HOW SPOT FOUND A HOME
Once there was a cat. She was a black and white and yellow cat and the boys on the street called her Spot. For she was a poor cat with no home but the street. When she wanted to sleep, she had to hunt for a dark empty cellar. When she wanted to eat, she had to hunt for a garbage can. So poor Spot was very thin and very unhappy. And much of the time she prowled and yowled and howled.
Now one day Spot was prowling along the fence in the alley. She wanted to find a home. She was saying to herself:
“Meow, meow!
I’ve no place to eat,
I’ve no place to sleep,
I’ve only the street!
Meow, meow, meow!”
Then suddenly she smelled something. Sniff! went her pink little nose. Spot knew it was smoke she smelled. The smoke came out of the chimney of a house. “Where there is smoke there is fire,” thought Spot, “and where there is fire, it is warm to lie.” So she jumped down from the fence and on her little padded feet ran softly to the door. There she saw an empty milk bottle. “Where there are milk bottles, there is milk,” thought Spot, “and where there is milk, it is good to drink.” So she slipped in through the door.
Inside was a warm, warm kitchen. Spot trotted softly to the front of the stove and there she curled up. She was very happy, so she closed her eyes and began to sing:
“Purrrr, purrrr,
Curling up warm
To a ball of fur,
I close my eyes
And purr and purr.
Purrrr, purrrr,
Purrrr, purrrr.”
Bang! went the kitchen door. Spot opened one sleepy eye. In front of her stood a cross, cross woman. The cross, cross woman scowled. She picked up poor Spot and threw her out of the door, screaming:
“Scat, scat!
You old street cat!
Scat, scat!
And never come back!”
With a bound Spot jumped back to the fence.
“Meow, meow!
I’ve no place to eat,
I’ve no place to sleep,
I’ve only the street.
Meow, meow, meow!”
So she trotted along the fence. In a little while sniff! went her little pink nose again. She smelled more smoke. She stopped by a house with two chimneys. The smoke came out of both chimneys! “Where there are two fires there must be room for me,” thought Spot. She jumped off the fence and pattered to the door. By the door there were two empty milk bottles. “Where there is so much milk there will be some for me,” thought Spot. But the door was shut tight. Spot ran to the window. It was open! In skipped Spot. There was another warm, warm kitchen and there was another stove. Spot trotted softly to the stove and curled up happy and warm. She closed her eyes and softly sang:
“Purrrr, purrrr,
Curling up warm
To a ball of fur,
I close my eyes
And purr and purr.
Purrrr, purrrr,
Purrrr, purrrr.”
“Ssssspt!” hissed something close by. Spot leapt to her feet. “Ssssspt!” she answered back. For there in front of her stood an enormous black cat. His back was humped, his hair stood on end, his eyes gleamed and his teeth showed white.
“Ssssspt! leave my rug!
Ssssspt! leave my fire!
Ssssspt! leave my milk!
Ssssspt! leave my home!”
Spot gave one great jump out of the window and another great jump to the top of the fence. For Spot was little and thin and the great black cat was strong and big. And he didn’t want Spot in his home.
Poor Spot trotted along the fence, thinking:
“Meow, meow,
I’ve no place to eat,
I’ve no place to sleep,
I’ve only the street,
Meow, meow, meow.”
In a little while she smelled smoke again. Sniff! went her little pink nose. This time she stopped by a house with three chimneys. The smoke came out of all the chimneys! “Where there are three fires there must be room for me,” thought Spot. So she jumped off the fence and pattered to the door. By the door were three empty milk bottles! “Where there is so much milk there must be children,” thought Spot and then she began to feel happy. But the door was shut tight. She trotted to the window. The window was shut tight too! Then she saw some stairs. Up the stairs she trotted. There she found another door and in she slipped. She heard a very pleasant sound.
“I crickle, I crackle,
I flicker, I flare,
I jump from nothing right into the air.”
There on the hearth burned an open fire with a warm, warm rug in front of it. On the rug was a little table and on the table were two little mugs of milk. Spot curled up on the rug under the table and began to sing:
“Purrrr, purrrr,
Curling up warm
To a ball of fur,
I close my eyes,
And purr and purr.
Purrrr, purrrr,
Purrrr, purrrr.”
Pat, pat, pat, pat, pat, pat, pat, pat! Spot heard some little feet coming. A little boy in a nightgown ran into the room. “Look,” he called, “at the pretty spotted cat under our table!” Then pat, pat, pat, pat, pat! And a little girl in a nightgown ran into the room. “See,” she called, “the pussy has come to take supper with us!” Then the little boy, quick as a wink, put a saucer on the floor and poured some of his milk into it and the little girl, quick as a wink, poured some of hers in too.
In and out, in and out, in and out, went Spot’s pink tongue lapping up the milk. Then she sat up and washed her face very carefully. Then she curled up and closed her eyes and began to sing. That was her way of saying “Thank you, little boy and little girl! I’m so glad I’ve found a home!”
“Purrrr, purrrr,
Purrrr, purrrr,
Purrrr, purrrr, purrrr.”
THE DINNER HORSES
THE GROCERY MAN
The material for these stories came from questions and observations on the part of three- and four-year-olds arising largely from their trips on the city streets. The children should be allowed to name the various kinds of food.