“I know it is not far from town,” said Tommy Traddles, planting his umbrella in the ground, and setting down his pail of milk beside it, with a wink at Wutz-Butz to keep his eye on it—no one could tell what some thirsty stranger cat might be tempted to do. “It is not far from town, ’Clipsy, but it is rather better for that. Did you never notice that when human beings have lost something they always look everywhere else for it before they look near home? I suppose you haven’t noticed that, because you have not lived with human beings since you were so little, but it is quite true that when anything is lost and can’t be found, it always turns out that it is because no one looked just at hand, where the lost thing always hides. So it is better for us to settle nearer our old human town than to go away off—to another State, for instance.”
There was no disputing with a cat that could allude so carelessly to “another State.” ’Clipsy at once gave up arguing; he didn’t know what “another State” meant, and he wondered greatly how Tommy could be so wise.
“Oh, it’s all right as to that,” said Ban-Ban, speaking in his quick way. He understood about states, because he had so often sat by Rob when he was learning his lessons. “I don’t think any one would find us in this place; but I wonder if there is a good market here.”
“There ought to be fish in that river,” said Madam Laura, who liked fish even better than most cats. “I know how to catch fish with my paw.”
“There are fish in that stream,” said Tommy Traddles, decidedly. “And field-mice in the woods; the market here will be excellent. I am convinced that the guardian fairies of good cats have led us here. It is well to be near town, because our city must be easily reached by homeless cats who may wish to join us. I advise you, my friends, to decide upon this spot at once as the site of the city. Do you agree to stay here?”
“Yes, yes, yes!” cried all the cats together, their voices making a chorus of soprano, alto, bass, baritone, and tenor. Even the kittens joined with their thin little pipes, though they may have been crying from sleepiness.
“We’ll make a camp!” cried Ban-Ban, putting up his back and dancing around on his toes the way he had always done when Rob offered to play with him. “We will camp out for the night, and in the morning we will ask the carpenter cats to begin to build our houses.”
“It won’t take us long,” cried the carpenter cats, five of the strangers who had joined the party.
“I told a friend of mine I would write at once after we settled on a site to let him know where he could join us. What are you going to call the town?” asked one of these cats.
“Purrington!” cried Bidelia, triumphantly, looking around for the praise she felt sure that this happy name would win from all her companions. She had been thinking up a name during the three days that she was getting together her kittens’ neck-ribbons, mending their clothes, and packing for the journey.