“‘Well,’ said the wise old cat, ‘I’ll let you out in a minute.’ So she took the sharp knife in her paw, and she just slashed it good through the string that tied up the neck of the bag, and in a minute out popped the man, and stood up on his feet. And then they heard a cry, ‘Oh, dear me, I’d like to get out!’ and, don’t you think, right around the corner was another big bag with a man inside it, all tied up around the neck, and sitting on a stone by the roadside. And so the man that had just got out and his wise old cat, who slipped the sharp knife into her mouth again, rushed around the corner; and the cat took the knife in her paw before her master had a chance to, and she just slashed it through the string that tied up the bag, and in a minute that man, too, was out, and standing on his feet on the ground.”
Phronsie laughed in delight, and clapped her hands. “Polly, I like that cat, and she’s good,” she cried again, dreadfully excited.
“So she is, Pet,” cried Polly, nodding away to her. Then she raced on.
“Well, those two men stared into each other’s faces; and one said, ‘Well, I declare, how do you do, Mr. Brown?’ and the other man said, ‘Well, I declare, how do you do, Mr. Smith?’ And just then they all heard a little cry; and around another corner was another bag all tied up just as the other two had been, and sitting on a stone by the roadside. And then the wise old cat did just as she had done before; and pretty soon there were three men standing up quite straight on the ground, and they all said, ‘This is perfectly dreadful, isn’t it?’
“‘Now, I tell you, sirs,’ said the wise old cat, sitting down before them, and staring at them very hard, ‘I’ve got a plan in my head, and you must do as I say.’
“‘Indeed you must,’ whispered her master to the others, ‘because when she looks like that, she knows how to do things. And she’s got something on her mind.’
“‘Just as soon as we find all the men in this town who are tied up in bags, and set on stones by the roadside, and get them out,’ said the wise old cat, ‘we must hurry right home. But we’ve got to have twelve men,’ and she bobbed her head to herself; but she didn’t tell her master that there were twelve robbers in his house, for, you see, she had counted them.
“And all this while those twelve robbers were eating up the mince-pies that belonged to that cat’s mistress, and there she was going to have all the cousins over to dinner the very next day. And those dreadful robbers sat on the kitchen table, and ate, and ate, and ate. And then they drank up all the milk.”
Phronsie stirred uneasily, and looked very sad over this; so Polly hastened to say, before she could ask the question, “except some in the pitcher up on the top shelf, that was put there for the littlest little girl.”
But still Phronsie’s face was very grave. “Won’t there be any left for that nice old cat when she gets home, Polly?” she asked.