"I don't believe there is one," said Hortense. "What difference does it make, anyhow?"
"Ah," said Highboy, "you're not a poet and don't know what it is to want a rhyme."
So Andy and Hortense sadly left him and by and by came to the other side of the raspberry patch and to the path of which the Owl had spoken.
"I suppose we must try to reach home this way," said Hortense, "for we daren't go by the Little People again."
"One way is about as bad as another," Andy agreed.
"If we meet Jeremiah and Grater, we'll eat our cooky quick," Hortense said. "Then they won't be so formidable."
"And then we'd never get through the tunnel," finished Andy.
However, they kept on along the path which they had traveled before and after a while came to the little gate beyond which lay the Cat's house. There was no light except the gleam of the fire upon the windowpane.
Andy and Hortense hesitated.
"Let's look in," said Andy. "Perhaps no one's at home."