A little twitter in front of her made Posy look up from her work, and hopping on the gravelled walk was a little sparrow. He didn’t seem to be at all afraid of her, and hopped about and twittered in a very cheerful way.
Then came the barn-cat stealing softly towards the little sparrow. She would take a few steps, and then sit down and pretend she didn’t see him. He evidently didn’t see her, for instead of flying away he hopped about as confidently as if there were no such thing as a cat in the world.
The barn-cat came nearer still, and crouched in the way she always did before she sprang, and Posy couldn’t bear it any longer.
“Go away, you naughty kitty!” cried Posy, dropping her work; and running towards the barn-cat she caught her up in her arms.
“You mustn’t catch the dear little birdies; I’ve told you so a great many times,” said Posy, walking towards the barn with her. “You go and stay with your babies, and try to catch some of the ugly old rats. Michael says they eat up Major’s oats, and he’s going to buy a trap and catch ’em in it;” and Posy put the barn-cat inside the barn-door, and then went back to her work.
She didn’t see a pair of small bright eyes shining in a hole around the corner of the barn, nor see the ugly face with gray whiskers they belonged to; nor did she hear him say with a vicious smile, “Catch ’em in a trap, will he? I guess he’ll find out that it isn’t so easy to catch an old rat as he thinks. Look out, my dear Posy! you may hear from the ugly rats in a way you don’t like.”
Posy went back to her work on the piazza; but the sparrow had flown away, and Posy hunted in vain for her little piece of red ribbon with the gold figures embroidered on it.
“Where has that ribbon gone?” said Posy, anxiously pulling over the little heap of bright-colored silks. “Dear me! the very beautifulest piece I had, and I was going to make a ball-dress for Miss Pompadour out of it. How disappointed her will be!” and Posy was almost ready to cry with disappointment herself.
All this time the sparrow had the piece of red ribbon safe in his little claw, and was flying away with it to the old swallow’s nest under the eaves of the piazza where he had slept of late.
