The Tale of Miss Kitty Cat Page 2

  Frisky Squirrel stopped, sat down, and looked up at Mr. Crow in the treeabove him.

  "Why not?" Frisky inquired.

  "Haven't you heard the news?" Mr. Crow asked him. "Haven't you heardthat there's a cat at the farmhouse?"

  "I didn't know it," Frisky admitted. "But I don't see why I should turnback. I won't hurt her."

  Old Mr. Crow _haw-hawed_.

  "I don't believe," he croaked, "you've ever met a cat."

  "No, I haven't," Frisky Squirrel replied, "but I'd like to see one. SoI'll be on my way. But don't worry, Mr. Crow? I won't hurt her." Andthen Frisky started off along the top of the stone wall once more, at asomewhat brisker pace to make up for lost time.

  "He can't say I didn't warn him," Mr. Crow exclaimed as he watched thebouncing bit of gray fur.

  "I hope Mr. Crow won't worry," said Frisky Squirrel to himself. "If thecat gets hurt it will be her own fault, for I certainly won't harm her."

  When Frisky reached the farmyard he crept around a corner of the barn,hoping to find a few kernels of corn. But Henrietta Hen had been therebefore him and there wasn't one kernel left. He ran here and there aboutthe yard. And at last, when quite near the woodshed door, he sat upsuddenly, twitched his nose a few times, and said, "Ha! I smellbeechnuts!"

  Now, that was not strange. Johnnie Green had been eating beechnuts inthe woodshed doorway. And he had scattered the shucks on the broadstone step. Frisky Squirrel began nosing them. And just out of sightinside the woodshed Miss Kitty Cat awoke from a short nap, stopped rightin the middle of a long stretch, and said, "Ha! I smell a squirrel!"

  Miss Kitty Cat was wide awake in an instant. She flattened herself uponthe woodshed floor and crept silently to the door. Though she didn'tmake the slightest sound, all at once Frisky Squirrel's nose twitchedagain, as he muttered to himself, "There's a very queer smell aboutthese beechnut shucks!"

  He was sitting on the edge of the stone doorstep with a bit of beechnutclutched in his paws. And when he looked up and saw somebody's noseappear in the doorway he tumbled right over backward. The only sound hemade came from the beechnut shuck, which made a faint click as it fellupon the stone. And Miss Kitty Cat's sharp ears caught it.

  VII

  TWO IN A TREE

  WHEN Miss Kitty Cat dashed out of the woodshed Frisky Squirrel was twojumps ahead of her. That was really a better lead than it sounds. Friskywas always a good jumper. And the more scared he was, the further hecould leap. Anybody that knew him well would have known then--just tosee him--that something had given him a great fright.

  First he had noticed a strange smell. Next he had seen a strange nosecome stealing out of the woodshed door. And not knowing who was going tofollow that nose, Frisky Squirrel felt that the sooner he climbed atree the better it would be for him. So he made for a tall elm thatwasn't too far away.

  Though Miss Kitty Cat was a fast runner, Frisky reached the foot of thetree ahead of her. And he was half way to the lowest branches before hetook a real look at his pursuer.

  To his dismay he saw that the creature hadn't stopped at the foot of thetree. The monster had already begun climbing after him. Frisky had neverseen any one just like this fierce person. One look was enough for him.He pushed higher and higher into the tree-top and crept far out on adrooping limb, which swayed beneath his weight as he clung to it.

  There he paused, while he watched to see what the stranger would do. Andas he stared at the creature he remembered suddenly what Mr. Crow hadtold him. "There's a cat at the farmhouse," the old gentleman had said.

  "This must be the cat," Frisky thought. And to her he called, "If you'rethe cat, don't come any nearer, madam! You might get hurt." For heremembered, too, that he had told Mr. Crow that he wouldn't harm thecat.

  "It _is_ the cat," he said to himself presently, "for she has stopped."

  Miss Kitty Cat did not quite dare follow Frisky Squirrel to the tipwhere he swung. She crouched upon the branch a little way from him,where it was safer for her, and with switching tail and bristlingwhiskers waited to see what he would do next.

  "It makes me uneasy to see you swaying so," she told Frisky. "Besides,you're shaking this limb. And I don't like it."

  "She's a fussy creature--this cat!" Frisky said to himself. "I promisedMr. Crow I wouldn't hurt her; but I didn't promise him that I wouldn'ttease her." So he bobbed up and down with all his might.

  "Stop!" cried Miss Kitty Cat. "That's a very reckless thing to do. It'slike rocking the boat."

  "I think it's the finest sport in the world," Frisky chuckled.

  "I know a finer," Miss Kitty snarled.

  "What that?" he asked her.

  "If I could get my claws on you I'd soon show you," she told him grimly.

  Somehow there was something about her remark that startled FriskySquirrel--something that made him shiver. And when he shivered he losthis hold. Down he dropped, slipping and floundering from one branch toanother.

  And down Miss Kitty Cat followed him.

  VIII

  NINE LIVES

  FRISKY SQUIRREL was much more at home in the trees than Miss Kitty Catwas. While Frisky managed at last to cling to a limb and right himself,Miss Kitty lost her footing and fell out of the tree completely.

  "Oh! She'll he hurt!" Frisky cried as he saw her turning and twistingthrough the air. But to his great surprise she struck with all her fourfeet on the ground, quite unharmed. "You did that very nicely," hecalled to her generously.

  But she didn't answer. To tell the truth, she felt rather foolishbecause she had fallen out of the tree. And she walked back to thewoodshed and stalked through the doorway without saying a word.

  After that adventure Frisky Squirrel decided to go back home. So hescurried town the tree-trunk and scampered to the stone wall, andscooted along the top of it.

  Old Mr. Crow was watching for him. And as before, he dropped down nearthe wall to talk.

  "I hardly expected to see you again," Mr. Crow remarked. "You couldn'thave met the cat."

  "Yes!" said Frisky. "I met her. She followed me up a tree. And it's awonder she didn't get hurt, though I was careful of her. She had a fall;but she landed beautifully."

  Old Mr. Crow nodded wisely.

  "She always lands on her feet," he observed. "And you needn't worryabout her," he added. "You know, they say she has nine lives."

  "Nine lives!" Frisky Squirrel exclaimed. "What do you mean, Mr. Crow?"

  Now, Mr. Crow really knew a great deal, because he had lived many years.And he pretended to know still more, because he liked to appear learned.But this question was a puzzler for him. He simply couldn't answer it.

  "You wouldn't understand, even if I explained," he told Frisky Squirrel.And then he flew away, leaving Frisky to run home and wonder what itmeant to have nine lives.

  As for Mr. Crow, he suddenly made up his mind that he would find outabout Miss Kitty Cat's nine lives. He would ask that lady herself. So heflapped himself over to the big elm in the farmyard, where he cawed andcawed, hoping that Miss Kitty Cat would appear to see what all the noisewas about.

  And sure enough! she soon bounced out of the woodshed door and looked upat Mr. Crow inquiringly.

  "I've been hearing a good deal about; you," Mr. Crow called down to herin what he considered his sweetest tones, though anybody else would havesaid they were quite hoarse. "I know you always manage to land on yourfeet--and I can understand that. But what's this I hear about _ninelives?_"

  Miss Kitty Cat only stared at him.

  "Perhaps you don't feel like talking," said Mr. Crow. "If you've justhad a fall, maybe you're still a bit shaken up, even if you did land onyour feet. Perhaps you'd rather I came back later."

  Miss Kitty Cat suddenly found her voice.

  "You've been gossiping with that young squirrel!" she snapped. "I'llhave you know that I'm not shaken up at all. But I'd shake you up if Icould get hold of you!"

  Mr. Crow was astonished. He was sure he had been most polite. Yet herewas Miss Kitty Cat as r
ude as she could be!

  He amused himself by jeering at her until she turned her back on him andwent inside the woodshed. And he had to go away without learninganything at all about the nine lives of Miss Kitty Cat. They alwaysremained a deep mystery. Everybody agreed that the number was nine. Butbeyond that, nobody could explain about them.

  IX

  THE STOLEN CREAM

  "I DECLARE!" Farmer Green's wife cried one day. "Somebody's beenstealing my cream in the buttery."

  The buttery was a big bare room on the shady side of the house, wheregreat pans of milk stood on a long table. When the cream was thickenough on the milk Mrs. Green skimmed it off and put it in cans. At oneend of the buttery there was a trap door in the floor. When the trap wasraised you could look right down into a well. And into its cool depthsMrs. Green dropped her cans of cream by means of a rope, which shefastened to a beam under the floor, so the tops of the cans would stayout of the water.

  Mrs. Green made butter out of that cream. So it was no wonder she wasupset when she discovered that some one had meddled with one of her pansof milk.

  "It can't be the cat," said Farmer Green's wife. "The buttery door hasbeen shut tight all the time."

  Miss Kitty Cat was right there in the kitchen while Mrs. Green wastalking to her husband. And it was easy to see that Miss Kitty agreedwith her mistress. She came close to Mrs. Green and purred, saying quiteplainly that she was a good, honest cat and that she deserved to bepetted. At least, that was what Mrs. Green understood her to mean.

  Often, after that, Mrs. Green discovered traces of the thief in thebuttery. Flecks of cream on the side of a milk pan, drops of cream onthe table, smudges of cream now and then on the floor! Such signs meantsomething. But Farmer Green's wife couldn't decide what.

  And another strange thing happened. Miss Kitty Cat lost her appetite formilk. She would leave her saucer of milk untasted on the kitchen floor.

  Now and then Mrs. Green picked Miss Kitty up and looked closely at herface. At such times Miss Kitty purred pleasantly. She did not seem to bethe least bit disturbed.

  One evening, after dark, Johnnie Green went into the buttery to get apail. The moment he opened the door there was a crash and a clatterinside the room.

  Johnnie jumped back quickly.

  "There's somebody in the buttery!" he shouted.

  But when his father brought a light they found no one there. A tindipper lay on the floor.

  "When you opened the door it must have jarred the dipper off the edge ofthe table," said Farmer Green.

  "_Meaow!_" said a voice behind them. There stood Miss Kitty Cat, sayingthat everything _must_ have happened exactly as Farmer Green said.

  "She couldn't have been in here, could she?" Farmer Green puzzled."Come, Kitty!" And he picked up Miss Kitty and held her where the lightfell full upon her face. "Clean as a whistle!" said Farmer Green. "Iguess she just followed us in." He set her down again. And once more,with a plaintive _meaow_ she agreed with him perfectly.

  X

  A CREAMY FACE

  FARMER GREEN'S wife threw away pan after pan of milk, because she knewsomebody had been stealing cream off the top of them. At least, she toldFarmer Green to feed the milk to the pigs, because she wasn't going tomake butter of any cream that had been tampered with by goodness knewwhom or what. And old dog Spot said that feeding good creamy milk to thepigs was just the same as throwing it away. He made that remark to MissKitty Cat, adding that it was a shame that somebody was stealing creamand declaring that he hoped to catch the thief.

  Miss Kitty Cat made no reply whatsoever.

  "Don't you hope I'll catch the guilty party?" Spot asked her.

  "Please don't speak to me!" Miss Kitty Cat exclaimed impatiently. "Idon't enjoy your talk; and you may as well know it."

  "Very well!" said Spot. "But when I catch him I'll let you know."

  "She's jealous," Spot thought. "She knows I'm a good watch dog. And shecan't bear the idea of my catching a thief."

  It was hard, usually, to tell how Miss Kitty Cat felt about anything.She was a great one for keeping her opinions to herself. It seemed as ifshe wanted to be let alone by every one except Farmer Green's family.

  Having boasted about catching the cream thief, old dog Spot began towatch the buttery very carefully. Search as he would, he couldn't find achink anywhere that was big enough even for a mouse to squeeze through.

  One day he happened to catch a glimpse of something moving under theroof of the shed next the buttery. To his amazement he saw Miss KittyCat slip through an old stove-pipe hole that pierced the great chimneywhich led down into the buttery, where there was an ancient fireplacewhich hadn't been used for years and years. Miss Kitty Cat crept along atiebeam and hid herself in a pile of odds and ends that somebody hadstowed high up under the roof and left there to gather dust andcob-webs.

  "Ah, ha!" said Spot under his breath. "This is interesting."

  When Miss Kitty Cat visited the kitchen a little later there wasn't aspeck of dirt on her coat. And her face was spotless. No one would haveguessed that she had ever made her way through an old chimney.

  Old dog Spot said nothing to her then. But he chuckled to himself. Hehad a plan that pleased him hugely.

  All this happened on a morning. And late that afternoon when Miss KittyCat wasn't anywhere to be seen, and Farmer Green's wife opened thebuttery door to get a pitcher of cream for supper, Spot suddenly beganto bark in the shed. He scrambled up a stepladder that leaned againstthe wall and stood on the top of it while he pawed the air frantically,as if he were trying to fly.

  The noise brought Mrs. Green hurriedly out of the buttery. And she wasjust in time to see Miss Kitty Cat peer out of the old stove-pipe hole,with a _creamy_ look about her mouth.

  Well, the cat was out of the bag at last. Or perhaps it would be moreexact to say that Miss Kitty was out of the buttery. Anyhow, it was veryplain to Mrs. Green that she had been in the buttery only a momentbefore, lapping thick cream off a pan of milk. And she hadn't had timeto wash her face.

  After that Farmer Green stopped up the stove-pipe hole. And soon MissKitty's appetite for milk returned. When Mrs. Green set out her saucerof milk for her Miss Kitty lapped it up greedily--and even licked thesaucer clean.

  Old dog Spot watched her with a grin.

  "I let you know when I caught the cream thief, just as I promised you Iwould," he jeered.

  Miss Kitty wiped her face very carefully before replying.

  "Don't boast!" she said. "It's a disagreeable thing to do.... Besides,_I_ knew--_long before you did_--who was taking Mrs. Green's cream."

  XI

  THE WRENS' HOME

  THERE wasn't a bird on the farm that didn't dislike Miss Kitty Cat. Andthere was only one bird family that didn't live in dread of her. Thatwas the Wren family. And they had a good reason for feeling safe fromMiss Kitty.

  Miss Kitty Cat always spluttered whenever she unbent herself enough totalk with anybody about Rusty Wren and his busy little wife, who hadtheir home in the cherry tree outside Farmer Green's window.

  "The Wrens needn't feel so proud of their house," Miss Kitty Catsometimes said. "It's nothing but an old syrup can. And I know for afact that Mrs. Bluebird looked at it last spring when she was huntingfor a home. And she said she wouldn't live in such a place. I heard hertell her husband so."

  Now, the reason why Mr. and Mrs. Wren liked their house and the reasonwhy Miss Kitty Cat didn't were one and the same: Miss Kitty couldn't getinside it. The mouth of the syrup can, which the Wren family used for adoor, was no bigger than a quarter of a dollar. It was entirely toosmall for Miss Kitty Cat, though it was big enough to admit Rusty Wrenand his plump wife.

  Miss Kitty said everything she could to persuade the Wren family tobuild themselves a nest in a crotch of the tree, like other birds.

  "I'm sure," she told them, "you'd like such a home much better thanthis. There's no reason why you shouldn't be as fashionable as everybodyelse. You wouldn't have to look for a place to bui
ld. There's roomenough right in this old cherry tree for a hundred happy homes ifanybody wanted to build them."

  "We like our house," Rusty Wren said.

  "I wouldn't move, even if he wanted to," Mrs. Wren declared.

  "Maybe you'd move because he _doesn't_ want to," Miss Kitty Catsuggested.

  But Mrs. Wren shook her head in a most decided way.

  "No!" she said. "I'm satisfied with my house. And our neighbors would befar better off if they built as we do, inside a snug sort of box."

  "You'll never know what you're missing," Miss Kitty remarked, "if youdon't try an open nest sometime. Now, only yesterday I visited JollyRobin's family over in the orchard. And their youngsters certainly didlook beautiful. But you keep yours hidden inside that old syrup canwhere nobody can see them. It's a shame that the public can't have achance to admire such fine nestlings as you must have in there."

  Miss Kitty Cat was sitting under the cherry tree. And she looked up andsmiled most agreeably at Mrs. Wren.

  Rusty Wren looked thoughtful.

  "There's something in what she says," he whispered to his wife. "It istoo bad not to let the neighbors admire the finest nestlings in PleasantValley."

  "You know they say a cat may look at a king," Miss Kitty simpered."Well, a fortnight ago I went over to the pine woods and had a look at aRuby Crowned Kinglet's family. So it seems only fair that I shouldn'tbe denied a look at your little wrenlets."