The Adventures of Puss in Boots, Jr. Part 6

For some time Puss, Jr., traveled with the circus, but at last, finding that he could make better time if he traveled alone, he said good-by and started off by himself. Perhaps he remembered the old saying, "He travels faster who travels alone." At any rate, he made up his mind on this point and set bravely out by himself.

But he was not lonely, for he was continually seeing new sights and new people.

One morning as he trudged along a road bordered by green meadows he saw at some little distance ahead a large apple-tree. As he drew near a p.u.s.s.y-cat ran up the trunk.

Little Robin Redbreast sat upon a tree, Up went p.u.s.s.y-Cat, and down went he; Down came p.u.s.s.y-Cat, away Robin ran; Said Little Robin Redbreast, "Catch me if you can!"

Little Robin Redbreast jumped upon a wall, p.u.s.s.y-Cat jumped after him, and almost got a fall; Little Robin chirp'd and sang, and what did p.u.s.s.y say?

p.u.s.s.y-Cat said, "Mew," and Robin flew away.

"What are you trying to do?" asked Puss in Boots, Jr., stopping in front of the tree and looking up at the p.u.s.s.y-cat, who sat upon the wall, looking after the robin, who had flown away.

"I'm not trying to do anything," replied the p.u.s.s.y-cat, crossly, "but I was wishing I had wings."

"They would be very nice," replied Puss, Jr., reflectively; "they would be most convenient at times."

"Indeed they would!" answered the p.u.s.s.y-cat; "they'd be lots better even than red-topped boots."

Puss looked down at his feet. "Perhaps," he answered, "but I have found my boots most helpful. Do you know," he continued, "if people would be a little more contented with what they have I think they'd get more."

The p.u.s.s.y-cat did not answer for a few minutes. Then she said: "What you say is very true. I suppose I ought to be thankful that I have such nice strong claws. It's not hard work climbing trees, and, as far as running goes, my legs carry me very well. Perhaps I don't need wings, after all."

"Well, I never saw a flying cat," admitted Puss, Jr., "although I've seen some remarkable things since I started out to find my father, Puss in Boots."

"So you are a traveler," said the p.u.s.s.y-cat, jumping down from the wall and walking up to Puss. "How long have you been seeking your father?"

"A long, long time," replied Puss, Jr. "Do you know, sometimes I almost get discouraged, for this is a big world and at times I feel so very, very small."

"Well, you come home with me," said the p.u.s.s.y-cat, "and get a good rest.

I think you're tired out." This was the truth, for he had traveled far that day.

PUSS MEETS MOTHER GOOSE

"Oh, my pretty c.o.c.k, oh, my handsome c.o.c.k, I pray you do not crow before day, And your comb shall be made of the very beaten gold, And your wings of the silver so gray."

Puss, Jr., opened his eyes sleepily to find himself in Mother Goose's arms. They were seated on a gander's back, who was flying along as if such a thing as traveling with two pa.s.sengers was nothing at all. As Mother Goose finished her little verse, the gander alighted on the roof of a big red barn on which a weatherc.o.c.k sedately turned this way and that in the early morning breeze. The sun was just coming up, for it was early, very early. Puss rubbed his eyes and sat up. "And how's my little p.u.s.s.y-cat?" asked Mother Goose, stroking him kindly. "Did he have a good night's sleep?"

"Yes, indeed, thank you," answered Puss, now thoroughly awake and remembering how he had met Mother Goose the previous day, and how fortunate it was that she had agreed to take him back to Mother Goose Land.

"c.o.c.k-a-doodle-do!" said the weatherc.o.c.k.

"Crow as much as you like," said Mother Goose. "Now that Puss is awake you can make all the noise you wish. At first I thought we were not going to stop on your barn, Sir Chantecler, and that was the reason I asked you to delay your early morning crow so that we could be far away before you commenced. Puss is in need of all the sleep he can get, for in a few days he will be on his feet again. He has still a long ways to go ere he finds his famous father, Puss in Boots."

"Well," answered the weatherc.o.c.k, "I didn't crow before day, so kindly give me a gold comb and silver wings."

"That I will," answered Mother Goose, "this very evening."

"And who will bring them?" asked the weatherc.o.c.k, for he was very vain, and is sometimes called a weather-vane, perhaps for that reason. "Who will bring them to me, and how am I to know that a gold comb will be becoming or that silver wings will suit my complexion?"

"Leave that to me," said Mother Goose, with a lofty air. "Weatherc.o.c.ks only know of the breezes that blow; they swing back and forth when the wind's from the north, the south, east or west--they are never at rest."

"More poetry from Mother Goose," sighed the weatherc.o.c.k. "If people must talk, why do they want to rhyme it out? Let them talk in good old prose. It suits me best."

Mother Goose evidently did not hear his remarks, for she was busily feeding the gander. Puss was stretching his legs by walking along the roof and watching some sparrows who were chirping under the eaves.

Presently she called Puss. "We are off again," she cried; "get aboard the goose-ship!" When they were comfortably seated she turned to the weatherc.o.c.k and said: "This evening the sun will gild your comb and silver your wings just before he goes behind yonder western hill.

Good-by!"

The weatherc.o.c.k did not reply, and the gander did not wait, but flew away with his two pa.s.sengers safely sitting on his back.

TRIPPING WITH THE STARS

"Twinkle, twinkle, little star, How I wonder what you are!

Up above the world so high, Like a diamond in the sky."

Puss repeated this little rhyme to himself as he looked at a lovely star that shone in the heavens with a soft and silvery light.

"I always liked that little song," said Mother Goose. "I've heard it time and again. Mothers always sing that to their babies just before they go to sleep."

"Do they?" asked Puss. "Mine never did. She used to sing about little mice and birds."

Mother Goose laughed heartily. "It all depends on whose little baby you are," she said, "but I guess it all comes out all right in the end."

The gander said never a word. He was doubtless too busy propelling his great wings and steering with his tail to pay much attention to what his two pa.s.sengers were saying.

I don't know whether there was a sign up like the ones they have in the cars, "Don't talk to the motorman," or not. At any rate, the gander observed the law, for he made no answer. On and on they went, through the night. Past cloud and star, over river and valley, hill and dale, swiftly and silently, for after these few remarks both Mother Goose and Puss grew very sleepy.

It must have been well on toward morning before they awoke. Nestled on a soft, feathery gander's back, with the wind singing lullabies as you travel swiftly underneath the stars, is quite sufficient to keep any one asleep. It was indeed a mighty fine cradle, and if the morning sun had not poked his golden fingers into Puss, Jr.'s, eyes he might still have been sound asleep.

"Mother Goose," he cried, touching the dear old lady gently on the shoulder, "we are getting very near the earth. It's time for you to wake up."

"To be sure it is," she replied, rubbing her eyes and arranging her curls beneath her old peaked hat; "to be sure, and, dearie me! I believe I have actually overslept!"

They were now close to the earth. The c.o.c.ks were crowing l.u.s.tily in the barn-yards, and every now and then the bark of a dog, faint but clear, would come to their ears.

"It's funny to look at a house from the outside in the early morning,"

said Puss. "I've always looked out from the inside."

"Of course you have, my dear little traveler," answered Mother Goose, "but now that you are on your journey to find your famous father, Puss in Boots, you will see many things very differently."

"Well," said the gander, for the first time speaking, "I'm a bit tired, so I think I will alight near this old barn."

Puss was delighted, for he wanted once more to feel himself on earth.