While the caravaners were encamped in the quarry, Sandy had gone
shopping to the market town. It was an old-fashioned town with funny
crooked streets and little old squares hidden away round corners;
there were archways opening under houses, leading from square to
square. Sandy made several small purchases at the grocer’s and at
the saddler’s. But his most important piece of shopping was to buy
something pretty to make a costume for Tuppenny, who was worthy of
considerable outlay by way of dressing up. His remarkable hair, and
the rarity of guinea-pigs, combined to make him an acquisition to the
circus company. “Choose something bright and fanciful; I will shape it
and sew it. And pray remember hairpins!” said the Dormouse Xarifa, who
was clever with her needle. So Sandy in the course of his shopping paid
a visit to the milliner’s.
The Misses Matilda and Louisa Pussycat kept shop in a tiny steep
three-storied house, with an overhanging upper floor. Each floor came
forward over the story below; it made the shop rather dark for matching
ribbons.
In the attic Matilda Pussycat, leaning out of the window, could talk
to Tabby Whitefoot across the way, at the staircase window of the post
office opposite. The street door opened down a step into the house. On
the right-hand side of the passage was a tiny parlour, containing a
polished mahogany table and three chairs with horse-hair seats. On a
side table were the tea tray and the best tea service, and some shells
and coral under a bell glass. By the fireplace were two wicker chairs
with pink cushions. Some black silhouette portraits of cat ancestors
hung on the wall; and on the mantelpiece stood a pot snuffbox figure,
shaped like an owl. Its head took off, and the box body contained pins
and buttons; not snuff. The muslin curtains were spotlessly white.
On the other side of the passage was the milliner’s shop, and a dark
little kitchen behind it. The Misses Pussycats lived principally in
the kitchen. It was well supplied with the usual assortment of pots
and pans, shelves, milk jugs, crooks for hanging things, a deal table,
stools, and a corner cupboard. The only unusual feature in the kitchen
was a small window under the plate rail. This window did not look out
of doors like other windows; it looked into the shop. If a customer
came in, Miss Louisa Pussycat applied her eye to the window, to see who
it was. Once when she looked through, she saw a duck who had come into
the shop without quacking.
Sandy came in from the street and lifted the latch of the shop door;
it had a tinkling bell—“Bow, wow! Shop there! Bow wow!” barked
Sandy, rapping on the counter. Miss Louisa Pussycat’s eye appeared
at the little window. She put on a clean apron and came in behind
the counter. “Good morning, Mr. Alexander! I hope I see you well?
What can I have the pleasure of showing you?” “First rate, Miss
Louisa! And how’s yourself and Miss Matilda this cold weather?” “I
am very well, I thank you, Mr. Sandy; but I regret to say that my
sister, Miss Matilda Pussycat has neuralgia. A fishbone, Mr. Sandy, a
fishbone embedded between her wisdom teeth; it has caused a gumboil or
abscess, accompanied by swelling. She has eaten nothing but slops for
a fortnight.” “That would disagree with me,” said Sandy. “Indeed, my
poor sister Matilda is becoming as ‘thin as a cat’s lug,’ as the saying
is. But the spring fashions are a great divertissement and alleviation,
Mr. Sandy. See here what a sweet thing in collars, Mr. Sandy; and these
neckties and tabby muslins—quite the latest from Catchester. Is it for
yourself or for a lady, Mr. Alexander?” “Well, it’s for a guinea-pig,
to tell you the truth, Miss Louisa.” “A guinea-pig! is that a species
of wild boar, Mr. Sandy? Does it bite?” “No, no! A most genteel and
timid little animal, Miss Louisa. He is going to play in our circus,
and we want to dress him up; something bright coloured and tasty—” “I
feel confident that we can supply every requisite article of apparel.
[Illustration]
What is his complexion? And what character will he impersonate?”
inquired Miss Louisa Pussycat; she liked long words. “e is lemon
and white. We thought of calling him the Sultan of Zanzibar.
How about a bandana pocket handkerchief? Can you show me any?”
“Excellent. We have a choice selection. Scarlet and gold would
become him admirably. And permit me to suggest a yellow sash and a
green turban; quite the height of fashion,” said Miss Louisa Pussycat,
opening cardboard boxes and unwrapping packages. “I don’t think a
turban would stick on, he has such a lot of hair. We were going to
roll it up on the top of his head, with a hatpin stuck through it. By
the bye, that reminds me, I am forgetting hairpins—hairpins with a
bend in them, Miss Louisa; he has difficulty in doing up his hair.”
“Dear me, how remarkable! Cannot he have it shingled? But it would
be bad for trade. You would be surprised how the sale of hairpins has
diminished; we are seldom asked for them.” Miss Louisa clattered open
numbers of little drawers behind the counter in search of hairpins.
Finally she called through the window into the kitchen—“Sister!
Sister Matilda! Where are the hairpins?” “Miaw! miaw! oh, bother!”
moaned Miss Matilda, “I put them away in the attic; they are never
wanted.” She was heard climbing the staircase.
Sandy chose a scarlet, gold and chocolate coloured pocket handkerchief,
and a green sash ribbon. “Allow me to recommend the purchase of this
hatpin with a glass knob; it will shimmer in the sunshine like a
diamond,” said Miss Louisa, who was greatly interested in the Sultan’s
costume.
Miss Matilda came downstairs with a packet of hairpins. “Here! take
them. Mi-i-a-ow! Oh, my poor mouth!” Her face was swelled like a
cabbage, and she had a strip of red flannel pinned round her head. “Let
me look at it; I have had experience of bones sticking fast,” said
Sandy. “If I were sure you would not scratch me, I believe I could get
it out.” “Indeed, _I_ should be thankful; she mews all night,” said
Miss Louisa Pussycat. “I’ll scratch both of you if you touch me,” said
Matilda. “Matilda, this is folly. Open your mouth.” “Louisa, I won’t,”
replied Matilda. “Oh, all right; please yourself,” said Sandy. “Will
you make out my bill, Miss Louisa.” “Let me see—half a yard of ribbon
at 9 peppercorns a yard, 4½. One crystal hatpin, 7 peppercorns; one
pocket handkerchief, 11 peppercorns; that makes 22½ peppercorns.”
“Miaw! You have forgotten to charge for the hairpins, Louisa.”
“Hairpins, 1½ peppercorns. That gets rid of the half. Small change
is troublesome, is it not, Mr. Alexander? Twenty-four peppercorns
exactly, thank you.”
“By the bye, what is the smallest size you stock in fancy slippers,
Miss Louisa?” “Kitten quarter two’s, Mr. Sandy,” said Miss Louisa,
reaching up towards the top shelf. “I’m afraid that would be too large;
no, don’t trouble please to get them down; I know they would be too
large, Miss Louisa.”
At this point Miss Matilda again mewed dismally, “Miaw! mi-a-aw! Oh, my
poor face.” “I am out of patience with that wearisome fishbone. Sister,
why will you not allow our obliging customer to examine it?” “What do
you want me to do?” asked Matilda crossly. “Put on these wash-leather
gloves so that you cannot scratch; sit back in this chair—so—now
open your mouth.” Matilda opened it wide with the intention of spitting
at them. Instantly Miss Louisa wedged a spoon between her jaws. “Quick,
Mr. Sandy! Get the sugar tongs off the tea tray in the parlour. That’s
it! Quick, before she scratches us! She is kicking her slippers off
to scratch!” After a brief struggle Sandy held up the fishbone in the
sugar tongs, while Matilda Pussycat made loud howls. “Indeed, Mr.
Sandy, the firm is under a great obligation to you; she had not trimmed
one hat during the last fortnight; besides disturbing my rest. Pray do
us the favour to accept this short length of blue ribbon, which I will
enclose in your parcel as a present from us both.” “Speak for yourself,
Sister, I hate dogs!” said Matilda Pussycat, spitting and sputtering.
“Good morning, Mr. Alexander.” “Good morning, Misses Pussycats.” And
so Sandy was bowed out at the front door with his parcel. It was
quite three days before the swelling disappeared; and when the Misses
Pussycats had friends to tea next Saturday, the sugar tongs were
discovered to be somewhat bent.
Sandy’s purchases were much approved by the rest of the circus company;
especially the hatpin.
[Illustration]