ing as
fierce about the head as an onion stuck full of needles; but she did not
draw forth her paw until she had, by carefully stretching it out as far
as possible, found that she could not reach the nest.

"Dear me, how you startled me, Mr Specklems," she said; "who ever would
have thought of seeing you there?" and then she began sneaking and
sidling up towards the bird, of course with the most innocent of
intentions; and though not in the slightest degree trusting Mrs Puss,
Specklems sat watching to see what she would do next.

"It's a nice morning, isn't it?" she continued mildly, but at the same
time drawing her wicked-looking red tongue over her thin lips as though
she thought Specklems would be nicer than the morning. "It's a nice
morning, isn't it? and how Do you do, my dear sir? You see I am taking
a ramble for my health. I find that I want fresh air; the heat of the
kitchen fire quite upsets me sometimes, and then I come out for a
stroll, and get up the trees just to hear the sweet warbling of the
songsters."

"Humph!" said Specklems to himself, "that's meant for a compliment to my
singing; but I know she's after no good."

"The kitchen was very, very hot this morning," continued Puss, "and so I
came out." And this was quite true, for the kitchen _was_ hot that
morning--too hot to hold Mrs Puss, for cook had run after her with the
fire-shovel for licking all the impression off one of the pats of
butter, just ready for the breakfast parlour, and leaving the marks of
her rough tongue all over the yellow dab, and hairs out of her whiskers
in the plate; and then when cook called her a thief, she stood licking
her lips at the other end of the kitchen, and looking so innocent, that
cook grew quite cross, caught up the shovel, and chased puss round the
kitchen, till at last the cat jumped up on cook's shoulder, scratched
off her cap, and leaped up to the open skylight and got away; while poor
cook was so frightened that she fell down upon the sandy floor in a
fainting fit, but knocked the milk-jug over upon the table as she went
down, which served to revive her, for the milk ran in a little rivulet
right into one of the poor woman's ears, filled it at once like a little
lake, and then flowed down her neck, underneath her gown, and completely
soaked her clean white muslin handkerchief. And so Mrs Puss found the
kitchen very hot that morning, and took a walk in the garden.

"Let me hear you sing again, sir," s