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Tale of Miss Kitty Cat

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<h2>XVII</h2> <h3>THE EAVESDROPPER</h3> For anybody that was so faint, Moses Mouse ran to the box of potatoes very spryly. His wife was already inside it, eating. "I'll have my supper first," he announced, "while you stay outside on the cellar bottom and watch for Miss Snooper." "I'm just as hungry as you are," his wife objected. "I don't want to wait. You know you'll be a long time at your supper." What she really meant was that Moses Mouse would be sure to overeat. "Very well!" he said. "But don't blame me if Miss Snooper sneaks up on us." Thereupon Moses Mouse fell to right greedily. Although there were delicacies that he liked more than raw potatoes, he was hungry enough to enjoy them—and not even ask for salt. And his wife, too, ate almost as heartily as he did. The pale moonlight, streaming through the cellar window, lighted their banquet hall with its ghostly gleams. They enjoyed the cool dampness of the place. They liked its musty smell. And Moses Mouse remarked—between mouthfuls—that they hadn't had such an elegant feast for weeks. "It's quite like old times," he said. Mrs. Mouse agreed with him. Indeed, they relished their meal so thoroughly that they forgot everything else. And if Moses Mouse hadn't happened to glance up and see two eyes gleaming at him from over the edge of the box he would have had no reason for leaving his meal unfinished. At the moment, his mouth was crammed so full of raw potato that he could scarcely say a word. "Miss Snooper!" he gasped, all but choking over the words. And he vanished in a twinkling, hoping, of course, that Mrs. Mouse would take the hint and disappear too, but not waiting to see whether she managed to get away safely. A second later Miss Kitty Cat sprang into the box. She reached out a paw and grabbed at what looked like Mrs. Mouse. But to her great disgust she found her claws clutching nothing more interesting than a small potato, with a little knob at one end that looked not unlike a head. Miss Kitty Cat let go of her prize with a mew of disappointment. She knew that by that time Mr. and Mrs. Mouse had made their escape. And Miss Kitty soon learned how they slipped away. In one corner of the box she found a tiny hole. "Here's where they went!" she exclaimed. "I don't see how I missed seeing it when I first came sniffing around this box." Though she had lost a midnight supper, Miss Kitty did not feel too sad. She was too angry for that. "At last," she cried, "I've found out what old dog Spot wouldn't tell me. The mice are calling me 'Miss Snooper' behind my back!" In the morning, when Miss Kitty met old dog Spot in the woodshed, she was still feeling peevish. "What are you doing in here?" she snapped. "Oh, I'm just snooping around to see what I can find for my breakfast," he told her with a grin. Miss Kitty Cat bared her teeth in a snarl. "Snooping!" she cried. "You'd better be careful what you say to me! I heard some mice talking last night." "Ah!" said old Spot. "Now you know that listeners seldom hear anything good about themselves." Then he decided, suddenly, that he would look elsewhere for his breakfast. For Miss Kitty Cat was in a terrible temper. <hr class="chapter" /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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