OUT ON A LIMB, FROM WHICH HE DANGLED HIS RED-TOPPED BOOTS
"No, ma'am, but I'm his son," was the quick reply. "I'm Puss in Boots, Junior."
"Oh, of course," she said. "I knew your father years ago, and for a moment I forgot how time flies. Yes, we were very good friends in those old days. He was a very fine cat."
Puss, Jr., nodded politely.
"Won't you come in?" the Old Woman asked, turning toward her shoe house, "though you may find it difficult, as I can hardly find room for all my children. I suppose people think I'm very cross," she continued, as they managed to squeeze past the children in the hallway, "because I give them all a whipping before putting them to bed; but if I didn't, those I put to bed first wouldn't lie still. You see, by the time I get the last one to bed it's time to take the first one up for breakfast."
Puss, Jr., felt very sorry for her, as she didn't seem cross a bit, and the children clung to her skirt in a loving manner.
"Will you have a bowl of broth?" she asked. "It is about lunch-time, and I'm going to give the children some."
He thanked her, and said he would gladly, as he was hungry and tired. He sat down with the children, who had by this time arranged themselves in a row, each one with an empty bowl in his hands. The broth tasted very good, and Puss, Jr., felt so much better after eating it that he proposed a game of tag. They all ran outside and stood around in a ring while he counted "eeny, meeny, miney, mo," till all were out except himself.
"You're it!" the children cried, gleefully.
What a frolic followed! He finally caught the biggest boy, making believe for some time to miss the little tots, who screamed with fun as he chased them in and out among the trees.