Little Milk grew calmer as the cat watched her. Moorka walked around the spot several times, fixed his whiskers very gently and said:
"Listen, folks! It isn't nice to quarrel. Choose me for your judge and I'll settle your affairs very quickly."
The black roach, sitting in the crack of the wall, almost choked with laughter.
"A judge indeed! I must say! Ha! Ha! Ha! It took you to think of it, you old rascal."
But Little Milk and Little Cereal were very glad to have someone settle their quarrel at last, for they really did not know why they were quarreling or what it was all about.
"Very well. Very well. I'll unravel this," said Kitty Moorka. "And I'll do it honestly. Let us begin with Milk."
He walked around the pot several times, touched Little Milk gently with his paw, blew upon her again and started lapping her up.
"Help Help!" shouted the black roach. "He will lap up all the milk and I will be blamed for it."
When Cook returned from market and looked for the milk, the pot was empty. Cat Moorka was sleeping sweetly near the stove as if nothing had happened.