Pussy pretended to be her daughter.
“You may look like little angels, but you are nothing but little imps of mischief.”
Both kittens looked up at her with their sweetest expressions, trying to convince her how innocent they were.
“Oh, I know all about that,” cook went on, but already her scolding was getting more into a smiling one, “you may look little angels but you’re nothing but little imps of mischief.”
“Miaou, miaou,” said Minette in her sweetest voice, and Tompkins gave a plaintive little purr, for they were getting very sleepy after their exciting adventure. This was too much for cook; they both looked such darlings that before they could drop off to sleep she was down on her knees petting them and calling them her “saucy little poppets.”