The Cat Carnival at Three Crooked Chimneys

In the highest attic of the house called Three Crooked Chimneys lived such a large cat gang that whenever they all yawned at once, the neighbours’ curtains wiggled.

There was Moustache Upholstery, who confused his cat bed with his hat. Princess Flufftail, whose tail was so long she wound it onto a spool before bedtime. Tiny Pip Whistle, the smallest cat for miles around but with a voice like a scooter horn. Socks McWhiskers, a black tomcat with four yellow socks. And, of course, Doctor Purrumble, who wore a paper crown because he said proper thinking required one.

One evening, exactly when the moon looked like a silver button and every cat ought to have been in pyjamas, something beneath the chest of drawers went:

“PEEEEP!”

It was not an ordinary peep. It was such a sparkly peep that the teaspoons in the drawer gave a tiny shiver. Then a little silver fish poked its nose out of the dust. It had blue-ribbon whiskers, fan-shaped fins, and a label on its side that said only: PEEP PEEP PEEP.

“That’s Sardine Whistle!” cried Tiny Pip. “Legend says that when she peeps three times, the Great Midnight Cat Carnival begins!”

“And what happens at a carnival?” asked Teacup, a kitten who was peeking from a huge porcelain cup.

“No one knows,” said Doctor Purrumble, straightening his crown. “But nothing must spill. And there may be biscuits.”

Sardine Whistle peeped a second time.

Rainbow ribbons tumbled from the attic beams. The wardrobe opened its doors by itself and sneezed out seventeen hats, two feathers, one heart-shaped balloon, and a very surprised mouse called Rustle, who was carrying a crumb of cheese.

“I only came for crumbs,” squeaked the mouse.

“Then you came to the right place,” smiled Princess Flufftail. “Tonight, crumbs are dancing!”

And they were. The cheese crumb spun on a little stool like a yellow dancer.

Sardine Whistle peeped a third time.

BUMP! Lanterns burst into warm light. BRING! The old lamp started playing twinkly beams. WHOOSH! Socks McWhiskers slid down the banister into a bowl of wool and rolled out as a striped ball.

“This is exactly my sport!” he shouted, rolling in circles.

The carnival began with a contest for the strangest dance step. Moustache Upholstery performed Eight Cushions and None Under My Bottom. Princess Flufftail danced The Tail Spiral with a Surprise. Tiny Pip did Three Hops, Four Sneezes, and One Grand Paw Clap.

Then Doctor Purrumble took the floor.

“I shall perform the Royal Backwards Tippy-Toe!” he announced.

He took one step backwards, then another, then another… and sat directly in the teacup beside Teacup.

“My apologies,” he said grandly. “I had planned to land elsewhere.”

Teacup giggled so hard a tiny bubble of tea foam fell off his forehead. “Now we’re a tea orchestra!”

But suddenly Sardine Whistle frowned. Her ribbon whiskers stopped sparkling.

“What’s wrong?” asked all fourteen cats at once.

Sardine pointed a fin at the great attic clock. Its hand was creeping toward midnight, beneath words that said: THE CARNIVAL ENDS UNLESS SOMEONE LAUGHS FOR REAL.

Everyone became quiet.

“I can make a silly face,” said Socks McWhiskers, tying his tail into a bow.

“I can stand on one paw,” offered Princess Flufftail.

“I can…” began Doctor Purrumble, but his paper crown slid over his eyes.

Nobody laughed. Everyone was trying much too hard.

Then Teacup spoke in a tiny voice.

“Maybe we don’t have to be the funniest,” he said. “Maybe we only have to notice what is already funny.”

The cats looked around.

Moustache had his cat bed on his head instead of a hat. Socks was wrapped in wool, with only his yellow socks showing. Doctor Purrumble wore his crown like spectacles. Rustle the mouse stood on the cheese crumb, pretending very seriously to conduct the whole house.

Then Tiny Pip hiccupped.

“HEEP!”

Sardine answered:

“PEEP!”

The lamp played:

“BRING!”

Doctor Purrumble sneezed so gently that his crown bounced onto his tail.

First Teacup laughed. Then Princess Flufftail. Socks laughed until his wool ball bounced onto his nose. Moustache laughed, Rustle laughed, and Doctor Purrumble laughed. Soon the whole attic was laughing, the whole staircase was laughing, and perhaps even the moon outside was laughing, because a small silver dimple appeared on it.

The clock chimed.

Sardine Whistle glowed so brightly that a tiny star rolled from every scale. Each cat received one—not for the prettiest dance, or the highest jump, but for knowing how to laugh together.

Then the carnival gently floated to its end. The lanterns dimmed, the balloon curled up in a corner, and the ribbons folded themselves into a drawer.

The cats squeezed into one enormous cuddle-pile. Princess Flufftail wrapped her tail around everyone. Socks McWhiskers took off his yellow socks only halfway. Doctor Purrumble placed his crown on a shelf and said:

“The best kingdom rule is this: when it is night and everybody is sleepy, cuddles are compulsory.”

“And the second rule?” whispered Teacup.

“Never put a sardine in an alarm clock,” said the doctor.

From beneath the chest of drawers came one final tiny:

“Peep.”

Because it sounded almost exactly like good night, every cat closed its eyes. Only Rustle the mouse guarded the last cheese crumb for a little longer. Then he divided it into fifteen pieces.

That was very cat-like of a mouse.

And in the attic at Three Crooked Chimneys, everything was safe, soft, and so cheerful that the cats dreamed about it for a very long time.