In a little while the varnish had softened, and Mr. Bobbsey could lift Snoop up and hand her to his wife. Then he took up the board, and washed from Snoop's paws what remained of the varnish. She was all right now, and purred happily as Flossie and Freddie took turns holding her.
"But the floor is spoiled—or that part is where you poured the turpentine," said Mrs. Bobbsey.
"The painter will varnish that part over when he comes in the morning," said Mr. Bobbsey. "Then we must keep Snoop out of the way until it dries."
And this was done. The floor was gone over again with the varnish brush, and the marks of Snoop's paws did not show. Nor did the cat again go into the parlor until the floor was hard and dry.
"Mother," asked Nan one day, about a week after Snoop had been stuck fast in the varnish, "may I have a little party?"
"A party, Nan?"
"Yes, just a few boys and girls from my class in school. The parlor looks so nice now, with the new floor, that I'd like to give a party. May I?"
"Well, yes, I guess so," answered Mrs. Bobbsey. "How many would you invite?"
"About a dozen. We could have sandwiches, ice cream and cake. I could bake a cake myself."
"Well, you might try. I have showed you how to make a simple cake, that is not too rich for little stomachs. You might bake a sponge cake, and put icing on top. Yes, I think you may have a party, Nan."