THE next morning Major, the horse, was eagerly eating his breakfast of
nice fresh oats. He was an easy-tempered fellow, but this morning he
was greatly annoyed, and with good reason; he was very hungry and must
share his breakfast with several rats that were bold enough to venture
into his manger and steal his oats from before his very eyes.
“I do wish my friend the barn-cat would not take the opportunity to go
out while I am eating,” said Major to himself. “I knew how it would
be when she told me she must go and see Mrs. Polly about this plan of
bringing that child Nancy here. ‘When the cat’s away the mice will
play;’ and what’s more, the rats too. Here, old Graywhisker, you come
any nearer and I’ll bite off your tail!”
“I’d like to see you do it,” snarled the old rat; and as he spoke he
showed his long yellow teeth with one of them broken off, which gave
him a very disagreeable expression. “I’d like to see you stop us from
eating a few of your oats. You’re too fat already; I heard Mr. Winton
tell Michael so the other day.”
“I should be loath to tell you what I’ve heard him say about you,”
answered Major angrily; “you wouldn’t sleep very well nights if I did.”
The old rat forgot his usual caution, and came nearer to Major’s face
than ever before; and Major, his patience gone, gave a sudden snort
and pushed them all out of the manger with his nose. Then when he was
left alone he went on eating his breakfast. After that he found himself
becoming very sleepy, and shutting his eyes he fell into a doze. As he
slept the old rat stole quietly out of his hole and looked cautiously
about.
“Come,” he said to the others, “come out on the barn floor, for I have
something of importance to say to you, and this is a good time, as
Major is asleep, and the barn-cat off. Here, you Silvertail, you keep a
sharp lookout in every direction, and tell me if you see the barn-cat
coming.”
The young rat addressed, quickly climbed on the window-sill, whence he
could command a fine view of the entrances to the barn.
“Do you see anything of the barn-cat?” asked the old rat.
“Yes, I see her right in front of the dining-room window; and by the
way she swishes her tail I know she’s talking pretty fast.”
“Well, let her swish,” answered the old rat; “she’ll find there are
some people in the world as smart as she is.”
The old rat, Graywhisker, seated himself, and the other rats came
flocking out of their holes and placed themselves in a circle about
him. Some of them brought their young families, as they couldn’t trust
them alone.
“I don’t see any of our friends the mice,” said Graywhisker, looking
about with his sharp old eyes. “Some of you young fellows run over to
Mrs. Silverskin, and tell her I want to see her at once; and be quick
about it too.”
Two young rats started off, and began to climb to the hay-mow, playing
tag on the way.
“Here, none of your fooling!” called out the old rat sharply, as one of
them gave a loud squeak.
This squeak awoke Major from his nap, and hearing voices his curiosity
was aroused. “I guess I’ll keep my ears open, and perhaps I shall hear
something,” he said to himself; “you can’t trust these rats out of
your sight.”
So Major made believe asleep, and even gave a snore occasionally to
mislead the rats; and he did completely mystify them.
Soon the two young rats returned, scampering headlong down from the
mow, and followed more leisurely by Mrs. Silverskin, who had a very
timid, gentle air, and who looked very small and refined by the side of
the great clumsy rats with their bold countenances.
“Now sit still and listen with all your ears,” began old Graywhisker,
“for I’ve something of importance to say, and our time is short, as
that arch fiend, the barn-cat, may return at any moment. To cut a long
matter short, the barn-cat has introduced another cat here. To be
sure, she’s half blind, and a half-grown kitten, but still she’s to be
dreaded. Then there’s been a sparrow loafing around here lately, and
they’re laying a plot this very minute to get a good-for-nothing girl
here, but we’ll put a stop to that. I hid under the piazza yesterday
and heard the whole story,--how this girl had fed the lazy sparrow and
the half-blind kitten (it’s good enough for her, and I wish she was
blind of both eyes), and how they must think of some way to get this
poor child among these good people. They’re talking it over now, and
I’ve set Sharpears to watch and tell me what they’ve said. The barn-cat
said that if they could arrange matters so that Posy could hear her
story, she would bring it all about. Posy, indeed! I hate that child!
She makes a dreadful fuss over all the other animals, but I heard her
say the other day to the barn-cat, ‘You mustn’t catch the pretty little
birdies, kitty, but you can catch just as many of the great ugly rats
as you’ve a mind to.’ I paid her off, though; I stole her piece of cake
that she laid down on the door-step when she went into the house, and
she felt awfully about it. It was real fun to see how disappointed she
was when she came back and found it gone.”
Here Mrs. Silverskin, who had sat meekly listening, spoke in a soft
little voice,--
“I don’t believe Posy could see any animal suffer. I saw her sprinkle
some crumbs down in front of a hole one day, and say, ‘These are for
the little mice to eat.’”
“Oh, yes! you take her part, do you?” said old Graywhisker, fiercely
glaring at the poor little mouse. “If that is your opinion, you just
clear out of my barn. I want you to understand that I won’t have any
hypocrites around these premises.”
“You can’t call me a hypocrite,” said the little mouse meekly; “I
only said that Posy was a kind-hearted child. I am sure I dislike
the barn-cat as much as you do, and it gives me great uneasiness to
think there’s another of that species on the premises if she is half
blind. I am afraid our children will get careless, thinking she can’t
see them, and some day venture too near. I am sure I shall never have
another easy moment;” and Mrs. Silverskin looked more anxious than ever.
“Here comes Sharpears creeping along this way,” called out Silvertail
from the window.
The whole company looked anxiously in the direction of their private
entrance, and Sharpears soon appeared at the opening.
“Well,” said old Graywhisker impatiently, “what did you hear?”
“In the first place,” began Sharpears, “Major has been complaining that
we eat too many of his oats. He says that when the barn-cat’s away we
bother him so that he can’t take any comfort in his eating.”
“He eats too much,” said Graywhisker; “that’s what’s the matter with
him. Just hear him snore! He’ll go off in a fit of apoplexy one of
these days! I wish he would!”
“The barn-cat said she did her best; that she knew the rats and mice
did take advantage of her absence, but that she was going to train the
gray kitten to watch while she was away.”
“We’ll fix that gray kitten,” snarled the old rat, bringing his long
yellow teeth together in a very unpleasant manner.
“After that they had a long talk about how they could bring it about to
get that child Nancy here that had fed the sparrow and the gray kitten.
Feeding the kitten, indeed! as if there were not cats enough around
already! When I came away they were talking about having the sparrow
entice her here some way or other.”
“Why didn’t you stay and hear it out?” said the old rat savagely. “I
thought you had more sense.”
“Well, all at once that disagreeable Polly (she’s always minding
everybody’s business but her own) said, ‘I do believe there’s a rat
under that piazza.’ I didn’t wait to hear any more, I can tell you, but
slunk off just as the barn-cat jumped down to find out where the noise
came from.”
“Here comes the barn-cat!” called out Silvertail from the window; and
instantly the whole company darted to their holes, as the barn-cat
appeared at the head of the stairs.
The barn-cat put her nose up in the air and sniffed. “Those rats and
mice have been about, sure as you live!” she said. “I must teach the
gray kitten to keep a sharp lookout while I’m away. Hallo!” she called
to Major, “how are you getting on?”
“All right,” answered Major; “I’ve important news for you. I made
believe asleep just now, and heard a thing or two. The rats know
exactly what you’re plotting, for they set a spy to listen to your
conversation this morning. They know you’re going to try to get that
girl here, and they’re going to stop it if they can, because she fed
the little gray kitten.”
“I’d like to see ’em do it,” said the barn-cat.
“They can annoy you, though, in a great many ways,” said Major; “and,
to tell the truth, I’m afraid they’re going to plot against the gray
kitten. They all seemed full of spite against her.”
“I’d like to see ’em touch a hair of her head!” exclaimed the barn-cat
ferociously.
“Here comes that dear child, Posy, with your breakfast,” said Major, as
Posy appeared, carrying a plate and followed by Tom with a saucer of
milk.
“Here, kitty,” called Posy; “I’ve brought you some nice milk and some
critters all cut up fine. Are they _critters_ or fritters?” she asked,
turning to Tom.
“_Fritters_, of course,” answered Tom. “You do manage to get things
twisted about, Posy. Papa says you are a real Mrs. Malaprop.”
“Kitty,” said Posy, putting her hand in her pocket and drawing out a
little package, “I have brought you the beautifulest present you ever
had in all your life;” and Posy began to undo the paper.
[Illustration: Major and Graywhisker.]