COG STORIES

Manawatu Times, Volume LIV, Issue 6884, 13 April 1929, Page 14

COG STORIES

Prize of 2/6 For the Best Ending to this Cat Story LITTLE CAT HAS SOME FTTN

It was 12 o'clock at\night in the house where Little Cat lived. Grandfather Clock, standing in the hall, had just struck twelve times in his solemn, dignified and this familiar sound had awakened Little Cat in his basket behind the kitchen stove. But it had not awakened him as much as it usually did. He remained curled up in his basket with one paw under his head and the other paw over his nose, but he opened one eye and listened with one car.

“I hear you,,’ purred Little Cat, pretending he was speaking to Grandfather Clock, “but I am not going to get up. Not just yet. lam going to take 40 winks more of this delicious sleep.” And then Little Cat closed his eyes nnd went to sleep again. Usually Little Cat would have jumped out of his basket when he heard Grandfather Clock striking 12. But he had been kept awake later than usual, so he was not so puick to get up. The cook had been having another cook for company that evening, and the company had stayed so late that Little Cat had wondered whether they were going to sit up and talk all night. When the cook had company that didn't stay so late Little Cat quite enjoyed lying in his cozy basket behind the stove and bearing them talk. When the talk was uninteresting he would take a cat hap, and when it got interesting again he would wake up and listen. At about 10 o’clock the company would got up and go home, and the cook would go to bed, and Littlo Cat would go sound asleep. But this time the company had stayed long past 30 o’clock, and the cook and the company had talked and talked and talked until Little Cat had felt like getting out of his basket, and standing on his hind legs, and stamping on the floor with one hind paw, and pointing at the door with one l’ronc paw to show the company that it was past time for her to go home. Bufi of courso he didn’t, for no cat would think seriously of acting in such a way when there was anybody of the human kind looking at him. So when Grandfather Clock struck 12 Little Cat was still sleepy enough to enjoy taking 40 more winks.

Forty More Winks. Little Oat took 40 more winks, and then he felt wide enough awake to get up. Ho got out of his basket, washed his face with his paws, combed his claws, did his regular morning exercises, got his cane, and let himself out of the house. “What a night! What a night! said Little Cat. “Oh, those people! Those people! They think I'm asleep in my basket, and here I am, up and out and enjoying the beauties of nature. What fun! What fun!” It was truly a line winter night, not too cold, but cold enough to make the stars twinkle. Little Cat went along the street, walking on his land legs like a little gentleman, and swinging his cane. When, he came to the Smithses’ house, whero Dog Wow lived in * house of his own in the backyard, Little Cat turned in at the gate and walked up to Dog Wow's house and knocked on it with his cane. He would have knocked on the door if there had been one, but Dog Wow’s house had an opening instead of a door, and, of course, nobody can knock on an open-

“That you, Little Cat!” asked Dog Wow from inside his house. “Como out, come out, Dog Wow, said Little Oat. “It’s a wonderful night. ” “I’m just putting on my hat, said Do" Wow, coming out with his hat on.” “I was just coming to .bark under your window.” “The cook had company,” said .Little Cat. “They kept me awake so late that I just had to take 40 more winks of delicious sleep. ’ ’ “It must be interesting to hear them talk,” said Dog Wow. “That’s the advantage of living in the house.” “Sometimes it is,” said Little Cat, “and sometimes it isn’t.” Little Cat and Dog Wow walked along the street, enjoying the winter Dight and talking about this and that. They talked about the Jones’s pig, and what a dull fellow he was, always digging with his nose and never walking about and enjoying the scenery. “What a life!” said Little Cat. “I am glad, Dog Wow, that I am not a pig.” . “He enjoys it, Little Cat,” said Dog Wow. “So I suppose it’s the life for him.” They talked about cats and dogs

with whom they were acquainted, and about what the cook had said to the company and what the company had said to the cook, and whether the moon was really made of green cheese, as they had heard said, and how pleasant it was to walk out at night when there were no people around to bother them. "I daro say they mean well,” said Dog Wow, “and I always wag my tail. But one docs get tired of being called ‘Doggie, Doggie.” “Or ‘Kitty, Kitty,” said Little Cat. And by that time they had walked and talked till they were quite'a long way from home and it was about time to start back.

A Small Red Object. “What’s this? What’s this?” said Dog Wow, stopping to look at a small red object lying on the sidewalk. “It‘s a mitten, Dog Wow,” said Little Oat. “A child’s mitten. You must have seen them, Dog Wow. The children wear them over their paws to keep their paws warm. They come in pairs, one mitten for each -paw.” “I have seen them.” said Dog Wow. “They wear them to school. A "child has lost its mitten. Too bad 1 Too bad!” “We must return that mitten to that child,” said Little Oat. “Think of that poor child, Dog Wow. With only one mitten ! ” “But we don’t know who the child is, Little Cat,” said Dog Wow. “Sniff it, Dog Wow,” said Little Cat, “and see if it sniffs like any child we do know.” Dog Wow sniffed the mitten, and looked thoughtful, and sniffed it again and shook his head so decidedly that he almost shook off his hat. “No,” said Dog Wow, “this mitten does not sniff like any child I know. I thought at first it sniffed like Willy Jeak, and then I thought it sniffed like Milly Jenk, and then I thought it sniffed like Tilly Jenk. So of course it doesn’t sniff like any of them. Because, you see, a sniff is a sniff. Little Cat.” V “I suppose it is,” said Little Cat. “I don’t know much about sniffs.” “A sniff is a sniff,” repeated Dog Wow, lifting one front paw up and down as if he were giving Little Cat a lecture. “There are one, two, four, seven million kinds of sniffs. Now we know that this mitten belongs to one child, and one child does not sniff like three children. So X have to say, Little Cat, that I do not recognise this sniff.” “Whatever child this mitten belongs

}o,” said Little Cat, “we cannot leave it here in the road. Suppose it rained or snowed before morning. Suppose it got kicked into the gutter. We’ve got to do something about that mitten, Dog Wow.” “We might take it to my blouse,” said Dog Wow. ‘ ‘ And then if we hear of any child who has lost a mitten, we can take it to that child’3 house and leave it on the doorstep.” “We should probably never hear,” said Little Cat. “And if we did it might not bo the same child and the same mitten.”

Mike who was very fond of a little joke, went up to a railway ticket collector and tried to pass through the gates. “But whoTe is yonr ticket ?” asked the man. “My face is my ticket I” said Mike. “T^eiy 1 said the collector, entering into the joke, “my orders are to punch all tickets ! ’'