"You don't know, either," said Minnie, opening her eyes wide. "You weren't there, you old thing! You were upstairs."
Her loud noise awoke the parrot. He took his head from under his wing and cried out, "Polly did!"
"That's a wicked story, you naughty bird," said Minnie. "You were in grandma's room; so now!"
Then Minnie tried to go to sleep again. She lay down and counted white sheep, just as grandma said she did when she couldn't sleep. But there was a big lump in her throat. "Oh, I wish I hadn't!"
Pretty soon there came a very soft patter of four little feet, and her pussy jumped upon the bed, kissed Minnie's cheek, and then began to "pur-r-r-r, pur-r-r." It was very queer, but that, too, sounded as if pussy said, "I know, I know."
"Yes, you do know, kitty," said Minnie, and then she threw her arms around kitty's neck and cried bitterly. "And—I guess—I want—to—see—my—mamma!"
Mamma opened her eyes when she saw the little weeping girl coming, and then Minnie told her the miserable story.
"I was awfully naughty, mamma, but I did want the custard pie so bad, and so I ate it up, 'most a whole pie, and then—I—I—I—Oh, I don't want to tell, but I 'spect I must; I shut kitty in the pantry to make you think she did it. But I'm truly sorry, mamma."
Then mamma told Minnie that she had known all about it. But she had hoped that the little daughter would be brave enough to tell her all about it herself.
"But mamma," she asked, "how did you know it wasn't kitty?"