“Well, you can take the cat down to the barn. I won’t have it in the house,” said Mrs. Alder.
“All right, we’ll find a place for her,” said Mr. Alder. He took Clematis by the hand, and they went down to the barn.
A gray horse poked his head from a box stall to look at the little visitor, and a little red hen called her chickens, and hastened away, clucking, as if she were very angry.
Clematis turned to look at her.
“Did you ever have any chickens?” asked Mr. Alder.
“Oh, no, I never saw any.” Clematis could not take her eyes from the little chicks, as they ran after their anxious mother.
“We have lots of things to show you here. Let’s put your cat up in the loft now.”
They went up a set of stairs, and there was a loft, full of sweet hay.
Clematis stuck one hand out