Chapter II: Part 2

"Hurry, hurry!" cried Puss, looking back. "I'll run ahead and ask the Captain to wait."

And it was lucky he did, for the gang-plank was being hauled in just as he arrived. "Wait for us!" he shouted.

"Why, I don't see anybody else," said the Captain, as Puss stepped aboard.

"Yes, there is," answered Puss, "There she comes!"

And in another minute, with her bonnet strings streaming in the wind, the little girl came running down the dock.

"Thank you for waiting," she cried, turning to the Captain. "I'd have been so disappointed if you had left me behind."

And then she stood close to Puss as the good ship left the dock. "Good luck, my little skipper," shouted the old sailor.

"Good-by," cried Puss, waving his cap to the old salt.

OVER THE WATER

WHEN the old dock and the gray-haired sailor, the tall church spire and the flag on the little red schoolhouse were out of sight, Puss, Junior, turned to the little girl and said: "Let's go down in the cabin. I'll show you the cutest little baby you ever saw. It's the 'rock-a-by, baby, upon-the-tree-top.' His mother always hung the cradle on a willow tree so that the breeze might rock him to sleep. But now the ocean does the rocking and baby sleeps almost all the time."

So the little girl followed Puss down the stairs to the cabin, where they heard a sweet voice singing:

"Over the water, and over the sea,
And over the water to Charley.
I'll have none of your horrid beef,
Nor I'll have none of your barley:
But I'll have some of your very best flour
To make a white cake for my Charley."

"S-s-sh!" said the mother of the baby as Puss and the little girl came in.

"Are you going to make a cake with the flour the miller brought on board?" asked Puss in a whisper.

"Yes," said the baby's mother. "But what's your name?" turning to the little girl.

"She's looking for Bobby Shafto," answered Puss.

"What's your name, little girl," asked the rock-a-by-baby's mother.

"Alice," said the little girl.

"A pretty name."

"I'm glad you like it," said the little girl. "And what is yours?"

"Mine? Oh, you can call me 'The Rock-a-by Baby's Mother.'"

"Let's go out on deck," suggested Puss. "Won't you come, too?" he asked, turning to the baby's mother.

Rolling in the sea were huge black porpoises. Over and over they rolled like great footballs. Flying fish rose out of the water, and overhead the gulls sailed back and forth on their great wings. The breeze was blowing strong and steady, and now and then the salt spray came over the railing. Some of it wet Puss, Junior's, whiskers.

"Did you get wet?" asked Alice.

"Not much," said Puss. "Besides, I don't care for a little spray, anyway."

"Come over here and sit down on this coil of rope," said the Rock-a-By-Baby's Mother, and I'll sing you a song:

"Rock-a-by, rock-a-by on the deep blue,
Sailor Boy, Mother is dreaming of you.
Thinking of Sailor Boy out on the foam,
Hoping that Sailor Boy soon will be home."

CUSTARD AND MUSTARD

FOR several days the good ship, with the four and twenty sailor mice and the duck captain, sailed over the big blue sea. Puss, Junior, learned to climb the mast and to run out to the very tip of the great boom to tie a rope for Captain Duck when it was blowing a gale. The Rock-a-By-Baby's Mother made a most delicious cake with the flour which the 'rusty, dusty' miller had sent on board, and altogether it was a most enjoyable trip, and when the good ship put into port on the fifth day everybody was sorry.

Even the little girl who was waiting for Bobby Shafto to come home told Puss she had forgotten all about him.

Well, as soon as the ship was fast to the dock, Puss said good-by to Captain Duck and the sailor mice.

"I hope Bobby Shafto will return soon," he whispered to the little girl as he kissed her good-by.

"I shall miss you very much," he said to the Rock-a-By-Baby's mother.

"Will you, my dear Puss?" she answered, giving him a hug. "You're a dear little cat! I hope you soon find your father. When you do, tell him he has a fine little son--tell him that from me, won't you?"

And after that Puss went upon his way, and by and by, after a while he found himself on a broad highway. "I wonder what will happen next?" he said to himself, and just then he came to a small house near the road. So he stopped at the front gate to listen to a sweet voice singing:

"When Jacky's a very good boy
He shall have cakes and a custard;
But when he does nothing but cry
He shall have nothing but mustard."

Puss opened the gate and peeped through the window. In the centre of the room stood a small boy, wiping his eyes with a little pink handkerchief.

"Nothing but mustard," repeated his mother, "if you don't stop crying."

"Meow!" cried Puss at the window. "Won't you give me some custard?" And then, my goodness! didn't that little boy stop crying!

"Look at the cat with boots on!" he cried, running up to the window.

"You both shall have some custard," said Jack's mother, "and then you may go out to the swing and have a good time."

Well, it didn't take long to eat the custard, and then Jacky and Puss went out under the big tree.

"Swing high, swing low.
Away we go,
Up to the skies,
Down to the ground;
This is the finest
Sport I've found,"

sang Puss, Junior.

"After supper, Jacky, I'll tell you how I was a sailor boy for almost a week on the ocean blue!"

ROWLEY FROG

NOW let me think what happened after Puss finished telling how he had been a sailor for a week on the ocean blue.

Oh yes, of course. He had scarcely said good-by to the little boy when whom should he meet but Mr. Rowley Frog and a big rat.

"So you're going to make a call on Mrs. Mousey," said Puss, as he and Mr. Rowley Frog and the rat reached the dusty highway.

"Yes, sir-ee," replied Mr. Rowley Frog. "She lives just over there." And when Puss looked across the meadow he saw a cute little house.

"Looks like a pretty nice little place," said the rat; "let's hurry along." So all three started off on a run.

When they came to the door of Mousey's hall,
Heigh-ho, says Rowley.
They gave a loud knock, and they gave a loud call.
Pray, Mrs. Mouse, are you within?
Heigh-ho, says Rowley!
Oh, yes, kind sirs, I'm sitting to spin.

"I guess she's too busy," said Puss. "We'd better not interrupt her."

"Nonsense," replied Mr. Rowley Frog, bowing to Mrs. Mousey, who happened just then to look out of her little window. Then Mr. Rat took off his cap and said:

"Pray, Mrs. Mouse, will you give us some beer?"
Heigh-ho, says Rowley.
"For Froggy and I are fond of good cheer."

"Indeed, I will not," said Mrs. Mousey. "You ought to be ashamed of yourself! And as for Mr. Anthony Rowley, he must throw away that horrid cigar if he wants to call on me."

Well, goodness gracious! Didn't Mr. Rowley look ashamed! He threw his cigar away at once, and Mr. Rat hid behind Puss, he was so embarrassed, and as soon as Mrs. Mousey saw that they were both truly sorry for what they had done, she smiled and said:

"Pray, Mr. Frog, will you give us a song?"
Heigh-ho, says Rowley.
"But let it be something that's not very long."
"Indeed, Mrs. Mouse," replied the Frog,
Heigh-ho, says Rowley.
"I've caught quite a cold, for it's damp in the bog."
"Since you have caught cold, Mr. Frog," Mousey said,
Heigh-ho, says Rowley.
"I'll sing you a song that I have just made."

But first she opened the door and invited them in. "I'm not afraid of you," she said to Puss, "for I know you are Mr. Puss in Boots, Junior."

Well, just as soon as they were all seated, she began to sing:

"Mrs. Mousey has a housey,
Very small and trim,
Nice Swiss cheeses good for sneezes,
Filled up to the brim.
Also candy, fine and dandy,
Ice cream soda, too,
If you're nice to little mice,
I'll give some to you."

"I'll see that my two small friends behave," said Puss, with a grin.

MRS. MOUSEY

"WHAT will you have?" Mrs. Mousey asked Puss, Junior, as she opened the cupboard door.

"I'll have a strawberry ice-cream soda," said Puss. So Mrs. Mousey poured some red syrup into the glass and dropped in a ball of ice cream, and after that she held the glass under a regular soda-fountain spigot which was fastened to a cute little ice-box. "Fiz-z-z, fiz-z-z!" went the water until the pink-colored foam almost ran over the edge of the glass. But it didn't. Wasn't that lucky?

"I'll take a pink and white peppermint stick," said Mr. Rowley Frog, and Mr. Rat said, "Cheese, if you please!" when Mrs. Mousey asked him what he would have.

"But while they were all a merry-making,
Heigh-ho!" says Rowley.
"A cat and her kittens came tumbling in."

And, oh dear me! Puss dropped his soda-water glass, and it broke all to smithereens. And then,

The cat she seized the rat by the crown:
Heigh-ho! says Rowley.
The kittens they pulled the little mouse down.

And after that the cat jumped through the open window with the rat and disappeared around the house, and the kittens ran out of the door with poor Mrs. Mouse.

Puss jumped through the window, but before he could catch them they ran into a hole just big enough for them to squeeze through, and Puss was left outside, wondering what to do. The old cat was nowhere to be seen. She had taken good care to get out of sight, for she knew that Puss, Junior, would take Mr. Rat away from her if he ever caught her.

"This put Mr. Frog in a terrible fright,
Heigh-ho, says Rowley!
He took up his hat, and he wished them good night."

"I'll go home to mother," he said when he reached the roadway. "I am getting homesick. I think the old pond is the best place for me."

"Home, sweet home, in the dear old pond,
That is the place for me.
I'll never go even a foot beyond,
I'll sit there and croak, and never will smoke,
In my pond by the grassy lea!"

"That's right," said Puss, as he hurried along with Rowley, who, now that he had made up his mind, could not get home fast enough.

"A wise frog stays in his bog,
And sits and croaks upon his log."

A SAD ENDING

"I'M very sorry for poor little Mrs. Mousey," said Puss, as he and Mr. Rowley Frog hastened toward the pond.

"So am I," answered Rowley. "She was very generous with all her good things to eat."

"And the poor rat," continued Puss. "It was a sad ending to our little feast. I guess he's been eaten up by this time. That naughty old cat looked very hungry."

"Oh dear, oh dear," sobbed Rowley, the tears rolling down his face, "I want to get home. I'll never run away again."

"But as Froggy was crossing over a brook,
Heigh-ho, says Rowley.
A lily-white duck came and gobbled him up,
So there was an end of one, two and three,
Heigh-ho, says Rowley.
The Rat, the Mouse and the little Frog-gee,
With a rowley, powley, gammon and spinach,
Heigh-ho, says Anthony Rowley!"

"This is dreadful," cried Puss, as he saw his small friend disappear down the duck's long neck; "it has been a sad day. All three of my little friends are gone."

"Never mind," cried the lily-white duck, looking up at Puss standing mournfully by the side of the brook, "Frogs are good to eat, and if they will run away from home, it's their own lookout. They should stay in their ponds and not go wandering about strange places."

Puss did not answer. It seemed pretty hard to meet such a sad fate, and he did not like the lily-white duck at all.

"Come, come," cried the duck, "cheer up, I'll ferry you across the brook if you wish to reach the other side."

"That's kind of you," said Puss, seating himself on her back.

"I'm not such a bad sort of duck," she continued, paddling swiftly toward the opposite bank, "but I must eat, and frogs are mighty good eating, let me tell you."

As she finished speaking she waddled up the bank, and Puss sprang nimbly from her back. "Thank you, Mrs. Duck," he said, "indeed, I'm obliged to you; but I wish you hadn't eaten my friend, the little frog."

Just then nine little yellow ducklings waddled toward them. "These are my children," said Mrs. Duck, very proudly.

"How are you, my little ducklets?" cried Puss.

"Quite well, thank you," they answered. It was a pretty sight to see those yellow balls of down cuddle up to their mother, and Puss began to feel that, after all, she must be a good sort of duck, for her children loved her so much. Perhaps he had judged her too harshly for gobbling up the frog, and when she turned to Puss and said:

"Come home with us, Mr. Puss," he forgave her for what she had done, and followed her downy, yellow brood.

BEAVER DAM

PUSS, JUNIOR, had gone but a short distance when he heard a sad voice say:

"Oh dear, I've lost my brother,
Where will I ever find another?
He never should have left the bog,
Alas, Alas! poor Rowley Frog!"

"Dear me," cried Puss to Mrs. Duck and he looked about him for the owner of the sad croaky voice. Pretty soon he saw a big bullfrog in a brook.

"Come along with me," cried Puss, Junior.

Just then a little muskrat jumped out of the water and from behind a tree ran a pretty gray squirrel and a striped chipmunk.

"Did you call us?" they asked Puss all at once.

"No, my little friends," he replied, "but come along," and when they reached Beaver Dam, they looked around to see what had become of the old bullfrog. There he was in the water about halfway down the stream, swimming away for all he was worth.

"Ker-chunk, ker-chunk!" he cried, as he came up to them, "Why don't you wait for a fellow? And why didn't you tell me you were going up stream?"

Puss, Junior, felt very sorry to think that he had really forgotten all about the old bullfrog.

"Well, you got here all right, didn't you?" asked the muskrat. "Now," he continued, "I'm going to knock three times on the dam to let Mr. Beaver know that we would like to cross."

After giving three loud knocks, Mr. Beaver looked over and said: "What's the matter? Who are you? What do you want? Where did you come from? Where are you going?"

"We'll answer the last question first," said Puss, Junior, with a grin. "We'd like to cross over on your beautiful great big dam."

"The toll is a penny," said the beaver, looking them over carefully.

"I haven't got a penny with me," said the little squirrel, "but I have a dandy big nut, if that will do."

"All right," said the beaver, "give me the nut." He put it in his pocket, remarking as he did so, "it looks like a good nut. I only hope I shall not be disappointed when I crack it."

Turning to the chipmunk, he said, "What have you got?"

"A little acorn," answered the chipmunk.

"I don't want any more nuts," said the beaver, disgustedly. "I'm not particularly fond of nuts, anyway. I only took this one from the squirrel because I knew he didn't have anything else."

"Here are two pennies, Mr. Beaver--one for Chipmunk and one for me," said Puss, Junior.

"All right, Sir Cat," said the beaver, "walk across, but see that you do not slip, for the water is very deep on the upper side."

Puss carefully wended his way over, followed by the little squirrel and the chipmunk. The old frog swam over, as did the muskrat. When they all reached the other side, Puss went forward, followed by his small comrades, who stretched out behind him like a funny little army.

They hadn't gone very far, when a rabbit jumped out from behind a bush. Puss, Junior, called out, "Don't be frightened. We won't hurt you."

"Baby!" cried the squirrel, "you're bigger than I am, but you're twice as much afraid."

"I'm going to a wedding," said the rabbit. "I've no time to wait!" and away he went.

"Gracious me!" exclaimed the squirrel. "I had forgotten all about Cock Robin's wedding! I must be going."

"And so must I," cried the chipmunk and the beaver, but what the old bullfrog said I will tell you in the next story.

DUCKLINGS

WELL, you will certainly agree with me that the old bullfrog, in the last story, is a wonderful fellow when you hear what he says about Mrs. Duck, and, it is all in poetry, too.

"Old Mother Duck has hatched a brood
Of ducklings, small and callow;
Their little wings are short, their down
Is mottled gray and yellow."

"There is a quiet little stream,
That runs into the moat,
Where tall green sedges spread their leaves
And water lilies float."

"Close by the margin of the brook
The old duck made her nest,
Of straw, and leaves, and withered grass,
And down from her own breast."

"And there she sat for four long weeks,
In rainy days and fine,
Until the ducklings all came out--
Four, five, six, seven, eight, nine."

"So this is your home," said Puss, Junior, as Mrs. Duck stepped into her nest, followed by her brood.

"One peeped out from beneath her wing,
One scrambled on her back;
"That's very rude," said old Mrs. Duck;
"Get off! quack, quack, quack, quack!"

"What do you do when it rains?" asked Puss, Junior.

"What do we do when it rains?" repeated Mrs. Duck, "why, what do you suppose a duck's feathers are good for? They shed the water as well as a barn roof. Yes, even better, for feathers are water-proof and shingles are not."

"Well, my good Mrs. Duck, of course it's all right for you and your family, but should it rain, what would I do? I couldn't possibly crawl under your wings."

"Not very well," laughed Mrs. Duck.

"But it's not going to rain," cried one little duck, peering out from between her feathers. "I know it's not going to rain, for there isn't a cloud in the sky."

Then all the little ducklings poked their heads out and cried, "It's not going to rain, it's not going to rain!"

"If it should, and there's no telling lately, for the weather has been so unsettled, I could take you up to the barnyard and introduce you to Molly Head," said Mrs. Duck, turning to Puss, Junior. "She has charge of all the poultry and is a very kind woman, very kind indeed."

"If I knew where to buy an umbrella," said Puss, after a pause, "I wouldn't mind a little shower, but you know how a cat hates to get wet."

"Yes, they make as much fuss over a little water as a hen does," laughed good Mrs. Duck.

A LESSON IN WADDLING

PUSS, JUNIOR, was very tired with his journey, so he cuddled up in the long grass close to Mrs. Duck's nest and he was soon fast asleep. Then Mrs. Duck tucked in her yellow ducklings and they were soon dreaming of nice fat worms and little silver fishes. By and by Mrs. Duck closed first one eye and then the other, and pretty soon she was asleep.

The wind played little lullabys in the tall grass and the brook close by murmured over its pebbly bottom. The crickets in the meadow made sleepy little noises, so that it must have been over an hour before anybody woke up.

"'Tis close," said Mrs. Duck, shoving out
The eggshells with her bill,
"Besides, it never suits young ducks
To keep them sitting still."
So, rising from her nest, she said,
"Now, children, look at me:
A well bred duck should waddle so,
From side to side--d'ye see?"

"I'll play duck too," said Puss, jumping to his feet and imitating Mrs. Duck. The ducklings looked at Puss in wonder.

"He'd make a fine duck," said one little duckling.

"If he had feathers instead of fur," laughed Mrs. Duck.

"If he had yellow stockings like ours," said another duckling, "instead of red-topped boots."

"Stop your quacking," cried Mrs. Duck. "Did you hear what I said about waddling just now?"

"Yes," said the little ones, and then
She went on to explain:
"A well bred duck turns in his toes
As I do--try again."

Puss, Junior, turned in his toes exactly the way they did, which made them laugh; even Mrs. Duck chuckled. "Look out," she cried, "or Puss, Junior, will do it better than you."

"Thank you, ma'am," said Puss with a grin.

"Won't you try to do better?" said Mrs. Duck, turning to her brood with an anxious expression on her kind face.

"Yes," said the Ducklings, waddling on,
"That's better," said their mother;
"But well bred ducks walk in a row,
Straight, one behind the other."

"I wish I had a drum," cried Puss, "I'd beat time. We could make believe we were soldiers." But Mrs. Duck did not answer. "Do your best," she said to her little brood.

"Yes," said the little ducks again,
All waddling in a row.
"Now to the pond," said old Mrs. Duck.
Splash, splash! and in they go.

"I wish I could swim," cried Puss; "it looks like great sport!"

HOW TO BE A DUCK

"LET me swim first," said old Mrs. Duck,
"To this side, now to that;
There, snap at those great brown-winged flies,
They make young ducklings fat."

"See who can swim the fastest," cried Puss. "Why don't you have a race?" The nine little ducklings stopped.

"Line up in a row," cried Puss, "and when I cry 'Go!' swim as fast as you can, and the one who reaches this bank first wins. I'll give a bright penny to the winner."

All the ducklings arranged themselves in a row, and when Puss cried "One, two, three, go!" they paddled away as hard as they could. Back and forth went their little yellow feet. Such a splashing! Nearer and nearer they came. One little duck flapped his wings upon the water and in this way managed to get ahead. He was the first to land.

"Here is your penny," cried Puss.

"What can I do with it, mother?" he asked.

"You can get a stick of candy to-morrow," replied his mother. "Not this afternoon, for it is time now to go home to the farm.

"Now when you reach the poultry yard
The hen-wife, Molly Head,
Will feed you with the other fowls
On bran and mashed-up bread."

Mrs. Duck came out of the water and shook herself well, sending quite a shower of water in little drops all about her. Puss jumped back to avoid a shower bath. The ducklings stood up on their toes and flapped their small wings. Then off they all went, Mrs. Duck in the lead. Puss followed behind, taking care not to step on the yellow toes of the last duckling.

As they neared the barnyard Mrs. Duck turned and said:

"The hens will peck and fight, but mind,
I hope that all of you
Will gobble up the food as fast
As well bred ducks should do."

The woman who took care of the poultry yard was already there. From a well filled pan she was scattering handfuls of corn in all directions. There were a great many chickens, who darted hither and thither, picking up the grains of corn. When the corn was all gone she set down a dish of food. No sooner had she done this than Mrs. Duck exclaimed:

"You'd better get into the dish
Unless it is too small;
In that case, I should use my foot
And overturn it all."

The ducklings did as they were bid,
And found the plan so good
That from that day the other fowls
Got hardly any food.

"My, but she's a wise old duck," said Puss to himself with a grin.

"WHEN I WAS A LITTLE BOY"

IT was a queer looking house that Puss, Junior, saw in the distance. It seemed more like a box, with another little box tacked on, through the top of which rose a long piece of stove pipe, which, I suppose, served as a chimney, although chimneys are usually made of bricks in Old Mother Goose Country.

On the front porch sat a little old man, smoking a pipe, from which the smoke drifted away in little gray clouds, while the smoke from the stovepipe chimney stretched out like a long black feather.

"Good-day," said Puss, taking off his hat.

"Come and rest beside me," said the old man, pushing forward an armchair. So Puss sat down, and after wiping the perspiration from his forehead remarked, "A warm day, my good sir."

"Yes, indeed," replied the little old man, "but all days seem very much alike to me."

"Do they?" asked Puss. "Why?"

"Well, I'll tell you the story of my life," said the little old man, and, taking his pipe from his lips, he began:

"When I was a little boy
I lived by myself,
And all the bread and cheese I got
I laid upon the shelf.
The rats and the mice
They made such a strife,
That I was forced to go to town,
And buy me a wife.
The streets were so broad,
And the lanes were so narrow,
I was forced to bring my wife home
In a wheelbarrow.
The wheelbarrow broke,
And my wife had a fall.
Farewell wheelbarrow, wife and all."

"And have you lived alone ever since?" asked Puss.

"Yes," replied the old man, "and the mice and the rats give me no peace. They eat up all my cheese and flour."

"I'll help you," said Puss. "Let me stay here to-night, and I'll catch every rat and mouse that bothers you inside the house."

"You can make up poetry as well as I can," said the old man, with a laugh. "Why, that's the first laugh I've had in many a long year. I like you, Sir Cat. You are an obliging sort of person. You shall have the best that my small home affords. I only hope you will rid the place of rats and mice."

"Leave that to me," replied Puss, with a grin.

GOOD RIDDANCE

NOW, let me see. In the last story we left little Puss, Junior, in the house of the old man who brought his wife home in a wheelbarrow. Well, Puss heard him take off his shoes and get into bed, and then out went the light. I guess the old man leaned out of bed and blew it out. But Puss didn't go to bed. Oh, my, no! He slipped off his red-topped boots, so as not to frighten the rats and the mice and stole softly over to the window. The moon was bright and the stars were twinkling in the sky.

"It's a long time since I've been a mouser!" laughed Puss to himself. "I wonder if I have lost my cunning?" And he sat down by the window and crossed his leg over the other. "Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse," and it was not the night before Christmas, either. Pretty soon the sound of scampering feet caught his ear, and, turning his head, he saw a dozen mice or more running over the floor, and after that two big rats stole softly across the old rag rug in front of the fireplace. With a leap, Puss landed close to the rats, and with his right paw, laid hold of the nearest, and with his left paw caught the other. "Squeak, squeak! Oh, let us go!" they cried.

"Not unless you promise to leave this house," replied Puss, fiercely, his whiskers standing out straight and his eyes glaring like two balls of fire.

"We will, we will!" squeaked the rats.

"Then go!" cried Puss, "and don't you ever come back!"

"We won't, we won't!" cried the terrified rats.

And after that Puss softly crept into the kitchen, where on the table sat three little mice eating a piece of cake. In a second Puss had them fast in his claws.

"Squeak, squeak!" screamed the little mice.

"I'll spare you," said Puss, glaring at them with eyes as bright as automobile lamps. "I'll let you go if you'll promise to leave this house with all your sisters and brothers and cousins and aunts and fathers and mothers and grandmothers and grandfathers, and all your friends, and everybody else that I can't think of, for I'm so mad I could eat you."

"Oh don't," they cried; "we'll go, we'll go! We'll promise to leave."

And after that the little old man was never bothered with rats and mice.

MISTER FOX

IT was late in the evening as Puss, Junior, entered a gloomy forest. It was very dark beneath the big, tall trees, so by and by he stopped and looked about him, when all of a sudden--

"A fox went out in a hungry plight,
And he begged of the moon to give him light,
For he'd many miles to trot that night."

Well, as soon as the Fox had finished asking Lady Moon to show him the way Puss cried out:

"Oh, Mr. Fox, take me with you, for I'm lost in this forest." But goodness me! the Fox was so frightened at the sound of Puss, Junior's, voice that he jumped behind a tree.

"Who speaks to me?" he asked, faintly.

"Puss in Boots, Junior."

"Ah," replied the Fox, coming out from his hiding place, "now I'm not afraid. At first I thought you were a farmer; farmers don't like me!"

"Why should they?" asked Puss. "You steal their ducks and chickens."

"Softly, softly!" whispered the Fox; "someone may hear you."

"Very well," replied Puss, "I'll whisper if you'll show me the way."

"Come along," replied the Fox. So they walked along through the dark forest, and every now and then the moon peeped through the tree tops to help Mr. Fox find his way, but for all that, the forest was very gloomy and Puss nearly stumbled two or three times and so did Mr. Fox.

"At first he came to a farmer's yard,
Where the ducks and geese declared it hard
That their nerves should be shaken and their rest be marred
By the visit of Mister Fox."

"Do you hear what they say about me?" asked the Fox in a whisper.

"They say you give them bad dreams," replied Puss; "that you keep them awake and ruin their nerves."

"Ha, ha!" laughed Mr. Fox, "what do they expect? Do they imagine I come here to sing them to sleep? To stand under the coop window and sing a lullaby? Ha, ha! I'm very fond of duck and very fond of goose, but not in that way. Oh, my, no!" And he grinned until all his long white teeth shone in the moonlight.

MR. SLIPPER-SLOPPER

WHEN Mr. Fox laughed he showed all his long, sharp teeth, and Puss was mighty glad he had his trusty staff with him in case Mr. Fox became ugly. But nothing unpleasant happened, and by and by they came to the hen-house.

Puss was peeking through a crack in the boards, but before he had time to utter a cry of warning, Mr. Fox,

Seized the black duck by the neck,
And swung her across his back;
The black duck cried out, "Quack! quack! quack!"
With her legs hanging dangling down.

and away he went, out through the door, across the barnyard and up the hill. And I guess Lady Moon wished she hadn't shown that bad old fox the way through the dark forest.

And after that Puss pounded on the kitchen door and shouted, "The fox has run off with the black duck!"

"What's the matter?" asked Mrs. Slipper-Slopper. "Who has taken the black duck?"

"Hurry up!" called Puss. "The fox has a good start; 'twill be hard to catch him."

So Mrs. Slipper-Slopper pulled in her head and pretty soon came thumping down the stairs and opened the door.

"Which way did the fox go?" asked Mr. Slipper-Slopper.

"Up the hill," said Puss.

"Where's my gun?" asked Mr. Slipper-Slopper, turning to his wife.

"Why, don't you remember, John?" she replied. "You lent it to old Neighbor Jones last week."

"So I did," said Mr. Slipper-Slopper. "Too bad!"

"Well, I'm going after him, anyway," cried Mr. Slipper-Slopper, picking up the broom. "If I catch him I'll hit him a whopper!"

"You wouldn't hit an old man like Neighbor Jones?" cried Mrs. Slipper-Slopper excitedly.

"No----the fox," cried Mr. Slipper-Slopper. "I mean the fox."

"You'd better put on your boots," said his wife. "You can't go in your slippers."

A DINNER INVITATION

GOODNESS me, Mr. Slipper-Slopper took so long to pull on his boots that Puss said, "Really, if you don't hurry the fox will be miles away, and you'll never get back your gray goose."

"Yes, John, you had better take this young cat's advice," cried Mrs. Slipper-Slopper.

"Then John, he went up to the hill,
And he blew a blast both loud and shrill;
Says the fox, 'This is very pretty music--still
I'd rather be at my den.'"

"Gracious me!" exclaimed Puss to himself, "Mr. Slipper-Slopper is crazy. Why does he blow his horn? It's bad enough to hunt a fox with a broom!"

"Look here, Mr. Slipper-Slopper," he cried, "you have no boots--you've nothing but slippers. You have no gun--you've nothing but an old broom. And what's more, you have no sense. You deserve to lose your gray goose and your black duck. Good-by." And Puss ran off in disgust.

"I've no use for a man who can't protect his own," he muttered to himself. "I won't help catch that fox. Let him have a feast. He must eat as well as Mr. Slipper-Slopper. Probably Mr. Slipper-Slopper would have killed the gray goose for dinner in a few days, anyhow."

"Helloa, what are you talking about?" cried Mr. Fox, jumping out from behind a large stone.

"So you think old Slipper-Slopper would have killed the goose and eaten it himself, do you?" asked the fox with a grin.

"Well," answered Puss, startled at the sudden appearance of Mr. Fox, "I thought it pretty mean of you to steal his goose, but now that I've found out what a foolish man Mr. Slipper-Slopper is, I'm glad you have a good dinner in store for yourself and family."

"That's very nice of you," said Mr. Fox, with another grin.

"Neither have I forgotten that you helped me out of the forest," continued Puss, "and I feel very friendly toward you."

"If that's the case," said the fox in a kind voice, "you come home with me and Mrs. Fox will give you some of the best roast duck you ever tasted in your life."

ROAST DUCK

PUSS, JUNIOR, accepted the invitation of Mr. Fox to dine, for he was hungry, and the very thought of roast duck for supper made his mouth water.

"Thank you, Mister Fox," he answered. "Let me carry the duck for you--the goose is enough of a load!"

"You are right," replied the fox, handing the duck to Puss. "It was a hard run up that hill. If I had known the farmer better, however, I wouldn't have hurried so."

"Well, lead the way, and I'll follow," said Puss.

"At last the fox got home to his den;
To his dear little foxes, eight, nine, ten,
Says he, 'you're in luck, here's a good fat duck,
With her legs hanging dangling down.'"

"This is Puss in Boots, Junior," he said, turning to his good wife, Mrs. Fox. "He has carried the duck for me, for I have a big fat goose."

Then Mrs. Fox asked Puss to sit down and rest while she cooked the supper, and the little foxes begged him to tell them a story.

"What kind of a story do you like?" asked Puss.

"Tell them how I crept into the hen-house and got away from old Mr. Slipper-Slopper," said Mr. Fox. "You keep them quiet and I'll pluck off the feathers while Mrs. Fox heats the oven. Then we'll lose no time in roasting the duck."

"All right," replied Puss, "I'll tell them about it," and as soon as Mr. Fox went out of the room Puss commenced.

"Your father and I crept softly into the barnyard and then your daddy tiptoed into the hen-house and said to Madam Goose: 'By your leave, I'll take you away and carry you home to my den Oh!' I'm not quite sure whether he or Madam Goose said 'Oh!' but that doesn't make any difference."

"I think it must have been Madam Goose," said a little fox. "I think she was frightened."

"Maybe you are right," said Puss, with a smile. "At any rate, when your father caught the black duck there was no mistake about what she said, it was 'Quack! quack! quack!'"

Well, just then Mr. Fox came in and said dinner was ready.

"He then sat down with his hungry wife.
They did very well without fork or knife.
They never ate a better goose in all their life;
And the little ones picked the bones!"

And Puss, Junior, had all he could eat, too.

TAFFY

"TAFFY was a Welshman, Taffy was a thief,
Taffy came to my house and stole a piece of beef;
I went to Taffy's house, Taffy wasn't home,
Taffy came to my house and stole a marrow-bone;
I went to Taffy's house, Taffy was in bed,
I took the marrow-bone and beat about his head."

"Well, I guess you did what was right," said Puss, Junior, as he and Tom Thumb neared a butcher shop in a small village.

The butcher, who had just spoken in rhyme, shifted from one foot to the other in an uneasy sort of way. "But that isn't all," he went on to say, in rather an anxious tone of voice.

"Tell us the worst, then," laughed Puss, Junior, who didn't appear very sympathetic, although the name Taffy appealed to him and made him wonder what sort of a person Taffy was.

"The truth of the matter is," the butcher went on to say, "I hit him a bit too hard with the marrow-bone. His head is in bad shape, and the doctor says it will be some weeks yet before Taffy gets out of bed."

"Gracious me!" exclaimed Tom Thumb. "Why weren't you more careful?"

"That's just it," replied the butcher. "Why wasn't I more careful?" And then he gave a sigh and went into his shop to wait on a customer.

"Let's make a call on Taffy," said Puss, Junior. "Somehow, I can't help liking him. I don't know whether it's on account of his name, or not. But Taffy sounds awfully nice to me."

"It tastes awfully good to me," laughed Tom Thumb. "You must have him mixed up with candy. That's the reason you like him, I guess."

"Come on and we'll soon find out," cried Puss, Junior. "I'm curious to see what 'Welsh Taffy' is like." So they both walked up the street, inquiring on the way where Taffy lived. If the house Taffy owned was any indication that Taffy was a nice sort of person, it certainly spoke well for him, for it was the prettiest and most homelike little place Puss had ever seen.

"I like him already," said Puss, as he knocked on the door.

A KIND VISIT

OF course, Taffy didn't come to the door. But a little Welshwoman did, and dropping a courtesy, she invited Puss and Tom Thumb to come in.

"How is Taffy?" Puss asked.

"His head is still painful," replied the little Welshwoman, "but for that he feels quite well, thank you," and she dropped another courtesy.

"May we see him?" asked Tom Thumb.

"Well, that I don't know," she replied, "but I will enquire. Won't you step into the sitting room?" So our two small visitors walked in and sat down. The little canary bird hopped about in her cage and the flowers in the green boxes in the bay-window nodded in the sunlight, as the big old clock in the far corner ticked away the minutes.

"Come up and see Taffy," suddenly cried the voice of the little Welshwoman.

I guess Puss had almost fallen asleep listening to the drowsy tick of the old clock and the low twitter of the canary. Everything was so quiet and home-like it reminded him of his old home when he had prowled about in the garret and discovered the story book, "Puss in Boots." Yes, Puss, Junior, felt a little bit homesick, for "no matter how humble, there's no place like home."

Taking Tom Thumb by the hand, he followed the Welshwoman up the stairs, where they found Taffy sitting propped up in bed, his head done up in great bandages. But, oh, what pleasant blue eyes he had! And his red beard, big and soft, flowed down over the counterpane, and his big strong hand lay so quietly on his lap that Puss forgot he was Puss in Boots, Junior, son of the Seneschal to my Lord of Carabas, and jumped right up on the bed and nestled up to Taffy, purring away just like an ordinary cat!

And what did Taffy do? Did he say "Scat! You'll get the counterpane all dirty with your red-topped boots!" No, he didn't. He just stroked Puss, Junior, with his big, kind hand, and the little Welshwoman picked up Tom Thumb and cuddled him in her bosom, saying in a low voice, "Dearie me, but it's nice to have friends come to see you when everybody in town is calling my Taffy a thief."

And then a tear fell from her eye on little Tom Thumb's hat; but he didn't care, for somehow he felt there must be some mistake, and that Taffy wasn't to blame. And Puss felt the same way, for he kept on purring and rubbing his nose against Taffy's big red hand.

THE RED BEARD

BY and by Taffy stopped stroking Puss, Junior, and said in a kindly voice:

"Well, my fine little cat, what can I do for you?"

Puss, Junior, didn't know just what to answer. In fact, as he hadn't come for anything, he couldn't think of anything to fit the question. But little Tom Thumb, however, called over from where he was sitting in the Welshwoman's lap, that they had come to call, and that they were strangers in town, traveling through on a journey of adventure.

"Did you hear what they say about me?" asked Taffy.

"Yes, we did," replied Puss, "but, somehow, I didn't believe it then; and I'm very sure I don't believe it now."

"Bless you for that," cried the little Welshwoman, "my Taffy is no thief. There has been a great mistake about it all."

"Yes, that there has," said Taffy, "but how can I prove it? Someone with a red beard stole the piece of beef from the butcherman, and then they said it was I. But I was never near his place, nor did I lay hands on meat or marrow-bone."

At that moment there came a loud knocking at the front door, and when the little Welshwoman opened it, whom should she find but the butcherman himself!

"See what I have brought to you," he said, holding up a false red beard. "I found this to-day behind a barrel in my shop. It's like your Taffy's beard." At this the little Welshwoman opened her eyes very wide and tried to speak, but she was so surprised she couldn't.

When the butcher went to say that perhaps the man who wore this beard was the one who had stolen his beef, the little Welshwoman began to cry softly, and the big butcher, who had a kind heart, said, "Don't cry, my good woman, I don't think now your Taffy stole the beef, and that's the reason I've come all the way up here to show you this beard. So you tell Taffy that I shall tell everybody in town that it wasn't he who stole my beef, but some thief who wore a red beard: and then, I'll show them what I found in my shop, and that will prove what I say. Everybody will be glad to know that Taffy isn't to blame."

As soon as the butcher had gone, she flew upstairs to tell Taffy the good news. And it almost made Taffy cry. If he hadn't been a man, he would have. But it was hard work not to, just the same. "My head feels better already," he said with a laugh that had a big catch in it.

"Take off the bandages, little woman. I'll come down to supper, and these two small friends of ours shall spend the night with us, for they have brought us good luck to-day, that they have."

ROBINSON CRUSOE

AFTER leaving Taffy, the Welshman, Puss, Junior, and little Tom Thumb walked along for many a mile until they came to the seashore. Right there in a sheltered cove lay a beautiful sailboat, on the stern of which was painted in gold letters:

"Take, oh take me for a sail--
I can weather any gale."

"Shall we accept the pretty boat's offer?" asked Puss, Junior.

For answer Tom Thumb jumped in and, so without another word, Puss hoisted the sail and steered for the big blue ocean. All day and all night they sailed away, and when they woke in the morning they were surprised to find the little boat fast aground on a sandy beach.

"How did we get here?" asked Puss, sleepily, for it was still early in the morning, and the sun had just begun to climb up to the sky, and the dew dripped from the tall meadow grass that grew close to the water's edge.

"Through no fault of ours," replied little Tom Thumb, with a laugh.

"Captain Puss, Junior, fell asleep at the helm, and the first mate, Tom Thumb, did likewise," he added, running up to the bow and looking over the land. "Why, it's an island," he called out. "I can see water on the other side."

"You don't say so," said Puss. "Well, let's land." So they jumped ashore and walked up the beach towards a clump of trees.

"Pretty nice sort of a place," said Tom Thumb. "Let's play Robinson Crusoe! I'll be your black man Friday. We can build a house under these trees, and as we have lots to eat on board ship, we can spend some time here without danger of starving."

And just then, all of a sudden, a voice began to sing:

"Poor old Robinson Crusoe!
Poor old Robinson Crusoe!
They made him a coat
Of an old Nanny Goat;
I wonder how they could do so!
With a ring-a-ting, tang,
And a ring-a-ting, tang,
Poor old Robinson Crusoe!"

"Who's that?" whispered Puss, Junior. But he needn't have asked the question, for just then a man dressed all in skins came toward them.

"Friends or enemies?" he asked.

"Friends!" cried Puss, Junior.

"Friends!" screamed Tom Thumb.

"Welcome, then, to my island. I am Robinson Crusoe!"

Puss and Tom were too amazed to answer for a few minutes. Then Puss, Junior, stretched out his right paw, saying: "I'm very pleased to meet you, Mr. Crusoe."

"And so am I," said little Tom Thumb, standing on tiptoe and reaching up his hand.

"Well, you're certainly as welcome as the flowers in May," said Robinson Crusoe. "Visitors are few and far between. Come with me to my house."

CRUSOE CASTLE

ROBINSON CRUSOE'S home was unlike anything Puss, Junior, had ever seen. Notwithstanding that he had visited many strange places and met many strange people, he was greatly surprised at Robinson Crusoe's style of dwelling. It wasn't exactly like a fort, and yet it was one. Tom Thumb said it reminded him of some of the strange castles he had seen while with Good King Arthur.

It stood against the side of a small hill, surrounded by a high stockade. There was no door to it, but while Puss was wondering how they were going to get in, Robinson Crusoe placed a ladder against the wall and climbed up, saying, "Follow me, my friends; this is the way we enter Crusoe Castle."

After reaching the top they descended by the same ladder, which, of course, was pulled up and lowered on the inside. A very nice looking tent met their eyes, back of which was a large cave hollowed out of the rocky hill.

"Here is where I live, my little friends," cried Robinson Crusoe. "This is my dog, Snoozer, and my two cats, Caromel and Caroline."

Puss had never been very fond of dogs, but Snoozer came forward in such a respectful way that Puss took a liking to him at once. I suppose there were so few visitors at Crusoe Castle that Snoozer would have welcomed even a strange cat.

With Caromel and Caroline, however, matters were different. Caromel from the first was jealous of Puss. You see, he had no fine, red-topped boots, nor a sword and feathered cap. Caroline, however, made up for him. She thought Puss, Junior, just about the handsomest cat she had ever seen. Poor Caroline! She had never been off of Crusoe Island.

For all that, however, I don't think if she had been all over the wide, wide world she would have met such a handsome cat as Puss, Junior. No, indeed! Puss, Junior, was the Prince of Cats; that goes without saying, though we have said it.

"And now that we have all been introduced, let us sit down and talk," cried Robinson Crusoe, "for I've hardly spoken to a soul for many years. I've forgotten how a voice sounds."

So they all began to talk and laugh and to tell all sorts of jokes and riddles until it began to grow dark. Then Robinson Crusoe jumped up and said, "Come and watch me get supper, for I am Lord and Chief Cook of Crusoe Castle."

FRIDAY

PUSS, JUNIOR, and Tom Thumb enjoyed their supper at Crusoe Castle better than any meal they ever had. "Even when I visited the Man in the Moon, the cheese wasn't as good as this," said Puss.

"Glad you like it," said Mr. Crusoe, "I made it myself from goat's milk. I have some fine goats, let me tell you. I made me this coat from an old Nanny goat. Do you wonder how Crusoe could do so?"

"Well, I suppose there are no tailors on Crusoe Island," said Tom Thumb.

"I've never met any," replied Mr. Crusoe with a laugh. "I've never met anybody so far except goats and kids, parrots and monkeys, ducks and drakes, snakes and lizards."

"Where did you get Snoozer and Caromel and Caroline?" asked Puss.

"They came off the ship with me when it was wrecked," said Mr. Crusoe. "That is, I brought them off the next day when I went out on the raft to the wreck. And they've been with me ever since."

"Oh, by the way," Puss, Junior, suddenly exclaimed. "Is Friday here?"

"Oh, yes," cried Tom Thumb, "where is Friday?"

Mr. Crusoe got up and walked over to a tall pole and looked over carefully the notches cut into the wood. "Let me see," he said. "To-day is Thursday. Yes, that's right; Friday will be here to-morrow."

"You've made a mistake, Mr. Crusoe," said Puss, with a laugh.

"Have I," he replied, looking over his wooden calendar carefully a second time.

"I don't mean the day," said Puss. "I mean your man Friday."

"Oh, you mean my black man Friday," said Mr. Crusoe. "Oh, I gave him a holiday. He'll be here to-morrow."

"I'm very anxious to see him," said Tom Thumb.

"He'll be surprised when he sees you, too," said Mr. Crusoe, with a grin. "He's never seen a white man but me."

By this time it was quite dark, so Mr. Crusoe lighted some very nice home-made candles and stuck them here and there in the cave. They gave a very soft light. The waves on the beach murmured gently, and pretty soon Snoozer was snoring and Caromel and Caroline were fast asleep on an old sack in a corner.

"Let us turn in," said Mr. Crusoe, showing Puss and Tom a very comfortable hammock. In a short time everybody was sound asleep and snoring away in Crusoe Cave.

SUPPOSING