"Oh, I picked her up on the road," said the peddler. "She looked as if she wanted a ride," he chuckled. "I think she was hunting along an old stone wall."
"She'll find hunting enough here," said his wife. "This house is overrun with mice. I'll just put her down cellar and let her work for her supper." Then she gave Miss Kitty a toss down the cellar stairs and slammed the door behind her.
It was no wonder that Miss Kitty Cat was angry.
"A fine way to treat a guest!" she spluttered down there in the dark. "That woman might have set out a little milk for me. It would have tasted good, after my long ride in that stuffy basket." Miss Kitty couldn't help thinking what a fine[p. 88] home she had had at Farmer Green's and how good Mrs. Green had always been to her.
Even Johnnie Green—though he was a boy—had petted her oftener than he had pulled her tail.
But Miss Kitty was too hungry to sit long at the foot of the cellar stairs in thought.
She soon heard faint rustlings squeaks, and scratchings around her. And though she didn't care to oblige the woman upstairs in any way, Miss Kitty lost no time in providing a hearty meal for herself.
Then she lay down on an old sack and slept for a while.
And just before the roosters began to crow she had found a broken pane in a cellar window.
"What luck!" said Miss Kitty under[p. 89] her breath. And very silently she slipped through the opening and stole away.