“There’s more nor rats,” replied nurse sententiously as she folded her napkin and picked up Peter Pan, who had been left perched on the window sill by Sally, who dearly loved to get down into the cosy kitchen, for she and cook were great friends. That very morning she had been allowed to bake a panful of the most delicious little cookies, under cook’s supervision, of course. She had quite forgotten Peter Pan in her delighted interest in this new and absorbing employment, and had left him stranded, high and dry, on the window sill, when she hurried off upstairs to show to mamma the results of her domestic economy.
Now the Teddy bear was naturally very much offended that he had not been invited to taste the goodies at which he had been sniffing hungrily during their preparation; much more so that he had been left behind when Sally carried them away. Therefore he was now in anything but a pleasant frame of mind and felt very much inclined to bite nurse when she picked him up and carried him off to the nursery.
“Sure and there’s more nor rats,” she repeated half aloud as she ran up the back stairs with Peter Pan upside down under her arm. The bear certainly acquiesced most emphatically in this idea, but as it was not his time for being active he could only do so in his own mind.
Peter Pan’s visit to the kitchen had put an entirely new idea into his bearish head. He had never been down there before and now discovered, for the first time, from whence came all the delectable dishes that appeared on the dining-room table. It had become a decidedly difficult matter to forage for his good sized family, as there were few edibles to be found above stairs. To be sure, nurse liked a bit of a lunch before she went to bed, and Sally usually had a glass of warm milk on retiring. But the scraps and leavings from these repasts were slender, and their disappearance had so emphasized the theory of rats that a couple of ominous looking traps had been baited with toasted cheese and set in the nursery.
Peter Pan was dreadfully afraid of being caught in one of them and for some time gave them a wide berth. The cheese, however, smelt deliciously, and at last the desire to possess the toothsome morsels so far overcame his fear that he attempted to poke it out with nurse’s big shears, purloined for the purpose from her work basket. But he had only succeeded in springing the trap, without securing the cheese, while the scissors were caught and held firmly in spite of all the Teddy bear’s efforts to dislodge them.
This being discovered in the morning, it added another mystery to the already long list of queer “doin’s,” as nurse called them.
Only Rough House was beginning to have an idea or two in his doggish head, mere suspicions that he could not have been able to communicate to any one except to Rags, the little fox terrier, even had he been able to confirm them.
Rough House and Rags both disliked Peter Pan cordially, as they had always, heretofore, been Sally’s prime favorites, and were now feeling rather neglected since the advent of the Teddy bears.
And indeed Peter Pan returned their sentiments with interest partly because he was dreadfully afraid of both dogs and partly because he considered that Rough House poked his sharp nose into a great deal of business that was anything but his own, and was therefore to be proportionately feared.