CHAPTER XX.
“Come to the barn, the three of yees, till ye see the big rat the barn-cat is after catching,” said Michael to the children the next morning; and off they started, in such a hurry that poor little Posy tripped over a stone and scraped the skin off her chubby little hands.
“Be a brave girl and don’t cry,” said Tom encouragingly, looking at Posy’s face, that was distorted from the effort she made to keep from crying.
“No,” said Posy, swallowing very hard and winking back the tears; “I don’t cry at trifles, do I, Tom? Some girls would cry, wouldn’t they, Tom? The tears might come into my eyes just a little bit, you know, but I wouldn’t cry;” and two great tears rolled down Posy’s cheeks as she spoke.
Nancy and Tom wiped the little hands very tenderly, and Tom’s praise of her fortitude made the smarting much easier to bear; and in a few minutes the three children were on their way to the barn again.
On the barn-floor lay a large rat, gray around the nose from age, and nearly as large as the barn-cat herself, who sat near by.
“He’s an old fellow,” said Michael; “ye can see that by the gray beard of him.”
“Look at his long yellow teeth,” said Tom, stooping to examine the rat more closely, “and one of them is broken off. I guess ’twas done in a fight, don’t you, Michael?”
“It’s as like as not,” answered Michael.
“How pleased the cats seem to be!” said Posy, looking from the barn-cat, who watched the dead rat with so much satisfaction, to the gray kitten, who looked on from behind her, and the house-cat, who appeared at the door and looked in with great interest. The tiger-kittens came too, and were so curious they couldn’t see all they wanted to without going up to the rat and smelling around him, till their mother gave a little “meaw” and drove them back. Then the house-kittens came too, and peeped around the corner.
“I’m glad he’s out of the way, even if I didn’t catch him myself,” said the house-cat.
The barn-cat was of too generous a disposition to boast of her victory. “It doesn’t make any difference who caught him, now that he is caught. What I want to see next is, these boards ripped up and the old fellow’s nest examined; for I am certain my collar and Posy’s necklace will be found there.”
“I wonder they don’t think of it,” said the house-cat; “but human beings are so stupid I declare I’ve no patience with them.”
“The cats mew just as if they were talking it over,” said Tom.
“I shouldn’t wonder if they were,” said Posy; “I wish we knew what they were saying.”
“I wish you did,” said the house-cat, “but that would be expecting too much of you.”
The sparrow, too, had heard the news, and perched on the window to get a look at the notorious Graywhisker who had caused so much mischief.
“I should have been in a pretty fix if that old fellow had come home and found me in his house that time,” he said to himself; “one thing is certain, I shouldn’t be sitting here now if he had. Hallo, my dear! you came to get a sight of the old villain, did you?” he said to the bright-eyed sparrow who lit beside him.
“I do believe those sparrows have come to see the rat too,” said Nancy.
Major, also, had turned around in his box-stall and faced the little group assembled around the dead rat, and appeared to take great interest in the event.
“Now, the only thing left to do is to tear up those boards and bring the old fellow’s nest to light,” neighed Major.
“I guess Major is saying he’s glad the old rat won’t be able to steal any more of his oats, don’t you, Tom?” said Posy, going up to the gentle horse and stroking his soft nose.
“It’s more likely he’s after asking yees for the apples ye have in the hands of yees,” answered Michael.
Major gave him as scornful a look as his mild eyes were capable of giving, and then rubbed his nose affectionately against the little hand that stroked him, in order to show his appreciation of the sympathy she had with his feelings.
“Papa,” cried Tom and Posy together, as Mr. Winton came out of the house, “do come and see this awful big rat the barn-cat caught last night.”
“He was an old stager, and no mistake,” said Papa, looking at him. “I want you, Michael, to take up these boards and destroy all the old nests. I don’t doubt there are a good many of them.”
The barn-cat was so delighted that she completely forgot her dignity, and catching sight of the tiger-kittens and house-kittens at play in the yard, raced up to them and chased them around till they thought she had suddenly lost her wits.
“Well, I declare,” said the house-cat, who was too well bred to forget her dignity in such a manner, “I thought you had a fit.”
“It did me good,” said the barn-cat; “I had to do something or I should have exploded with joy.”
That afternoon, Michael, armed with a crowbar and hammer, went out to the barn, followed by the children, who seated themselves comfortably on the oat-box, where they could obtain a good view of Michael as he tore up the boards of the floor.
Placing the crowbar under one of the planks, he gradually pried it up and laid it on one side. The children peeped curiously in, but to their great disappointment nothing was to be seen.
“It’s here where they’ve been,” said Michael; “I see the tracks of ’em.”
Then another plank was pried up and laid aside, and Michael looked down and carefully examined the ground. “It’s here where the old villain lived, I’ll be bound,” he exclaimed.
Down jumped the children from the oat-box and stood beside Michael.
“There’s his nest,” cried Tom excitedly,—“that bunch of rags and twine in the corner.”
“It’s right ye are,” replied Michael.
“What’s that yellow thing there under that rag?” asked Tom.
Michael stooped and picked up the object that had attracted Tom’s attention.
“My amber necklace,” shrieked Posy joyfully. “Oh, I’m so glad! Now they won’t say you took it any more, Nancy;” and snatching the necklace from Michael’s hand, she darted out of the barn, calling “Mamma” so loudly that Mrs. Winton was at the door almost as soon as Posy was.
“My amber necklace,” cried Posy, waving it frantically over her head. “It was in the old rat’s nest. Come and see where he lived.”
Mrs. Winton followed Posy to the barn, and looked into what had once been Graywhisker’s home.
“It was right there, under that old rag,” cried Tom; “I saw it first.”
“What is that little thing shining there?” asked Mrs. Winton, pointing to a bright spot.
Michael picked it up and handed it to her.
“Why, it must be the padlock to the barn-cat’s collar!” exclaimed Mrs. Winton. “What a thief the old fellow was! I know now where the sugar and raisins must have gone. Tell Hannah to come here a minute, Tom.”
Tom was off like a shot and soon returned, bringing Hannah, who looked greatly astonished at the unusual message.
“Hannah,” said Mrs. Winton, holding up the amber necklace, “Posy’s necklace has been found in this old rat-hole, and also what is left of the barn-cat’s collar. You see your suspicions were unfounded. The thief who has caused so much mischief is now dead, and I think you will find that your stores in the loft will not disappear as fast as they used to.”
Hannah was silent, and her face flushed.
“You do believe, now, that Nancy isn’t a thief, don’t you, Hannah?” said Posy earnestly.
“Yes,” said Hannah slowly, for it cost her a great effort to acknowledge she had made a mistake; “I see I was mistaken, and I am sorry. I can’t say no more than that, as I know.”
“Hannah,” said Posy, with her sweetest smile, “I don’t think you are a mean girl, and I will help you cook whenever you want me to.”
“Then I’m all right,” answered Hannah cheerfully.
It would be hard to tell how happy Nancy was at the favorable turn affairs had taken; and if such a thing were possible, the animals, who had been the means of bringing it to pass, were even happier than she was. Mrs. Polly was so excited that for several days she talked the family almost to death, and the canary sang till it seemed as if his little throat would burst.
The sparrow settled down into quite a model husband and father, and very seldom relapsed into his old habits. He and the little bright-eyed sparrow continued to be very fond of each other, and brought up many broods of young sparrows,—some of them lively young fellows like their father and as fond of keeping late hours as he used to be, and others as bright-eyed and domestic as the bright-eyed sparrow herself.
The barn-cat and the house-cat continued to disagree in their ideas of education, but their kittens associated together with great amiability and did not share the jealousies of their mothers.
Little Nancy never left the kind friends who had befriended her, and was so devoted to Posy and made her so happy that a new nurse never appeared, and the children became more attached to her every day, if such a thing were possible.
The Sparrow’s House.
Mrs. Wesselhoeft’s Stories.
“YOU DEAR OLD FROWZLE,” CRIED MARGETTA, SITTING UP IN BED, “HOW GLAD I AM TO SEE YOU!”
Frowzle the Runaway.
A fable for Children. By Lily F. Wesselhoeft, author of “Sparrow, the Tramp,” “Flipwing, the Spy,” etc. With illustrations by Jessie McDermott. Square 12mo. Cloth. Price, $1.25.
Sold by all booksellers. Mailed, post-paid, on receipt of price, by the publishers,
LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY, Boston.
OLD ROUGH THE MISER.
——◆——
By Lily F. Wesselhoeft, author of “Sparrow the Tramp,” “Flipwing the Spy,” “The Winds, the Woods, and the Wanderer.” With twenty-one illustrations by J. F. Goodridge. Square 16mo, cloth, $1.25.
OLD ROUGH THE MISER.
Mrs. Wesselhoeft’s “Fable Stories” are proving themselves more and more acceptable to the children. “Old Rough” is a decided acquisition to the series.
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MRS. WESSELHOEFT’S STORIES.
THE WINDS, THE WOODS, AND THE
WANDERER.
A Fable for Children. By Lily F. Wesselhoeft, author of “Sparrow, the Tramp,” and “Flipwing, the Spy.” With illustrations. 16mo, cloth. Price, $1.25.
LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY, Boston.
FLIPWING, THE SPY.
A Story for Children.
By LILY F. WESSELHOEFT,
Author of “Sparrow, the Tramp,” “The Winds, the Woods,
and the Wanderer,” etc.
The story represents the action of certain animals, the characters of depicted in accordance with their natures and the exigencies of the story. The object is to cultivate the love of animal nature, which most children feel, and especially for such creatures as bats, toads and others, which children are often improperly taught to regard with disgust. The human characters introduced talk and act naturally, and this book will be found very entertaining to young people.
16mo. Cloth. Price, $1.25.
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THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE.
By Evelyn Raymond. With 21 Illustrations by Frank T. Merrill. Small 4to, cloth. Price, $1.50.
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JOLLY GOOD STORIES.
BY
MARY P. WELLS SMITH.
Jolly Good Times To-Day. With illustrations by Jessie McDermott. 16mo. Cloth. Price, $1.25.
A sensible book, and it is sensible because it is merry and natural.—New York Times.
A complete description of the happy every-day life of American children of the present day.—Christian Register.
Natural, every-day children.—Churchman.
One of the jolliest, most natural, and readable books we have read for many a day.—Boston Times.
A most charming book for children, whose scene is laid in our very midst, is Mrs. Mary P. Wells Smith’s “Jolly Good Times To-Day.” The writer, Mrs. Fayette Smith, of Avondale, has been very successful in her books for young people but this is the first instance where she has drawn upon her own beautiful neighborhood for materials. Apart from the interest felt in a description of people in our midst, the book is charming in its fresh, simple presentation of child-life. Mrs. Smith has the power of entering directly into the personality of her characters, and, as a result, they are real people. The book is full of local references that will interest Cincinnatians, and this fact, with its excellence as a story, should make it very popular with our young folk.—Cincinnati Tribune.
The book is rightly named, and is the fifth in a series of volumes bearing similar title. It is brimming from cover to cover with healthy, hearty, child’s companionship and wholesomely jolly times. It is the story of children whose lives are put in pleasant places, where the modern possessions of our day contribute freely to the general happiness; where the comradeship of elders gives no undue sense of parental authority, but, rather, a friendly sharing of mutual guiding; where liberal instincts and thoughtful living create an atmosphere of growth and of personal privilege, wherein young lives may unconsciously expand toward a noble future.—Unity.
“Jolly Good Times To-Day,” by Mary P. Wells Smith, is a very pretty and natural story of child-life. The author evidently understands children, and sympathizes with them in their joys and griefs. She knows, too, how to entertain them in a bright, sensible way.—Christian Intelligencer.
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VOYAGE OF THE LIBERDADE.
BY CAPTAIN JOSHUA SLOCUM.
Illustrated. 4to, Cloth. Price, $1.00.
The “Voyage of the Liberdade” reads like a romance, but is, nevertheless, the faithful account of a marvellous experience in the career of that indomitable Yankee tar—Capt. Joshua Slocum. How the wonderful little boat, containing the author and his family, made a journey of 5,000 miles in the face of perils calculated to terrify many of the hardiest is told without any attempt at rhetorical garnish, yet with a clearness that gives it a permanent literary value.
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Transcriber’s Notes:
On page 201, diging has been changed to digging.
On page 209, look-out has been changed to lookout.
On page 225, puting has been changed to putting.
The name of the old rat was typeset as Gray Whisker, Gray-whisker and Graywhisker; these names have been regularized to Graywhisker across this ebook.
All other spelling, hyphenation and dialect have been retained as typeset.