To those ensconced behind the spice-rack, this pantry promised almost mythical surfeit! Also a swift demise, as Puss feathered across the floor and bounded stealthily onto the shelf. The mice panicked and scattered. One simply froze, terrified, as an impatient paw clawed the air behind the spice-rack, which wobbled, then toppled: a sudden mess of shattered glass and fragrance.
“Thieving cat!” screamed Cook, before an indignant yowl arced a trajectory towards the door.
Later, the sated mice slept. Paradise could wait another day.