ed a few minutes on the
housekeeper, for by that means, making the best use of her time, she
flew along the gallery, down the staircase, and jumping out of an
open window, was safely hidden among the shrubs in the garden, before
her enemy had descended the stairs. Poor Wishie! the pain in her tail
was terrible; and she dared not go to her mother, to tell her
misfortunes, for she knew that if she did, her mother would be sure to
cuff her soundly. So she lay still under the bushes, licking her tail,
and trying to forget her troubles as well as she could. Evening came
on; the sun was low in the heavens, and the little birds, that had set
out in the morning full of glee, came back merrily to their nests, and
made themselves comfortable for the night: it was clear they had had a
very happy day of it, though very likely not all they wished for.
Wishie sighed as she listened to their cheerful chirpings. By and bye
she began to feel very hungry, and she thought if she could find
Contenta, she could beg a bit of her supper, for, of course, nobody
else would give her any. So she crawled out of the bushes, and stole
into the court-yard. No one was about; all was quite still: she crept
along under the house till she reached the place where the cats'
supper was always put out for them on the top of a flat stone. Her
papa and mamma, and Contenta, had certainly finished their supper, but
they had remembered Wishie, and very good-naturedly left her some in
the dish; so that she really made a very good supper, better than she
deserved a great deal. Having accomplished this important point, she
thought, as all seemed so quiet, she might venture into the house.

The great door, which opened into the court-yard, had been left ajar,
so she crept in, and peeped into the hall. No one was there; it was
getting dusk: the old knights and ladies who hung against the walls of
the great hall, looked down upon her so gloomily, that she began to
wonder whether they meant to jump upon the floor and give her a
beating. However, they staid quietly in their black frames, and Wishie
crept on, and on, shaking all over for fear she should meet anybody,
till seeing the door of the baron's dining-hall wide open, she
ventured in. The room was empty; the baron's dinner had been over
hours ago; there seemed no fear of any one coming, so she grew bolder
and jumped upon one of the window-seats to consider what she should do
with herself all night. But before she h