A DINNER INVITATION
GOODNESS me, Mr. Slipper-Slopper took so long to pull on his boots that Puss said, "Really, if you don't hurry the fox will be miles away, and you'll never get back your gray goose."
"Yes, John, you had better take this young cat's advice," cried Mrs. Slipper-Slopper.
"Then John, he went up to the hill,
And he blew a blast both loud and shrill;
Says the fox, 'This is very pretty music—still
I'd rather be at my den.'"
"Gracious me!" exclaimed Puss to himself, "Mr. Slipper-Slopper is crazy. Why does he blow his horn? It's bad enough to hunt a fox with a broom!"
"Look here, Mr. Slipper-Slopper," he cried, "you have no boots—you've nothing but slippers. You have no gun—you've nothing but an old broom. And what's more, you have no sense. You deserve to lose your gray goose and your black duck. Good-by." And Puss ran off in disgust.
"I've no use for a man who can't protect his own," he muttered to himself. "I won't help catch that fox. Let him have a feast. He must eat as well as Mr. Slipper-Slopper. Probably Mr. Slipper-Slopper would have killed the gray goose for dinner in a few days, anyhow."
"Helloa, what are you talking about?" cried Mr. Fox, jumping out from behind a large stone.
"So you think old Slipper-Slopper would have killed the goose and eaten it himself, do you?" asked the fox with a grin.