Part 2

"MERRY are the bells, and merry would they ring; Merry was myself, and merry could I sing; With a merry ding-dong, happy, gay, and free, And a merry sing-song, happy let us be.

"Merry have we met, and merry have we been, Merry let us part, and merry meet again; With our merry sing-song, happy, gay, and free, And a merry ding-dong, happy let us be."

"Whoa!" cried Puss, Junior, pulling in his Good Gray Horse.

"You've given me a lovely ride," said the pretty girl. "It is more than a mile from the mill. I live just over there," pointing to a cottage on the hillside.

"Shall I take you up to the gate?" asked Puss. "No, I'll get off here, thank you," she replied, "and I shall never forget how nice you've been. I was quite unhappy before you spoke to me at the old mill pond."

"Merry have we met, and merry have we been, Merry let us part, and merry meet again,"

said Puss, stretching out his paw.

"How well you remember my song!" said the pretty girl, waving her hand to Puss as he rode away.

He had gone but a short distance when he heard the clatter of hoofs. Looking back, he was startled to see a horse and wagon come tearing down the road.

"A runaway!" he exclaimed, quickly drawing to one side. In a few minutes the frightened horse rushed by. In the wagon was a little old man, clinging tightly to the reins and with great difficulty keeping his horse in the middle of the road. In an instant Puss set off in pursuit. Pretty soon his Good Gray Horse drew close to the wagon. "Don't give up!" cried Puss. "Hold on tight!" The little old man did his best, but by this time his horse had become unmanageable and, turning suddenly to the right, dashed up a steep bank. With a snap, the harness broke and away went the frightened animal.

"Let the pesky brute go," exclaimed the old man. "He'll get tired of running and come home by and by."

"You may have my horse," cried Puss. And in a few minutes the harness was mended and Puss and the little old man drove off down the road.

HUMPTY-BUMPTY

HUMPTY-BUMPTY, bump! went the wagon, as the Good Gray Horse trotted along. "Very poor springs on this wagon," cried Puss, his teeth knocking together as they crossed a rough bit of road.

"You are not used to farm wagons, my good Sir Cat," the little old man replied.

"You are right," said Puss.

"Did you ever hear the conundrum in rhyme about

"'Thirty white horses upon a red hill, Now they tramp, now they champ, Now they all stand still'?"

asked the little old man.

"No," replied Puss. "But who ever saw a red hill?"

"Ha, ha!" laughed the little old man, showing how very few teeth he had to chatter. "Why, the thirty white horses are your teeth, and the red hill is your gums. Ha, ha!"

"He, he!" laughed Puss. "Gid-ap, my Good Gray Horse. Let us rattle the thirty white horses upon a red hill, let them tramp and champ, but never stand still!" And away went the wagon clattering after the Gray Horse, bumpty-bumpty, bump!

"Hold on!" cried the little old man. "If I have but few teeth, I have old bones! Do you wish to shake me to bits?"

"Whoa!" cried Puss, but the Good Gray Horse evidently thought it great fun, for on he went at a still faster clip. The boards in the bottom of the wagon flew up and down and the wooden seat swayed back and forth. Up and down, bumpty-bumpty, bump! went the little old man.

"Pull him in!" he cried. "Pull on the lines! Don't let your horse run away!"

Puss tugged at the reins, but the Good Gray Horse had the bit between his teeth. He stuck out his head and tail and let his feet fly. Over the stones bumped the wagon, up on one side and then down on the other. Poor Puss had all he could do to keep from falling out, and the little old man clung to the side boards and cried, "Pull on the lines!"

"I am," panted Puss, "but it doesn't do any good."

"Pull harder!" yelled the little old man.

"Can't," replied Puss, now breathless from the bumping of the wagon. "Can't pull one little bit harder."

"Turn him in yonder lane!" screamed the little old man. "That's my lane! It leads into the barnyard."

Well, it was mighty lucky that Puss managed to turn up the lane, and in another moment they were racing into the yard, but before Puss could stop him the Good Gray Horse went head first into the haymow and headlong over the dashboard went Puss and the little old man.

THE HAYMOW

IT was a mighty lucky thing that the Good Gray Horse in the last story ran into the haymow instead of the corncrib. Well, as soon as Puss picked himself up the Good Gray Horse pulled his head out of the haymow. He had gone in quite deep, for he was going at a great rate, and it's a wonder he didn't go right through the great mound of hay.

"Whew! Miew!" cried Puss, pulling wisps of hay out of his hair and dusting off the tops of his red boots. "That was a pretty sudden stop!"

"Yes, but it turned out all right," said the little old man. "It was about the best way to stop your horse, methinks. It was lucky there was hay in the way, I should say."

"How could you be such a bad old thing?" asked Puss, stroking the Good Gray Horse on the nose. "The idea of your running away with us!"

The Good Gray Horse made no reply, however. He looked a little foolish, but, beyond that, he seemed very much the same, except that his collar was pushed up over his ears and his harness twisted about his neck.

"Well, put him in the stable," said the little old man. "We'll give him a good bed and some oats. My own horse may show up some time this evening--that is, if he ever gets tired of running."

After the Good Gray Horse was made comfortable the little old man led Puss, Junior, into the house.

"Mother," he called out, as he opened the door, "here is a visitor for you."

A queer little old woman arose from her rocking chair and came forward. "What! a cat!" she exclaimed, throwing up her hands in dismay. "John, you know I don't like cats!"

"Then, madam," said Puss, Junior, politely, "I'll not trespass on your hospitality," and he turned to leave.

"Not so, not so!" cried the little old man. "Mother, you don't understand what has happened. This noble cat has done me a good turn. My old mare ran away and he kindly hitched up his Good Gray Horse to my wagon and brought me home."

"Ah," said the little old man's wife, "that's another story. This cat is no ordinary cat. Let him make himself comfortable while I go and see about supper."

But Puss still hesitated.

"You are indeed welcome," said the little old woman, peering over her glasses to get a good look at him; "you shall stay and rest yourself, for you have helped my good man, and whoever does my man a good turn shall never go unrewarded."

CHAUFFEUR TAFFY

"HIGH-HO, how the winds blow!" exclaimed little Puss, Junior, as he rode along on his Good Gray Horse toward the castle of my Lord Carabas to see his dear father, Puss in Boots.

But New Mother Goose Land is a big country and Puss did not realize how long a journey it was. You see, he had been seeking adventures for so long and had traveled so far--sometimes on the back of his good friend, Goosey Goosey Gander, sometimes in the airship whose captain was a downy goose and the sailors four and twenty doves, and then, again, on broomsticks and umbrellas and baskets that flew in the air with their old women owners--that now, once more astride of his Good Gray Horse who had carried him many a mile in Old Mother Goose Land he felt he would soon be with his father.

Well, as Puss rode along he came to a bend in the road where an automobile stood. It had evidently broken down, for the chauffeur was tinkering with the machinery.

All of a sudden a blackbird perched herself on the fence along the road and began to sing:

"Taffy was a chauffeur, Taffy was a loafer, Taffy broke a tire everywhere he went. His master soon grew tired, Taffy he was fired; Taffy he was fired without another cent.

"Taffy came to master's house; master wasn't in. Taffy made an awful row, kicked up such a din. He blew on his auto horn, blew with all his might; Everyone but Taffy ran away in fright."

"Whoa there!" cried Puss, Junior, and the blackbird must have thought it was meant for her, for she stopped her song and looked at our small hero. And of course the Good Gray Horse stopped, and Taffy--well, he crawled out from under the automobile and scowled at the blackbird. And this made Puss, Junior, laugh, and the Good Gray Horse cough and the blackbird snicker, all of which made Taffy very red in the face.

"Tell-tale-tit, your tongue shall be slit," he cried, but the blackbird clapped her wings and flew away. And after that Puss, Junior, said gid-ap to his horse and rode off, leaving Taffy to finish mending his automobile. And after a little while the blackbird came back and settled herself on the head of the Good Gray Horse.

"Where are you going?" she said.

"To visit my father, Puss in Boots," replied our little hero.

THREE LITTLE KITTENS

THREE little kittens lost their mittens And they began to cry, "Oh, mother dear, we very much fear That we have lost our mittens."

"I'll help you find them," cried Puss, Junior, looking in through the door of a little green house.

"Will you?" said a little tabby cat.

"I think we lost them by the woodpile," said a little gray kitten.

"Perhaps we dropped them while playing hide and go seek," said a cute black kitty.

"Come on, my little pussyfoots," cried Puss, Junior, with a grin. "I'm pretty good at finding things--except people--I can't find my dear father."

"How did you lose him?" asked the first little kitty, as they all ran out into the back yard.

"I don't know any more than you know how you lost your mittens," replied Puss, Junior, with a laugh.

"If you find our mittens we'll help you find your father," cried the three little kittens. But, hunt as they might, no mittens were to be found. Under the woodpile and back of the old well, behind the woodshed and under the grape arbor, they hunted, but in vain.

"You naughty kittens! Lost your mittens! Then you shall have no pie!"

"Mee-ow, mee-ow, mee-ow."

"No, you shall have no pie."

"Mee-ow, mee-ow, mee-ow."

"Have you looked in the barn?" asked Puss.

"No," cried the three little kittens.

"Well, that's a good place to look if you've been playing there," suggested Puss. So they all ran out to the barn. But just as they entered the big door a little mouse scurried into a hole and a big gray rat ran into the corn bin.

"Look here, little mouse, if you'll tell us whether you've seen any mittens we won't hurt you," cried Puss. But the little mouse didn't reply.

"My dear Mr. Rat," said Puss, Junior, speaking into a crack of the corn bin, "if you'll tell us whether you have seen any mittens we'll promise not to touch you." But the rat didn't answer.

"They're afraid of you," said the little black kitty.

"Then you ask them," whispered Puss, Junior.

"Did you see our mittens?" whispered the black kitty to the little mouse.

"Yes," replied a squeaky voice. "I saw some mittens in the tool closet." Then the little black kitty ran over to the tool closet, and pretty soon he came dancing out on his two hind legs. "Here they are! Here they are!" he cried, with a happy purr.

MR. RAT

THE three little kittens found their mittens, And they began to cry, "Oh, mother dear, see here, see here! See, we have found our mittens."

"Thank you," said the black kitty, as the little mouse peeped out of her house, "thank you very much for telling us where our mittens were."

"We promise never to hurt you," cried the three little kittens.

Puss, Junior, walked over to the corn bin. "Look here, Mr. Rat," he said, in a gruff voice, "as long as you were so mean not to tell us where the mittens were, I won't promise not to catch you."

"You'd better wait till you get the chance," replied the rat, looking down from the top of the bin.

"Just wait till we grow up, Mr. Rat," said the three little kittens, looking very fierce with their whiskers standing out straight from their little fat cheeks and their tails twice their natural size. "You had better not be too sure of yourself.

"For many a rat who has spoken like that Has been caught when he least was aware. So you'd better look out what you are about, For we are three kittens who dare."

"That's the way to talk to him," said Puss, Junior, admiringly. "We'll scare him to death, anyway."

"No, you won't," said the rat. "You don't know who I am. I'm the rat 'that ate the malt that lay in the house that Jack built.'"

"Oh, you are, are you?" said Puss. "Well, what are you doing here?"

"Making a visit," replied the rat.

"Look out," advised Puss, "or you may not find it a pleasant one."

"Nonsense!" replied the rat with a loud laugh. "Who's afraid of three little kittens? They can't even find their mittens." Before he had time to say another word Puss, Junior, sprang on top of the corn bin. Away went the rat, over the barn floor, out through the open door, down the path to the road. Puss, Junior, kicked off his red-topped boots and went after him.

"Go it, Puss, dear!" screamed three little kittens. "Catch him!"

The ground was covered with a light fall of snow, but this made no difference to Puss, Junior. He was a big, strong, healthy cat, and he didn't mind running barefoot in the snow. This was not the case with Mr. Rat, however. Very soon his feet became so cold that he could hardly run, and before he reached the gate Puss pounced upon him.

"Look here," said Puss, fiercely, holding him down on the frozen ground--"look here, Mr. Rat, we don't want you around here any longer. Do you understand?"

"I'll promise to go back to Jack's house if you'll let me up."

"All right," said Puss. "Now go!" And away went the frightened rat.

A BIG TUMBLE

"PUT on your mittens, you silly kittens, And you shall have some pie. Purr-r, purr-r, purr-r." "Oh, let us have the pie, Purr-r, purr-r, purr-r."

Mrs. Cat stood in the doorway of her little house and again she called out, "Put on your mittens, you silly kittens."

"And I'll pull on my boots," said Puss, Junior, running back to the barn. "My toes are almost frozen."

"Has the horrid old rat really gone?" asked the three little kittens.

"He has," replied Puss. "Didn't you see me catch him just before he reached the gate?"

"There was so much snow flying about that we couldn't see very well," said the gray kitten.

"Well, I caught him, all right," replied Puss, pulling on his boots, "but he begged me so hard to let him go that I did. He promised he'd never come back."

"If he really is the 'rat that ate the malt that lay in the house that Jack built' I don't believe Jack will be very glad to see him," said the little tabby cat, pulling on her mittens.

"My paws are almost frozen," cried the little gray kitten. "I'm so glad we have found our mittens."

"Good-by, mousie," cried the little black kitten, going up to the mouse hole and peeping in. "We all thank you very much for telling us where our mittens were. We're going into the house now, for mother has some pie for us. We'll bring you out a little piece of crust in a few minutes."

"Don't forget!" she answered, peeping out of her hole. "Bring us three pieces, for I have two little children who are very fond of pie crust."

"You be sure to save a little piece of crust," said the black kitty to the tabby kit, "and you, too," he said, turning to the gray kitten; "then we'll have three pieces!"

"Let's close the barn door," said Puss, before they started off for the house. "The little mouse may freeze if we leave it open."

It was a very big barn door that ran on little iron wheels, and it wasn't easy to move. "Push!" cried Puss, bracing his feet against the side of the barn.

"We can't push any harder," cried the three little kittens.

"Try again," said Puss. "Now, all together, heave ho, heave ho!" The big door began to move. "Push!" cried Puss. "It's beginning to move."

The three little kittens did their best, and pretty soon the little wheels went round and round, faster and faster, until all of a sudden the big door bumped into the other end of the doorway, sending Puss, Junior, and the three little kittens head over heels into the snow.

HUNGRY KITTENS

"GOODNESS, what a bump!" cried the little black kitty, wiping the snow from his eyes.

"Gracious! what a bump!" said Puss, scrambling up from the ground. "I think I felt it more than the old barn door, for I was underneath, you see, and you were piled on top of me."

The three little kittens felt very sorry and commenced to brush the snowflakes from his fur coat. "There's snow in your boot legs," said the little gray kitten, standing on tiptoe and looking down Puss, Junior's, boots. "Don't you feel it? I should think it would make you shiver."

"I'll soon find out," said Puss, pulling them off and turning them upside down.

"Are they wet inside?" asked the tabby kitten, anxiously.

"Not very," said Puss, squinting up one eye and peering in.

"If they are," said the little black kitten, "mother will dry them for you at the fire."

Then:

The three little kittens put on their mittens, And soon ate up the pie. "Oh, mother dear, we greatly fear That we have soiled our mittens."

While Puss was busy placing his boots before the kitchen stove the three little kittens seated themselves at the table.

"Why don't you take off your mittens?" Puss asked. "I guess you're so hungry you can't wait," he added with a laugh.

It took but a short time for his boots to dry, for there was a big, blazing fire in the stove.

"Don't you want something to eat?" asked Mrs. Cat, coming over to Puss. "You have very pretty boots," she continued, lifting up one and looking at it with much admiration.

"Yes, they are nice boots," said Puss, Junior. "They were made for my famous father, Puss in Boots. Mr. Solomon Grundy, who was born on a Monday, made them years ago for my father. And one day, it was only last week, when I stopped at his store, I saw a notice in his window that he had died on Saturday and was buried on Sunday, and that was the end of Solomon Grundy."

"Too bad," said Mrs. Cat.

"When I went into the store," continued Puss, "Mrs. Grundy took them down from a shelf and sold them to me. Then she went across the street to ask an old friend where my father lived, but she couldn't find out--her friend didn't know or couldn't remember--so here I am, still searching for my daddy."

"Too bad," said Mrs. Cat again. "I'm really very sorry. But do not give up hope, for you will find him I am sure."

KITTENS WASH MITTENS

AFTER Mrs. Cat had powdered Puss, Junior's, toes so that they would slip easily into his boots she turned to see what the three little kittens were doing. They had just finished eating the pie. She had been so interested in hearing how Puss, Junior, had found his red-top boots that she hadn't heard them say:

"Oh, mother dear, we greatly fear That we have soiled our mittens."

"What!" exclaimed Mrs. Cat. "Soiled your mittens, you naughty kittens!"

Then they began to sigh, "Mi-ow, mi-ow, mi-ow." Then they began to sigh, "Mi-ow, mi-ow, mi-ow."

"Take them off at once," cried Mrs. Cat.

"We will, mother," said the three little kittens.

"I can't imagine why you kept them on," said Mrs. Cat.

"We were so hungry we didn't have time to take them off," said the little black kitten.

"My fingers were so cold I thought I'd leave them on," cried the tabby kitten.

"I didn't think about anything," sobbed the little gray kitten. "I just looked at the pie, and then I forgot I had on mittens."

Mrs. Cat stood with her front paws on her hips, looking first from one little kitten to another.

"Did you ever see anything like children?" she sighed, turning to Puss, Junior.

"My dear madam, forgive them this once. They were so excited over finding the pie that they lost their heads."

"It's a good thing they are tied on," said Mrs. Cat, with a laugh; "they might not be found as easily as the mittens."

The three little kittens looked very much ashamed. Then the little black kitten ran over to the washtubs and, jumping on a stool, turned the hot-water faucet. His mother handed him a big cake of soap, and in another minute the other two little kittens climbed up beside him.

"What are you going to do?" asked Mrs. Cat, with a sly wink at Puss, Junior.

"Never mind, mother, dear. Please don't look." And they commenced to scrub their mittens. And when they had them all covered with lather they dipped them into the water and squeezed them until the soapsuds looked like a snow drift, and after that they all reached down and pulled out the stopper, and when the soapy water was all gone they filled the tub again with nice, clean water and washed the mittens all over again. But, oh, dear me! the water was so deep that the little gray kitten wet her little pink sleeve.

PIE FOR MRS. MOUSE

THE three little kittens washed their mittens And hung them up to dry. "Oh, mother dear, do you not hear That we have washed our mittens?"

Sure enough, all the mittens were washed and neatly hung on the clothesline. But the clothesline was so high that Puss had been forced to climb a stepladder. The kittens had stood below, their little paws full of clothespins, and every time Puss needed a pin one of them had climbed up and handed it to him.

"Washed your mittens! Oh, you're good kittens. But I smell a rat close by. Hush! Hush! mee-ow, mee-ow. We smell a rat close by, Mee-ow, mee-ow, mee-ow!"

cried Mrs. Cat.

When Puss heard this he ran around the house. I guess he expected to find the "rat that ate the malt that lay in the house that Jack built." But Mrs. Cat had made a mistake, for there was no rat to be seen. Instead, there stood the little mouse who two or three stories ago had told the black kitty where to find their mittens.

"What do you want?" asked Puss, Junior, kindly.

"I think the three little kittens have forgotten their promise to give me three pieces of pie. I've been waiting in the barn all this time."

"Kittens!" cried Puss.

The three little kittens came tumbling around the house. But the little mouse ran behind a tree.

"Did you forget to save some pie crust for the little mouse and her two children?" asked Puss.

"Of course not!" replied the three kittens.

"I tucked a little piece under my plate," said the gray kitten.

"I put a little piece in the old clock," said the tabby kitten.

"And I put mine behind the big shell on the mantelpiece," cried the black kitty.

"Go and get them," said Puss, "for Mrs. Mouse can't be kept waiting; her babies out in the barn will be crying for her."

The three little kittens ran into the house, and pretty soon returned with the pie crust.

"We'll carry it out to the barn for you," they cried.

So the little mouse ran ahead, and when she was safe in the barn she waited until the kittens had placed the three little pieces of pie crust on the floor. As soon as they had gone the little mouse came out and carried the pie crust into her house.

SING A SONG OF SIXPENCE

SING a song of sixpence, A pocketful of rye, Four and twenty blackbirds Baked in a pie.

When the pie was opened The birds began to sing. Wasn't that a dainty dish To set before the king?

Well, when little Puss, Junior, heard those blackbirds singing he halted before the castle and knocked on the gate.

"You must have a thousand canaries."