Part 7 (2/2)

He made the last remark carelessly like a young gentleman who will stroll out and leave the women-folk to their devices.

”O Tommie!” said Mother Huldah, ”you are not going to do anything impulsive?”

”Mother Huldah,” replied Tommie, ”did you ever know a cat to do anything impulsive unless he saw a bird, or a mouse?”

With that he left her, and she watched him walk away down the forest path with the sunlight glistening on his coat and his tail held high and straight. Sometimes he would pause and lift one foot daintily, the toes curling in. Mother Huldah always said that Tommie heard not with his ears but with his whiskers, and perhaps it was true.

Tommie himself was making his own plans as he went along. ”If I tell these villagers outright that Mother Huldah is in need, each person will think, 'O well, Neighbor Jude, or Gossip Dorcas has more to spare than I.

Someone else will take care of the poor old lady, I am sure.' And it will end in her getting nothing at all. I will not talk about her, but to each person I will talk about himself, for that is the way to get people interested.”

At which Tommie smiled, and because his great-grandfather was a Ches.h.i.+re Cat, his smile gave him a wise and jovial look, as if the Sphinx of Egypt should suddenly see a joke. With a good heart he went daintily on his way, shaking the snow from his paws at times, until he reached the village green. Now in the middle of the green stood the pump, made of wood with a flat top. On this Tommie seated himself, put his paws neatly together, folded his tail about them, made his green eyes perfectly round, and stared straight ahead of him.

Now even a cat when he looks as if he could think for himself will draw people's attention; especially if he seems to enjoy his thoughts. And Tommie, seated on the pump in the bright winter suns.h.i.+ne, looked as if he had something in his mind that pleased him.

”Heigh-O,” said one of the pa.s.sers-by. ”Here's a witch-cat!”

”You are mistaken,” replied Tommie with a wink. ”I belong to Mother Huldah, and she is the best woman in the village.”

The man was so astonished that he dropped a parcel of eggs he was carrying, and they were all broken.

”That's what comes,” said Tommie, ”of imagining evil where none exists.”

The man was so angry that he made some s...o...b..a.l.l.s hastily and began to pelt Tommie with them; but Tommie understood the beautiful art of dodging--which some people never learn all their lives--so he didn't get hit. By this time a crowd had gathered about the angry man, and were asking him what was the matter.

”Matter!” he shrieked, ”that black object on the pump gave me impudence!”

”Heigh-O!” cried little Elsa. ”How could a cat give thee impudence!”

”Ask him then,” said the man. ”He can talk like any Christian.”

At which the crowd all looked at Tommie, who winked at them and said, ”Does anybody here want to ask me any questions? I'll tell him what he wants to know in perfect confidence between him and me and the pump. If my answer pleases him, he can give me a silver piece. If my reply make his heart go pit-a-pat with joy he can give me a gold piece. If he doesn't like my answers, he needn't give me anything. Now that's fair, isn't it?”

Then everybody looked at everybody else, and dropped their jaws and rubbed their eyes. n.o.body stirred for a minute, then a fine young fellow stepped forward, blus.h.i.+ng. This was Carl, the miller's son, who was straight as a birch-tree, and had blue eyes like deep lakes, and he walked right up to the pump, and bowed, then he whispered into Tommie's ear, ”Does Lucia love me?”

Tommie winked his right eye and smiled. ”Carl,” he replied, ”get up your courage and ask her to-day, for she loves you better than anyone in the world.”

Then Carl felt his heart go pit-a-pat, and all the snow wreaths on the trees seemed to turn to bridal flowers. ”Thanks, dear and wise p.u.s.s.y,” he said, and took out his handkerchief and spread it at Tommie's feet and on it he placed not one, but three gold pieces.

When the villagers saw the gold pieces glittering in the sun and beheld the radiant face of Carl, they all began to wonder, and each person wanted to try his own luck. ”After all,” said each one to himself, ”if I don't like what the cat says I needn't pay him anything.”

The next person to go up was the village tanner, whose skin was like leather and whose eyes were little like a pig's. Tommie was already acquainted with him, having been kicked out of his tannery once when on an innocent mousing expedition.

”Say,” said the tanner, ”will my Uncle Jean leave me his farm?”

”No,” answered Tommie, winking his left eye. ”That he won't! He knows you are always wis.h.i.+ng he would die!”

The tanner was so angry that he snarled: ”Don't you ever let me catch you around the tannery again, or I'll make you into a m.u.f.f for my daughter.”

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