After breakfast, he took twenty cents which he had saved towards buying a book called The Swiss Family Robinson, which Frank Lee told him was something like Robinson Crusoe, and went to the grocery store to buy some provisions.
He bought a sheet of gingerbread, some crackers, and a piece of cheese, and ran across the fields with them to the brook. He was very careful to keep away from the house, so that his sister should not see him. Having placed these things in the box on the raft, so that they would be safe, he went back to the house once more.
“Puss, puss, puss,” said he; and presently the old black cat came purring and mewing up to him, and rubbing her head against his legs.
Poor pussy had not the least idea that she was destined to be the companion of a Robinson Crusoe; so she let him take her up in his arms. If she had only known what a scrape she was about to get into, I am sure she would not have let Mr. Crusoe, Jr., put one of his fingers upon her.
“Trip, Trip, Trip,—come here, Trip,” said he to the spaniel dog that was sleeping on the door mat.
Trip had no more idea than pussy of the famous plan in which he was to play a part; so he waked up and followed his young master. I don’t believe Trip had any taste for Crusoe life; and he would have liked to know where his beef and bones were to come from, for he was not very fond of gingerbread and crackers.
If pussy didn’t “smell a rat” when they reached the raft, it was because there was no rat for her to smell; but she showed a very proper spirit, and, by her scratching and snarling, showed that she did not like the idea of sailing down the river on a raft.
Robert did not heed her objections; and what do you think he did with poor pussy? Why, he put her in the box with the crackers and gingerbread and cheese! Trip, having a decided taste for the water, did not object to going upon the raft. Yet, judging from the way he looked up into his master’s face, he wondered what was “in the wind,” and what big thing was going to be done.
“Now, Trip, we are all ready for a start,” said Robert, as he stepped upon the raft. “You needn’t scratch and cry so, pussy. Nobody is going to hurt you.”
Trip looked up in his face and wagged his tail, and pussy scratched and howled, and refused to be comforted. But Trip had the advantage of pussy very much in one respect, for, when he became sick of the adventure, he could jump into the water and swim ashore.