At last poor Dick could not bear this usage any longer, and he thought he would run away from his place; so he packed up his few things, and started very early in the morning, on All-hallow’s, which is the first of November.  He walked as far as Holloway; and there sat down on a stone, which to this day is called Whittington’s stone, and began to think to himself which road he should take as he went onwards.

While he was thinking what he should do, the bells of Bow Church, which at that time had only six, began to ring, and he fancied their sound seemed to say to him: 

  “Turn again, Whittington,
   Lord Mayor of London.”

“Lord Mayor of London!” said he to himself.  “Why, to be sure, I would put up with almost anything now, to be Lord Mayor of London, and ride in a fine coach, when I grow to be a man!  Well, I will go back, and think nothing of the cuffing and scolding of the old cook, if I am to be Lord Mayor of London at last.”

Dick went back, and was lucky enough to get into the house, and set about his work, before the old cook came downstairs.

The ship, with the cat on board, was a long time at sea; and was at last driven by the winds on a part of the coast of Barbary, where the only people were the Moors, that the English had never known before.

The people then came in great numbers to see the sailors, who were of different color to themselves, and treated them very civilly; and, when they became better acquainted, were very eager to buy the fine things that the ship was loaded with.

When the captain saw this, he sent patterns of the best things he had to the King of the country; who was so much pleased with them, that he sent for the captain to the palace.  Here they were placed, as it is the custom of the country, on rich carpets marked with gold and silver flowers.  The King and Queen were seated at the upper end of the room; and a number of dishes were brought in for dinner.  They had not sat long, when a vast number of rats and mice rushed in, helping themselves from almost every dish.  The captain wondered at this, and asked if these vermin were not very unpleasant.

“Oh, yes,” said they, “very destructive; and the King would give half his treasure to be freed of them, for they not only destroy his dinner, as you see, but they assault him in his chamber and even in bed, so that he is obliged to be watched while he is sleeping for fear of them.”

The captain jumped for joy; he remembered poor Whittington and his cat, and told the King he had a creature on board the ship that would despatch all these vermin immediately.  The King’s heart heaved so high at the joy which this news gave him that his turban dropped off his head.  “Bring this creature to me,” says he; “vermin are dreadful in a court, and if she will perform what you say, I will load your ship with gold and jewels in exchange for her.”  The captain, who knew his business, took this opportunity to set forth the merits of Mrs Puss.  He told his majesty that it would be inconvenient to part with her, as, when she was gone, the rats and mice might destroy the goods in the ship—­but to oblige his Majesty he would fetch her.  “Run, run!” said the Queen; “I am impatient to see the dear creature.”