The Tale of Miss Kitty Cat | Page 4

nothing more to worry about except his scratched nose, old Spot crawled under the woodshed and nursed his wounds during the rest of the morning.
As for Miss Kitty Cat, she stayed in the barn a long time.
"What a worthless fellow that old dog is!" she thought. "This barn is full of mice! I don't believe he has caught one in all the years he has lived on the farm."

V
SPOTS AND SPECKLES
WHEN she first met Miss Kitty Cat face to face Henrietta Hen exclaimed, "What a pity!"
Miss Kitty Cat hadn't intended to speak to Henrietta Hen at all. She didn't care, as a rule, to have anything to do with hens. She often remarked that she liked eggs and she liked chickens; but she never could see what hens were good for.
Well, when Henrietta Hen spoke to her like that Miss Kitty Cat paused and stared at her coolly for a moment or two. Then she asked in rather a distant tone, "What's a pity?"
Now, Henrietta Hen seldom knew when she was snubbed. And goodness knows people snubbed her often enough, too. For she was forever making remarks about their looks. And now she said to Miss Kitty Cat, "It's a pity your speckles are so big."
Miss Kitty Cat saw at once that Henrietta Hen was a vain creature. She had half a mind to walk on and leave her, without saying another word to her. Indeed, Miss Kitty had turned aside to continue her stroll towards the meadow when Henrietta Hen spoke to her again.
"Don't you think," Henrietta demanded, "that speckles should be worn very small, like mine? Don't you think yours are too big?"
"I'd rather not talk with you," said Miss Kitty Cat. "I can see plainly that we'd never agree."
"Oh, do stop for a while!" Henrietta Hen besought her. "I love a chat with a cat," she added with a silly giggle.
Miss Kitty Cat was vexed. She thought that Henrietta Hen was a tiresome person.
"Ill stop and have a chat with you," Miss Kitty relented, "for it's not often that I meet a spotted hen. If my speckles are too big," she went on in an icy tone, "it is just as true that your spots are altogether too small."
"Spots!" Henrietta cackled. Like all empty-headed people, she was quick to lose her temper. "Spots indeed! I'd have you know that I haven't any spots. I'm a speckled beauty--that's what I am. And if you don't believe it you can ask the Rooster."
"Perhaps I was mistaken," Miss Kitty Cat purred. "Anyhow, I'll take your word about the Specks. I won't bother to ask the Rooster."
"Ah!" Henrietta Hen exclaimed. "You're afraid of him! You're afraid he might want to fight you. And I wish he would," she screamed at Miss Kitty, "for it's plain that you're no gentleman."
"Well--I should hope not!" Miss Kitty Cat gasped.
"I thought you were a gentleman, or I should never have spoken to you," Henrietta Hen declared. "When I first saw you I said to myself, 'Here's a quiet, polite gentleman! It will be pleasant to have him living at the farmhouse.' But I see that I was mistaken."
"You were!" cried Miss Kitty, who was--to say the least--greatly astonished by Henrietta's odd remarks. "My name is Miss Kitty Cat. And what made you think I was a gentleman is more than I can guess."
"Miss!" cried Henrietta. "Miss! Then why, pray tell me, do you wear those whiskers?"
Try as she would, Miss Kitty could give no reason that satisfied Henrietta Hen. And Henrietta always declared that Miss Kitty Cat was a strange, strange person.

VI
BEECHNUT SHUCKS
ONCE in a while Frisky Squirrel paid a visit to Farmer Green's place. Although he had learned that the farmyard was not without its dangers, after one adventure Frisky was always sure to return, sometime, as if in search of another.
So a certain fine, fall day found him scampering along the top of the stone wall that followed the road as it dropped down the hill from the woods to Farmer Green's front gate.
Old Mr. Crow, sailing lazily over the yellowing fields, caught sight of the stone wall traveller and glided into a tree beside the road. "You'd better not go near the farmyard, young fellow!" old Mr. Crow called.
Frisky Squirrel stopped, sat down, and looked up at Mr. Crow in the tree above him.
"Why not?" Frisky inquired.
"Haven't you heard the news?" Mr. Crow asked him. "Haven't you heard that there's a cat at the farmhouse?"
"I didn't know it," Frisky admitted. "But I don't see why I should turn back. 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. So I'll be on my way. But don't worry, Mr. Crow? I won't hurt her." And