“Come, puss, puss,” encouraged Madame Bonnet in her comfortable voice, “drink your milk.”
And pussy timidly put out her pink tongue and drank the milk thirstily.
“You needn’t be afraid to leave her to me,” observed Madame Bonnet to Grandfather, who was looking at his watch. “I like a cat, when I know it’s a cat and not a whirlwind. I’ll take off the can when she is more used to me, and I’ll keep her here a bit till I find her a home.”
Outside the shop, the party halted once more.
“Don’t play any more tricks like this, will you, Tim?” asked Mr. Drew. “And shake hands.”
Tim nodded and thrust out his hard little hand. He grinned cheerfully up at Mr. Drew, and was off down the street, whistling shrilly between his fingers as he ran.
“When I get home,” confided Susan in Grandfather’s ear, as she sat on his lap on the homeward ride, “I’m going to tell Snowball all about it, and about that bad boy, and then I guess she will be glad that she has lost her tail. Don’t you?”
[CHAPTER IV—THE SQUASH BABY]
Susan was very unhappy. She stood by her bedroom window, kicking the wall, and at every kick she said, “mean, mean, mean.”
It was all about a little berry pie. Grandmother had made for Susan’s dinner a saucer pie. It was juicy and brown and had fancy little crimps all about the edge. It looked almost too good to eat.