She looked about her for her toys. She only saw a few of them, and at the same time she heard something scratching and growling over by the window. She ran quickly to see, and there found a black cat wound up in her favorite toys, kicking and scratching, and making a great fuss.
“Oh, dear!” she began to cry, “you have ruined my things, you nasty, mean cat!” The cat sat up on its hind legs, every hair bristling.
“Don’t you call me that!” it said. “What did you do to the fan? Remember where you are.”
“I am in my own room,” said Tina.
“Oh, you think so,” said the cat. “Well, perhaps you will find out you are mistaken. It is my room, I’ll have you to know.”
“It isn’t,” said Tina.
“It is,” said the cat.
“I am going to tell my mamma,” sobbed Tina; and she ran to the door.
But the cat was there before her, and began waltzing around on its hind legs, crying, “Where is the rose? How are you going to get out without the rose?”
And Tina found she could not get by the cat. She made a rush at it and gave it a knock. Instantly the room was full of cats. They snarled and glared at Tina, so that she was frightened nearly to death.