into the handsome face across from hers. Her eyes darted back and forth as if searching for something.
"I know." She replied with a whisper. "I knew it then and I know it now, because I loved you back." The man looked as if he were about to spring forward and grab her hands in joy. His face was upturned in the sun's disappearing light and then! As it fell below the hills the arms that were spread out towards sweet Elsa were pulled back and the handsome face was turned away. The young man had turned into a cat once more. Elsa gave a cry of surprise and sorrow and gathered him up in her strong brown arms. She wept into his silky fur and held his great cat head in her hands. When she pulled back her hands from his face three fine whiskers fell from his cheek. When she took them up in her palm they wove themselves into an invisible ring and she took that ring and placed it on her finger like a wedding band. She took the cat home with her that night, carrying him close to her heart.

The whole next year she loved the cat and he in return never left her side. For 12 months her garden never died. Her plants thrived through the snow and ice; through the cold rains and strong winds the garden gave her flowers and fruit and she knew that it was out of love. The cat and the woman lived as if there was a tether that held their souls together.

Once more November came, that weighty month that always brought such mystery with it. Elsa could not convince her mother to put off a wedding for another year. A farmer had asked for Elsa's hand and her mother could not change his mind. He was insistent that Elsa be his. As soon as the harvest came in, the ceremony would be held and Elsa would become the farmer's wife. Elsa threw herself into despair. There was nothing she could do, her family's word was given and her hand was promised. She knew that her heart was forever bound to the young nobleman, but he was only a cat. She continuously wept, her and her faithful companion shut themselves into the cottage, never going out and refusing to eat or sleep. When the day of the ceremony came, Elsa was like a ghost or a spirit walking in her own funeral procession. The ladies whispered that she was such a girlish bride, perhaps the farmer was making a mistake in choosing such a thin little thing for a wife. The men looked on her with pity, seeing how unhappily she was when before she used to be as bright as the flowers she loved. She was pale as snow and her once strong happy body was weak with exhaustion and sorrow. As she walked down the isle of the village church, her legs trembled and she leaned on her mother's shoulder so that she would not faint. The guests attempted to shoo away the cat that followed her, but his eyes gleamed and he threatened to hurt anyone that tried to remove him. So it was that Elsa stood at her wedding, facing her future husband with tears in her eyes and her true love silent by her side.

When the priest brought forth the wedding bands and the farmer took up Elsa's hand to place on it the ring, he could not. It simply would not go on her finger. She became red attempting to force it on her thin little hand, but no matter how he twisted or shoved it remained steadfast. The ring of whiskers which Elsa had always worn so faithfully repelled the band of gold! Elsa stood with tears brimming in her huge eyes and she finally called out: "It is useless! Your ring will not be worn falsely for I do not love you!" and burst into tears anew.  The priest, the groom, her mother, and all the guests were beside themselves. The room became chaos. Some tried to console the bride, others to convince her to reevaluate the situation, others to calm the groom who was growing more impatient by the second. The Priest attempted to bring order to the cathedral. The evening was bright and the sun's pink rays spread out upon the hall, shedding an eerie reddish glow on the wedding party. Suddenly amidst the pandemonium there stood a tall gentleman with flashing blue eyes. He stood at the altar and gave a shout so that all could hear him. The room grew hushed and Elsa's face looked as if she had seen an angel. He spoke:
"Sir!" he began, addressing the bridegroom, "I am deeply sorry, but you may not wed this honorable woman. For she is my betrothed and it would be against God and Kingdom for you to break that oath which we have made to one another." Elsa threw herself into the arms of the young man and stood thus, her unhappy tears turned to joyous ones. Her betrothed turned to the Priest and bowed low. "Father, I beg you to continue this wedding as it rightfully should, for I have waited a year in silence for this day." The wedding that followed was talked about for many years afterward. Many villagers still do not know what became of the cat that Elsa had loved so dearly, nor where her husband had come from. But they all agreed that the two could not be a more faithful or loving couple.

Description
In a small land, in a small village that sat in a small valley was a small cottage that held a small family. There was an old woman, Grandmam, whose job it was to make the beds and rock the baby's cradle on the hearth. There was a grown woman, Mam, whose job was to sew the laundry, bake the bread, and clean the house. Then there was an almost-woman, Elsa.

Elsa's job was to grow the garden. But Elsa never thought of the garden as a duty. To her it was a refuge. All of Elsa's time was spent in her little gated garden. Her skin was warm and golden from the sun, her hair strong and bright from the kisses of the fresh wind. Her arms and waist were supple and strong from bending over her beloved plants and pulling weeds from the beds. The dear girl spent so much time caring for her garden, it was as if she herself was a flower sister, or the cousin of a slender waving tree.

Every five days the little village had a market day, and every market day Elsa brought the harvest of her garden to sell. Vegetables, berries, nuts, herbs, fruits, even wreaths, garlands and bunches of blooming flowers sold at her humble booth. She had a kind heart, often giving away merchandise to people who had nothing to pay her with. And she happily brought home all her earnings home to her Grandmam, Mam, and the little baby.

But one cold dreary day in November, when the wind bit at the noses and ears of the people in the alleyways, Elsa huddled over her market booth dejected.  None of her things had sold and it was late in the afternoon. People passed by, clutching shawls and hats to themselves, unwilling to stop and purchase anything at Elsa's booth. The baby at home was sick and although the round pumpkins and squashes shone their bright oranges and yellows they failed to both cheer Elsa as well as sell. It was just too cold and wet for anyone to notice her stall. Elsa knew that if she returned home without any coins, it would be one more night they would have to go without a doctor. Plus the last old hen had stopped laying and they had no extra pennies to buy a new pullet. Elsa sat and shivered in the fierce frigid air, and the more she worried, the wearier she became. Her pretty shoulders drooped, her stinging eyes closed and soon her sweet head had dropped down to rest among her wares. As she slept, she dreamt a beautiful dream. She was standing in the middle of her little garden, but was a garden it was! Instead of a stone well, a crystal clear lake shone and sparkled. In the place of the stone path there led a smooth road of shining glass spotted with jewels. Amethyst, emerald, sapphires: all as soft to walk on as silk. Every flower and bush Elsa had ever planted was in full bloom, mindless of the season. The blue forget-me-nots of spring waved brightly next to the stunning holly berries of winter and the cheery daisies of summer. Elsa knew (even as she slept) that her garden had been touched by some magic. So she twirled and danced on the glittering path of gemstones and she drank deeply from the cool refreshing lake. But just as she began to reach out for her flowers someone called her name: "Elsa!" She woke with a start.
There sitting before her on a round green pumpkin was a great black and white cat. He stared at her unblinking with deep solemn blue eyes. Elsa looked for the person who had called her name, but the sun was about to set and there was no one out in the darkening streets. Before she could move to begin packing up her unsold goods, the giant cat ducked his head and put his pink nose to her forehead and gave her one raspy cat kiss—and then was suddenly gone. But where each of feet had met the table there shone a coin, three golden puddles of hope amongst the warty squashes. Elsa was stunned, but she rushed home with the money in her hand, the doctor in her wake, and the beautiful dream lingering in her mind and giving strength to her once weary limbs.

Many months past and spring was beginning to spread a green haze over the fields. Usually Elsa was happiest in the springtime. It meant her garden would be waking up from its deep winter sleep and she could once more move about barefooted with her leafy friends. But this spring was different. He Grandmam had gotten ill over the winter and although they had been able to pay a doctor and afford medicine due to the miraculous gift of the mysterious cat at the market place, the sick woman was too old to live through the fever. Now they had no more money to pay for a coffin or a service. The family mourned not only over the loss of their dear grandmother, but over the fact that she would be disgracefully buried in a pauper field with no marker and no recognition. Elsa slowly headed to the market that day, her head down and her feet slow in her grief. As soon as she had set out her fresh herbs and cut flowers, again she saw the cat. This time he did not stare at Elsa, but he came and rubbed his great soft head against her skirt as if asking for attention. Elsa gave a small smile, for she hadn't forgotten what the cat had given her last time she was in need. But to her surprise, when she lifted the cat into her lap to pet him, his eyes were bright and sorrowful as if his grief were even greater than hers. All day the cat the young woman sat together, one comforting the other silently. This time as the sun began to set behind the fields, glazing the grass with a bright orange the cat looked up at Elsa and three great tears rolled from his beautiful blue eyes into her little brown hands. She gasped, for the tears hardened and turned into pure diamonds in her palm. She looked up to thank the cat for his second gift, but once more he was gone before the sun had dipped below the horizon.

This time Elsa did not run home to tell her mother and sister what had happened. Instead she walked slowly and deliberately, pondering just what had happened to the cat and why he would help her. For by now, she knew that this was no ordinary cat and she was almost sure he had been bewitched. She took one of the diamonds to pay for a service and proper burial for her Grandmam, but the two others she kept close in a pocket on her dress that she stitched over her heart.

For several weeks whenever Elsa visited the market she looked for the cat. She wasn't sure why she wanted to see him so badly, but whenever she thought of the day her Grandmam died she knew it was because he was such a comfort to her. Summer was sweet and golden that year. Elsa thought more and more of the day in November that she first saw the cat. "Nearly a year ago," she thought to herself. "I wonder if I ever will see him again?" And each market day she strained her eyes harder to see a cat in the shadows of the streets or behind a housewife's skirts.

Elsa was now a beautiful young woman of marrying age. But although she was pretty and sweet, she was shy and didn't like the attention of the rough village boys. Several farmers and merchants sent their sons to ask her mother for the hand of Elsa in marriage, but each one was turned down. Elsa's mother was wise and understood that her daughter did not wish to marry a man she did not love. Soon the days grew cool and the air blew crisp through the village, sending a message of autumn. Once more Elsa found herself carting pumpkins and squash to her market booth in November, she wondered if it were the same day as last year when she had first seen the cat. Unlike that memorable day, the sun was bright in the sky and the colored leaves danced about Elsa's feet like little orange fairies. She smiled as she set up her table for the day, waving to new customers and laughing with old ones. Suddenly the bright sun was blocked by a pair of broad shoulders. Surprised, Elsa looked up into a lean handsome face. Blue eyes and black hair, the young man was dressed like a lord. He bowed elegantly to Elsa and when he straightened, she was blushing. "Kind maid," he addressed her. "I am in awe of your perfect autumn produce. Pray, what is your secret? You are in fact a daughter of the elfin king, I'm sure. Otherwise the plants wouldn't yield their children up to you so freely." Elsa blushed a deeper shade of pink.

"Ah, sir. You be too kind. I never have seen an elfin king, much less been sired by one. I only love my plants wholeheartedly and they in turn give me gifts of their own. Would you like to purchase any? 'Tis strange to see a nobleman like yourself in the market. Usually only kitchen hands and housewives visit here, perhaps you come to meet a maiden and treat her to a honeybun?" Elsa gave a sly wink at the young man and now it was his turn to turn red.

"Perhaps I have." The noble then turned his heel and keeping his long black cloak close about him, he ambled off to the stall selling hot sweetbreads. Elsa gave a sad knowing smile. She was a bright girl and she knew that whichever villager's daughter he was meeting could not be far off; and that she was lucky indeed. She let out a little sigh; November was wedding season and she felt lonely. Her plants were going to once more sleep in their cold frosty beds and she would have no one to spend her time with over the winter. She was pulled out of her daydreams by the rustle of paper. There before her stood the handsome young man again, this time with two honeybuns wrapped in brown papers. He gave a roguish grin and thrust one forward.

"Honeybuns as promised, maiden." Elsa was speechless.

"Oh! Sir, I didn't mean to be brazen. It was in jest, surely. Let me pay for both the bread and my unseemly behavior." And she fumbled for coins in her pocket.

"No, no. This is a gift. But I would like to be repaid if you are willing." The man replied. Elsa looked up in fear. She had only a few coins and she didn't know what the rich man would ask for, but she was certain it was something she couldn't give. "In return for this delicious honeybun," he continued, biting into his own, "please inform me as to what exactly is the name of this here...product." And he pointed grandly to a mottled squash with a growth that was sitting among the other rainbow colored vegetables.  Elsa laughed at his question with relief. She curtseyed as grandly as she could and then answering in mock formality. "Honored sire, this ugly vegetable is cousin to these bright orange pumpkins. He is a turban squash! Do you like hazelnuts?" At this her formal tone was lost and she was only a woman speaking about what she truly loved. Her face had lost all fear-she had found a friend.
"I do! I enjoy them very much, best before a great fire, don't you agree?" answered the princely customer, pulling forward a wooden crate and settling himself down.
"Of course! Turban squash taste a bit like hazelnuts. You can make them into pies..." the young woman and the noble made a peculiar picture, sitting side by side surrounded by lumpy squash and leafy herbs. But they were oblivious to any passers by. Soon their conversation turned from gardens to favorite times of day, to dreams and jokes. They talked about when they were children, holidays spent. But as soon as the sun began to dip lower in the sky. The handsome youth stood, once more he bowed, bid Elsa farewell and disappeared into the alleyways.
Elsa thought often of the handsome nobleman who had visited her booth. She often fell asleep remembering how happy she had been laughing and exchanging stories with him. She was bothered that she had never asked him his name, for she was sure that she would most likely never speak with him again. The winter came, the wedding season passed, as did Michaelmas. The spring rains woke up her garden again, the summer blazed and for the third time in our tale November came. Once more Elsa was visited by a friend.Once more she looked up into the face of the handsome nobleman.

"Oh! It's you!" she cried. The dark haired youth smiled.

"Where you expecting another?" he asked.

"Well, in truth, I was expecting no one. But I had considered it more likely to be visited by an angel in cat's disguise then yourself. How has your year passed? Well?" and she pushed forward an upturned crate in his direction, hoping to spend the day in his company again.

"Angel disguised as a cat? What makes you say that?" the man asked, ignoring her questions. So Elsa told her tale of how twice a cat had saved her and her family from misfortune. She explained its strange behavior and how she believed it to be bewitched. The young noble listened intently through her whole story and when she ended he looked in her face for a long time, as if measuring her words.  "If someone were to come to you and tell you that they knew the cat's story, would you want to hear it? He asked, his voice low. Elsa's heart gave a jump, although she didn't quite know why.

"Yes. I would."

"And if that person told you that story what would you do?" Elsa looked straight into the eyes of her friend.

"I would ask them how I could help the poor bewitched cat so that his story wouldn't be so very sad. For I'm sure his story is a sorrowful one." At this the young man relaxed, stretched his arms above his head as if he had been in a deep sleep and smiled. And he began to tell his story, the story of the bewitched cat:

"I was a happy child (I'm sure you remember the stories we told each other last year of when we were children. They were all true, I assure you.) And I had not a care in the world. My father was a rich merchant and my mother a duchess and they made sure to give me anything my heart desired. I had a pony and a hunting dog and many toys to play with; I'm afraid I grew up very spoiled. When I turned 14, however, my parents told me I would have to find a profession. Although they would gift me with an inheritance at the coming of age, they also wished for me to lead a life of honorable work. My father wanted me to continue in his footsteps of becoming a merchant and so I daily went to the stock houses and docks to learn his trade. At the docks there lived a mangy cat that made itself underfoot and mewed all day begging for scraps of food and attention. It was often accompanied by an equally mangy child. Her hair was matted and her clothes dirty rags. I was, as I said, a spoiled child and I looked on this pair with disdain. My father tried to teach me to be kind to them; he said that not everyone was as fortunate as I to grow up in a grand mansion with everything at my fingertips. I ignored him. I teased the two of them, called them names and causing them to get in trouble with the men on the wharfs. I'm sure that I made their lives quite miserable. One day after I had plagued them for hours the girl turned to me with blazing eyes and shouted something I didn't quite understand. I was frightened at first, since she had never spoken to me before, always taking the persecution humbly and silently.  But, since nothing came of it, I soon forgot the incident. That night however I woke up terribly thirsty, I sat up to ring for a maid to bring me a cup of water but I nearly fainted from fright. For I had no hands, but instead the paws and claws of cat! I ran from my home, terrified of my alteration. For years I crawled from town to town living as a stray cat, begging for food and scrounging for shelter. True, I was no ordinary cat. In the night under the moon I was transformed back into myself for a few scant hours. I still had immeasurable wealth for I was, under my fur and whiskers, a wealthy merchant, but as a cat what could I do with riches? Finally I found the girl that had cast this spell on me. I found her licking the skin of a boiled potato on a dock in November. But although she made a pitiful picture, I was ashamed to remember how I had treated her. She told me that if I could find someone who was kind enough to reach out to me in my catlike form I would someday be freed and could be a man again. She thought (rightfully so) that no one would care for one more stray cat, after all, no one had cared for her. She believed that I would be cursed until run over by some farmer's cart or died of the cold. I, too, was of this mindset. But one day in November, not unlike the day I met with the beggar girl, I saw a beautiful young woman troubled at her market booth. I was your angel cat, although I daresay I am anything but angelic!"
Elsa had sat quietly as she listened to the merchant's story. She was amazed, but also confused.

"And who released you from your spell? Please, continue with your tale!" she asked.  The young man smiled.

"Why, there is nothing more to tell! I came to you once in my sorrow. I had learned that my father, who I loved dearly, had died without knowing what had become of his only son. You comforted me that day, even though I was only a cat." He looked up with bright blazing eyes, the burning sunset covering his face with gold light. "I loved you because of that."

No one had ever told Elsa that they loved her. Her mother certainly did and her grandmother had, but in their simpleton peasant ways they had never said it out loud. The young woman sat, her hands twisting about a handkerchief in her lap and he head spun. Finally, after a long minute she looked up into the handsome face across from hers. Her eyes darted back and forth as if searching for something.
"I know." She replied with a whisper. "I knew it then and I know it now, because I loved you back." The man looked as if he were about to spring forward and grab her hands in joy. His face was upturned in the sun's disappearing light and then! As it fell below the hills the arms that were spread out towards sweet Elsa were pulled back and the handsome face was turned away. The young man had turned into a cat once more. Elsa gave a cry of surprise and sorrow and gathered him up in her strong brown arms. She wept into his silky fur and held his great cat head in her hands. When she pulled back her hands from his face three fine whiskers fell from his cheek. When she took them up in her palm they wove themselves into an invisible ring and she took that ring and placed it on her finger like a wedding band. She took the cat home with her that night, carrying him close to her heart.

The whole next year she loved the cat and he in return never left her side. For 12 months her garden never died. Her plants thrived through the snow and ice; through the cold rains and strong winds the garden gave her flowers and fruit and she knew that it was out of love. The cat and the woman lived as if there was a tether that held their souls together.

Once more November came, that weighty month that always brought such mystery with it. Elsa could not convince her mother to put off a wedding for another year. A farmer had asked for Elsa's hand and her mother could not change his mind. He was insistent that Elsa be his. As soon as the harvest came in, the ceremony would be held and Elsa would become the farmer's wife. Elsa threw herself into despair. There was nothing she could do, her family's word was given and her hand was promised. She knew that her heart was forever bound to the young nobleman, but he was only a cat. She continuously wept, her and her faithful companion shut themselves into the cottage, never going out and refusing to eat or sleep. When the day of the ceremony came, Elsa was like a ghost or a spirit walking in her own funeral procession. The ladies whispered that she was such a girlish bride, perhaps the farmer was making a mistake in choosing such a thin little thing for a wife. The men looked on her with pity, seeing how unhappily she was when before she used to be as bright as the flowers she loved. She was pale as snow and her once strong happy body was weak with exhaustion and sorrow. As she walked down the isle of the village church, her legs trembled and she leaned on her mother's shoulder so that she would not faint. The guests attempted to shoo away the cat that followed her, but his eyes gleamed and he threatened to hurt anyone that tried to remove him. So it was that Elsa stood at her wedding, facing her future husband with tears in her eyes and her true love silent by her side.

When the priest brought forth the wedding bands and the farmer took up Elsa's hand to place on it the ring, he could not. It simply would not go on her finger. She became red attempting to force it on her thin little hand, but no matter how he twisted or shoved it remained steadfast. The ring of whiskers which Elsa had always worn so faithfully repelled the band of gold! Elsa stood with tears brimming in her huge eyes and she finally called out: "It is useless! Your ring will not be worn falsely for I do not love you!" and burst into tears anew.  The priest, the groom, her mother, and all the guests were beside themselves. The room became chaos. Some tried to console the bride, others to convince her to reevaluate the situation, others to calm the groom who was growing more impatient by the second. The Priest attempted to bring order to the cathedral. The evening was bright and the sun's pink rays spread out upon the hall, shedding an eerie reddish glow on the wedding party. Suddenly amidst the pandemonium there stood a tall gentleman with flashing blue eyes. He stood at the altar and gave a shout so that all could hear him. The room grew hushed and Elsa's face looked as if she had seen an angel. He spoke:
"Sir!" he began, addressing the bridegroom, "I am deeply sorry, but you may not wed this honorable woman. For she is my betrothed and it would be against God and Kingdom for you to break that oath which we have made to one another." Elsa threw herself into the arms of the young man and stood thus, her unhappy tears turned to joyous ones. Her betrothed turned to the Priest and bowed low. "Father, I beg you to continue this wedding as it rightfully should, for I have waited a year in silence for this day." The wedding that followed was talked about for many years afterward. Many villagers still do not know what became of the cat that Elsa had loved so dearly, nor where her husband had come from. But they all agreed that the two could not be a more faithful or loving couple.