The next morning Aunt Tabby again offered to show Jazbury the
mouse-hole in the cupboard.
Jazbury looked very sulky. He was ashamed to try to beg off again,
particularly after what Aunt Tabby had done for him the day before, but
it seemed hard to have to give up another morning of play.
He followed Aunt Tabby into the kitchen. The cook had gone to market
and the door of the cupboard was ajar. Aunt Tabby pushed it open and
led the way into the darkness where the pots and pans were stored.
"Here's the hole, Jazbury," she told him in a low voice. "I have a
feeling the mouse is out, and if you only keep perfectly quiet I feel
sure it will try to get back into the hole again. That will be your
chance, and I shall be very much disappointed if you do not catch your
first mouse this morning."
"I don't feel as if I could catch anything today," said Jazbury sulkily.
"Now, Jazbury, don't go about it that way. If you don't catch it, it
will be your own fault, and I shall feel very much provoked with you."
Then Aunt Tabby went away and left him there. She did not go very far,
however. She was so anxious to have him get the mouse that she lingered
close by where she could hear everything that went on in the
cupboard--though this the kitten did not know.
Jazbury crouched down in the shadow of the kettle as his aunt bade him,
and kept perfectly quiet with his eyes fixed on the hole. Not even a
whisker stirred. He _did_ wish he could catch that mouse, if only to
show Aunt Tabby what he could do if he chose. How pleased and surprised
she and his mother would be if he were really to get one. Outside the
kitchen was very still. The clock tick-tocked and the kettle simmered
on the stove.
Suddenly Jazbury heard a little scratching, scraping sound back of one
of the pots. It was so very little and faint that only a cat's ears
could have heard it. Jazbury's eyes grew round, and his muscles
stiffened ready for a leap.
Suddenly out from behind the pot whined a winged grasshopper. It flew
so close to Jazbury it almost brushed his nose.
Forgetting all about the mouse, Jazbury made a leap for it. He knocked
against a tin pan that clattered down with a tremendous din. At the
same moment a little grey shape flitted out from behind him like a tiny
shadow, slipped across the floor and disappeared down the mouse-hole.
It was the mouse, and Jazbury had lost it.
[Illustration:
_He knocked against a tin pan that clattered
down with a tremendous din_
]
Almost at the same moment Jazbury received a sharp box on the ear that
almost upset him.
"You _bad_ boy!" cried his aunt. "I'm just all out of patience with
you. Even when a mouse runs right by under your nose you can't catch
it."
Jazbury began to mew. "Well, you don't have to box my ears, anyway. I
couldn't help it."
"Yes, you could. That's what provokes me so. Fluffy's not half as quick
and active as you, and look at the way he catches mice. I'm ashamed of
you."
* * * * *
Mother Bunch's round furry face appeared at the door looking in at
them. "What's the matter? Has Jazbury been doing anything?"
"No, he _hasn't_ been doing it, that's the matter," and Aunt Tabby
poured out the whole story, while Jazbury stood by looking both sullen
and ashamed.
"I don't care; I couldn't help it," he said.
"Don't say 'don't care' to me," said Mother Bunch. "It isn't
respectful--not to me, nor to your aunt either. The mouse has gone, I
suppose, so there's no use in your staying here. You may go out on the
kitchen steps. But you mustn't play around or go over to see Fluffy.
That is your punishment for being so careless, and disrespectful, too."
V
Jazbury sat out on the kitchen steps and sulked. He did not think Aunt
Tabby had any right to box his ears. And instead of being sorry for him
his mother had scolded him. It wasn't fair. He was always getting
scolded and punished. Well, he'd just run away. That's what he'd do.
He'd run away and never come back. Then they'd be sorry. Maybe they'd
cry. He just wished they would. He'd be glad if they cried.
Suddenly Fluffy's little furry white face peered over the fence.
"Hello, Jazbury."