But you just wait and read, in the next book after this, what happened to Flop Ear.
Soon Blackie and Flop Ear came to the field where the carrots grew. The white rabbit nibbled one, and told the cat to taste. Blackie did, but said:
“Oh, I don’t like carrots. They might be good if cooked in milk, but I do not like them raw.”
“That’s queer,” replied Flop Ear. “They are best raw, I think.”
The rabbit and the cat talked together a little longer, and then Blackie said she thought she had better travel on, and try to find her home.
“For I am tired of being a lost cat,” sighed Blackie.
That night Blackie slept in a field under a pile of hay. There were some little mice who had made a nest there too, but Blackie did not touch them, though she liked to eat mice.
But for her supper that night Blackie had found a piece of meat in front of a butcher shop, and as she had eaten that she was not hungry. So she let the little mice alone, and I guess they were happy about that.
But oh! how lonesome Blackie was for her own home! She thought about it very often that night as she cuddled down in the hay.
“If I don’t find my home before Winter I don’t know what I shall do,” thought Blackie. “It isn’t so bad sleeping out in Summer, but in the Winter it is going to be dreadful! I simply must find my home.”