"Well, my good Sir Cat," answered the cobbler, "I did not know for certain. I can make two pair as well as one."
"And charge for two pair, I warrant, also," cried Puss, with a grin.
"I can give you fine work," said the cobbler.
"Are you sure?" asked Puss. "My last pair, which was unfortunately burned up in a fire, was made by a royal cobbler."
"I have not made boots for royalty," replied the cobbler, "but I made the shoe in which an old woman lives with so many children that it would take you an hour to count them all. That was some job, let me tell you. One doesn't often live in a shoe, although one may walk in one."
"You don't mean to tell me you made that wonderful shoe?" cried Puss.
"Most certainly, my good Sir Cat."
"Then you shall make me a pair of boots. And, mind you, my good man, they must have red tops."
"That they shall," said the cobbler. "Dismount, and come into my humble shop. I would measure your feet."