The Corner House Girls Part 12

"Goodness! I hadn't thought of that," confessed Agnes.

"You see, cats are funny creatures," Myra declared. "Sometimes they find their way home again, even if they are carried miles and miles away."

"But if I take the kittens, too-wouldn't she stay with her own kittens?"

"Well-p'r'aps. But the thing _is_, how are you going to carry them all?"

"Say! they're all in this old basket," said Agnes. "Can't I carry them just as they are?"

She picked the basket up. Old Sandy-face just "mewed" a little, but did not offer to jump out.

"Oh!" gasped Agnes. "They're heavy."

"You couldn't carry them all that way. And if Sandy saw a dog--"

"Maybe I'll have to blindfold her?" suggested Agnes.

"Put her in a bag!" cried Myra.

"But that seems so cruel!"

"I know. She might smother," admitted Myra.

"Goodness me!" said Agnes, briskly, "if we're going to have a cat, I don't want one that will always be afraid of me because I popped her into a bag. Besides, a cat is a dignified creature, and doing a thing like that would hurt her feelings. Don't you think so?"

"I guess Sandy-face wouldn't like it," agreed Myra, laughing at Agnes'

serious speech and manner.

"I tell you what," the second-oldest Kenway girl said. "I'll run home with the groceries your father has put up for me, and get the kids to come and help. They can certainly carry the kittens, while I take Sandy."

"Of course," agreed the relieved Myra. She saw a chance of disposing of the entire family without hurting her own, or the cats' feelings, and she was much pleased.

As for the impulsive Agnes, when she made up her mind to do a thing, she never thought of asking advice. She reached home with the groceries and put them into the hands of Uncle Rufus at the back door.

Then she called Tess and Dot from their play in the garden.

"Are your frocks clean, girls?" she asked them, hurriedly. "I want you to go to Mr. Stetson's store with me."

"What for, Aggie?" asked Dot, but quite ready to go. By Agnes'

appearance it was easy to guess that there was something exciting afoot.

"Shall I run ask Ruth?" Tess inquired, more thoughtfully.

Uncle Rufus was watching them from the porch. Agnes waved her hand to the black man, as she ushered the two smaller girls out of the yard onto Willow Street.

"No," she said to Tess. "Uncle Rufus sees us, and he'll explain to Ruth." At the moment, she did not remember that Uncle Rufus knew no more about their destination than Ruth herself.

The smaller girls were eager to learn the particulars of the affair as Agnes hurried them along. But the bigger girl refused to explain, until they were in the grocer's store-room.

"Now! what do you think of them?" she demanded.

Tess and Dot were delighted with the kittens and Sandy-face. When they learned that all four kittens and the mother cat were to be their very own for the taking away, they could scarcely keep from dancing up and down.

Oh, yes! Tess and Dot were sure they could carry the basket of kittens. "But won't that big cat scratch you, when you undertake to carry her, Aggie?" asked Tess.

"I won't let her!" declared Agnes. "Now you take the basket right up when I lift out Sandy."

"I-I'm afraid she'll hurt you," said Dot.

"She's real kind!" Agnes lifted out the mother-cat. Sandy made no complaint, but kept her eyes fixed upon the kittens. She was used to being handled by Myra. So she quickly snuggled down into Agnes' arms, purring contentedly. The two smaller girls lifted the basket of kittens between them.

"Oh, this is nice," said Tess, delightedly. "We can carry them just as easy! Can't we, Dot?"

"Then go right along. We'll go out of that side door there, so as not to take them through the store," instructed Agnes.

Sandy made no trouble at all. Agnes was careful to walk so that the big cat could look right down into the basket where her four kittens squirmed and occasionally squealed their objections to this sort of a "moving day."

The sun was warm and the little things could not be cold, but they missed the warmth of their mother's body, and her fur coat to snuggle up against! When they squealed, Sandy-face evinced some disturbance of mind, but Agnes managed to quiet her, until they reached Mrs. Adams'

front gate.

Mrs. Adams was the old lady who had told the Kenways about their father breaking one of her windows when he was a boy. She had shown much interest in the Corner House girls. Now she was out on her front porch and saw them coming along Willow Street.

"Whatever have you girls been up to?" she demanded, pleasantly enough, but evincing much curiosity.

"Why, Mrs. Adams," said Agnes, eagerly. "Don't you see? We've adopted a family."

"Humph! A family? Not those young'uns of Petunia Blossom? I see Uncle Rufus back at the old Corner House, and I expect the whole family will be there next."

"Why," said Agnes, somewhat surprised by this speech, "these are only cats."

"Cats?"

"Yes'm. Cats. That is, _a_ cat and four kittens."

Mrs. Adams started down the path to see. The girls stopped before her gate. At that moment there was a whoop, a scrambling in the road, and a boy and a bulldog appeared from around the nearest corner.

With unerring instinct the bulldog, true to his nature, came charging for the cat he saw in Agnes' arms.

Poor old Sandy-face came to life in a hurry. From a condition of calm repose, she leaped in a second of time to wild and vociferous activity. Matters were on a war basis instantly.

She uttered a single "Yow!" and leaped straight out of Agnes' arms to the bole of a maple tree standing just inside Mrs. Adams' fence. She forgot her kittens and everything else, and scrambled up the tree for dear life, while the bulldog, tongue hanging out, and his little red eyes all alight with excitement, leaped against the fence as though he, too, would scramble over it and up the tree.

[Ill.u.s.tration: She forgot her kittens and everything else, and scrambled up the tree for dear life.]

"Oh! that horrid dog! Take him away, you Sammy Pinkney!" cried Mrs.

Adams. "Come into the yard, girls!"

The gate was open, and the little girls ran in with the basket of kittens. Each kitten, in spite of its youth, was standing stiff-legged in the basket, its tiny back arched, its fur on end, and was "spitting" with all its might.