Part 3

"No," replied the Duck. "But you may go ashore for a little while if you wish. We don't sail for two hours."

"All right!" replied Puss, "I'll take a run on the grass," and he walked down the gang-plank across the old wharf, until he came to a path, well worn by the sailors who for years had carried the cargoes up to the little village. Under a tree close by sat an old sailor. He was smoking a big black pipe as contentedly as could be. But as soon as he saw Puss he took it out of his mouth.

"Ahoy, my breezy little reefer," he cried.

"Good morning," replied Puss.

"Don't be in a hurry," said the old sailor. "Just moor your little hulk alongside of old Tom."

"What's the matter, my breezy little skipper?" asked the old sailor after a few minutes silence, for, Puss, you see, didn't know what to say.

"Nothing," replied Puss, sadly, "only, I can't find my father, the famous Puss in Boots."

"What did he look like?" asked the old sailor, with a grin.

"He looked like me----or, rather, I look like him," replied Puss.

"Well, my merry little sandpiper!" cried the old salt, "you should have stayed at home!"

"I don't agree with you," said Puss stoutly, "I wanted to see the world."

"Give me your flipper," said the old sailor kindly. "Good luck to ye. I hope you find your daddy."

A NEW PASSENGER

PUSS, JUNIOR, waved his paw to the old sailor, who put his pipe back in his mouth and smoked away contentedly under the shady tree. All of a sudden a pretty little girl jumped out from behind a stone wall.

"Bobby Shafto's gone to sea, Silver buckles on his knee; He'll come back and marry me, Pretty Bobby Shafto. Bobby Shafto's fat and fair, Combing down his yellow hair; He's my love for aye and ere, Pretty Bobby Shafto."

"Hello," said Puss when she had finished her song.

"Did you just get off that pretty ship," she asked.

"Yes, Miss," replied Puss.

"Was Bobby Shafto on board?"

"I didn't see him," replied Puss. "Did you expect him?"

"I don't know," replied the little girl, "but I run down to look every time a ship comes to the old dock. And I always ask the old sailor who sits on the bench over there if he has seen my Bobby."

"You're looking for your Bobby, and I'm searching for my daddy," said Puss, sadly. And then he told the little girl how discouraged he was because in all his travels he had not yet found him.

And then, all of a sudden, they heard a voice calling, "All aboard!"

"Goodness!" exclaimed Puss, "I must hurry; the ship's going to sail. Good-by!" and off he ran to the dock as fast as he could.

"Wait for me," called out the little girl, "I guess I'll go, too. I may find Bobby Shafto."

"Hurry, hurry!" cried Puss, looking back. "I'll run ahead and ask the Captain to wait."

And it was lucky he did, for the gang-plank was being hauled in just as he arrived. "Wait for us!" he shouted.

"Why, I don't see anybody else," said the Captain, as Puss stepped aboard.

"Yes, there is," answered Puss, "There she comes!"

And in another minute, with her bonnet strings streaming in the wind, the little girl came running down the dock.

"Thank you for waiting," she cried, turning to the Captain. "I'd have been so disappointed if you had left me behind."

And then she stood close to Puss as the good ship left the dock. "Good luck, my little skipper," shouted the old sailor.

"Good-by," cried Puss, waving his cap to the old salt.

OVER THE WATER

WHEN the old dock and the gray-haired sailor, the tall church spire and the flag on the little red schoolhouse were out of sight, Puss, Junior, turned to the little girl and said: "Let's go down in the cabin. I'll show you the cutest little baby you ever saw. It's the 'rock-a-by, baby, upon-the-tree-top.' His mother always hung the cradle on a willow tree so that the breeze might rock him to sleep. But now the ocean does the rocking and baby sleeps almost all the time."

So the little girl followed Puss down the stairs to the cabin, where they heard a sweet voice singing:

"Over the water, and over the sea, And over the water to Charley. I'll have none of your horrid beef, Nor I'll have none of your barley: But I'll have some of your very best flour To make a white cake for my Charley."

"S-s-sh!" said the mother of the baby as Puss and the little girl came in.

"Are you going to make a cake with the flour the miller brought on board?" asked Puss in a whisper.

"Yes," said the baby's mother. "But what's your name?" turning to the little girl.

"She's looking for Bobby Shafto," answered Puss.

"What's your name, little girl," asked the rock-a-by-baby's mother.

"Alice," said the little girl.

"A pretty name."

"I'm glad you like it," said the little girl. "And what is yours?"

"Mine? Oh, you can call me 'The Rock-a-by Baby's Mother.'"

"Let's go out on deck," suggested Puss. "Won't you come, too?" he asked, turning to the baby's mother.

Rolling in the sea were huge black porpoises. Over and over they rolled like great footballs. Flying fish rose out of the water, and overhead the gulls sailed back and forth on their great wings. The breeze was blowing strong and steady, and now and then the salt spray came over the railing. Some of it wet Puss, Junior's, whiskers.

"Did you get wet?" asked Alice.

"Not much," said Puss. "Besides, I don't care for a little spray, anyway."

"Come over here and sit down on this coil of rope," said the Rock-a-By-Baby's Mother, and I'll sing you a song:

"Rock-a-by, rock-a-by on the deep blue, Sailor Boy, Mother is dreaming of you. Thinking of Sailor Boy out on the foam, Hoping that Sailor Boy soon will be home."

CUSTARD AND MUSTARD

FOR several days the good ship, with the four and twenty sailor mice and the duck captain, sailed over the big blue sea. Puss, Junior, learned to climb the mast and to run out to the very tip of the great boom to tie a rope for Captain Duck when it was blowing a gale. The Rock-a-By-Baby's Mother made a most delicious cake with the flour which the 'rusty, dusty' miller had sent on board, and altogether it was a most enjoyable trip, and when the good ship put into port on the fifth day everybody was sorry.

Even the little girl who was waiting for Bobby Shafto to come home told Puss she had forgotten all about him.

Well, as soon as the ship was fast to the dock, Puss said good-by to Captain Duck and the sailor mice.

"I hope Bobby Shafto will return soon," he whispered to the little girl as he kissed her good-by.

"I shall miss you very much," he said to the Rock-a-By-Baby's mother.

"Will you, my dear Puss?" she answered, giving him a hug. "You're a dear little cat! I hope you soon find your father. When you do, tell him he has a fine little son--tell him that from me, won't you?"

And after that Puss went upon his way, and by and by, after a while he found himself on a broad highway. "I wonder what will happen next?" he said to himself, and just then he came to a small house near the road. So he stopped at the front gate to listen to a sweet voice singing:

"When Jacky's a very good boy He shall have cakes and a custard; But when he does nothing but cry He shall have nothing but mustard."

Puss opened the gate and peeped through the window. In the centre of the room stood a small boy, wiping his eyes with a little pink handkerchief.

"Nothing but mustard," repeated his mother, "if you don't stop crying."

"Meow!" cried Puss at the window. "Won't you give me some custard?" And then, my goodness! didn't that little boy stop crying!

"Look at the cat with boots on!" he cried, running up to the window.

"You both shall have some custard," said Jack's mother, "and then you may go out to the swing and have a good time."

Well, it didn't take long to eat the custard, and then Jacky and Puss went out under the big tree.

"Swing high, swing low. Away we go, Up to the skies, Down to the ground; This is the finest Sport I've found,"

sang Puss, Junior.

"After supper, Jacky, I'll tell you how I was a sailor boy for almost a week on the ocean blue!"

ROWLEY FROG

NOW let me think what happened after Puss finished telling how he had been a sailor for a week on the ocean blue.

Oh yes, of course. He had scarcely said good-by to the little boy when whom should he meet but Mr. Rowley Frog and a big rat.

"So you're going to make a call on Mrs. Mousey," said Puss, as he and Mr. Rowley Frog and the rat reached the dusty highway.

"Yes, sir-ee," replied Mr. Rowley Frog. "She lives just over there." And when Puss looked across the meadow he saw a cute little house.

"Looks like a pretty nice little place," said the rat; "let's hurry along." So all three started off on a run.

When they came to the door of Mousey's hall, Heigh-ho, says Rowley. They gave a loud knock, and they gave a loud call. Pray, Mrs. Mouse, are you within? Heigh-ho, says Rowley! Oh, yes, kind sirs, I'm sitting to spin.

"I guess she's too busy," said Puss. "We'd better not interrupt her."

"Nonsense," replied Mr. Rowley Frog, bowing to Mrs. Mousey, who happened just then to look out of her little window. Then Mr. Rat took off his cap and said:

"Pray, Mrs. Mouse, will you give us some beer?" Heigh-ho, says Rowley. "For Froggy and I are fond of good cheer."

"Indeed, I will not," said Mrs. Mousey. "You ought to be ashamed of yourself! And as for Mr. Anthony Rowley, he must throw away that horrid cigar if he wants to call on me."

Well, goodness gracious! Didn't Mr. Rowley look ashamed! He threw his cigar away at once, and Mr. Rat hid behind Puss, he was so embarrassed, and as soon as Mrs. Mousey saw that they were both truly sorry for what they had done, she smiled and said:

"Pray, Mr. Frog, will you give us a song?" Heigh-ho, says Rowley. "But let it be something that's not very long." "Indeed, Mrs. Mouse," replied the Frog, Heigh-ho, says Rowley. "I've caught quite a cold, for it's damp in the bog." "Since you have caught cold, Mr. Frog," Mousey said, Heigh-ho, says Rowley. "I'll sing you a song that I have just made."

But first she opened the door and invited them in. "I'm not afraid of you," she said to Puss, "for I know you are Mr. Puss in Boots, Junior."

Well, just as soon as they were all seated, she began to sing:

"Mrs. Mousey has a housey, Very small and trim, Nice Swiss cheeses good for sneezes, Filled up to the brim. Also candy, fine and dandy, Ice cream soda, too, If you're nice to little mice, I'll give some to you."

"I'll see that my two small friends behave," said Puss, with a grin.

MRS. MOUSEY

"WHAT will you have?" Mrs. Mousey asked Puss, Junior, as she opened the cupboard door.

"I'll have a strawberry ice-cream soda," said Puss. So Mrs. Mousey poured some red syrup into the glass and dropped in a ball of ice cream, and after that she held the glass under a regular soda-fountain spigot which was fastened to a cute little ice-box. "Fiz-z-z, fiz-z-z!" went the water until the pink-colored foam almost ran over the edge of the glass. But it didn't. Wasn't that lucky?

"I'll take a pink and white peppermint stick," said Mr. Rowley Frog, and Mr. Rat said, "Cheese, if you please!" when Mrs. Mousey asked him what he would have.

"But while they were all a merry-making, Heigh-ho!" says Rowley. "A cat and her kittens came tumbling in."

And, oh dear me! Puss dropped his soda-water glass, and it broke all to smithereens. And then,

The cat she seized the rat by the crown: Heigh-ho! says Rowley. The kittens they pulled the little mouse down.

And after that the cat jumped through the open window with the rat and disappeared around the house, and the kittens ran out of the door with poor Mrs. Mouse.

Puss jumped through the window, but before he could catch them they ran into a hole just big enough for them to squeeze through, and Puss was left outside, wondering what to do. The old cat was nowhere to be seen. She had taken good care to get out of sight, for she knew that Puss, Junior, would take Mr. Rat away from her if he ever caught her.

"This put Mr. Frog in a terrible fright, Heigh-ho, says Rowley! He took up his hat, and he wished them good night."

"I'll go home to mother," he said when he reached the roadway. "I am getting homesick. I think the old pond is the best place for me."

"Home, sweet home, in the dear old pond, That is the place for me. I'll never go even a foot beyond, I'll sit there and croak, and never will smoke, In my pond by the grassy lea!"

"That's right," said Puss, as he hurried along with Rowley, who, now that he had made up his mind, could not get home fast enough.

"A wise frog stays in his bog, And sits and croaks upon his log."

A SAD ENDING

"I'M very sorry for poor little Mrs. Mousey," said Puss, as he and Mr. Rowley Frog hastened toward the pond.

"So am I," answered Rowley. "She was very generous with all her good things to eat."

"And the poor rat," continued Puss. "It was a sad ending to our little feast. I guess he's been eaten up by this time. That naughty old cat looked very hungry."

"Oh dear, oh dear," sobbed Rowley, the tears rolling down his face, "I want to get home. I'll never run away again."

"But as Froggy was crossing over a brook, Heigh-ho, says Rowley. A lily-white duck came and gobbled him up, So there was an end of one, two and three, Heigh-ho, says Rowley. The Rat, the Mouse and the little Frog-gee, With a rowley, powley, gammon and spinach, Heigh-ho, says Anthony Rowley!"

"This is dreadful," cried Puss, as he saw his small friend disappear down the duck's long neck; "it has been a sad day. All three of my little friends are gone."

"Never mind," cried the lily-white duck, looking up at Puss standing mournfully by the side of the brook, "Frogs are good to eat, and if they will run away from home, it's their own lookout. They should stay in their ponds and not go wandering about strange places."

Puss did not answer. It seemed pretty hard to meet such a sad fate, and he did not like the lily-white duck at all.

"Come, come," cried the duck, "cheer up, I'll ferry you across the brook if you wish to reach the other side."

"That's kind of you," said Puss, seating himself on her back.

"I'm not such a bad sort of duck," she continued, paddling swiftly toward the opposite bank, "but I must eat, and frogs are mighty good eating, let me tell you."

As she finished speaking she waddled up the bank, and Puss sprang nimbly from her back. "Thank you, Mrs. Duck," he said, "indeed, I'm obliged to you; but I wish you hadn't eaten my friend, the little frog."

Just then nine little yellow ducklings waddled toward them. "These are my children," said Mrs. Duck, very proudly.

"How are you, my little ducklets?" cried Puss.

"Quite well, thank you," they answered. It was a pretty sight to see those yellow balls of down cuddle up to their mother, and Puss began to feel that, after all, she must be a good sort of duck, for her children loved her so much. Perhaps he had judged her too harshly for gobbling up the frog, and when she turned to Puss and said:

"Come home with us, Mr. Puss," he forgave her for what she had done, and followed her downy, yellow brood.

BEAVER DAM

PUSS, JUNIOR, had gone but a short distance when he heard a sad voice say:

"Oh dear, I've lost my brother, Where will I ever find another? He never should have left the bog, Alas, Alas! poor Rowley Frog!"

"Dear me," cried Puss to Mrs. Duck and he looked about him for the owner of the sad croaky voice. Pretty soon he saw a big bullfrog in a brook.

"Come along with me," cried Puss, Junior.

Just then a little muskrat jumped out of the water and from behind a tree ran a pretty gray squirrel and a striped chipmunk.

"Did you call us?" they asked Puss all at once.

"No, my little friends," he replied, "but come along," and when they reached Beaver Dam, they looked around to see what had become of the old bullfrog. There he was in the water about halfway down the stream, swimming away for all he was worth.

"Ker-chunk, ker-chunk!" he cried, as he came up to them, "Why don't you wait for a fellow? And why didn't you tell me you were going up stream?"

Puss, Junior, felt very sorry to think that he had really forgotten all about the old bullfrog.

"Well, you got here all right, didn't you?" asked the muskrat. "Now," he continued, "I'm going to knock three times on the dam to let Mr. Beaver know that we would like to cross."

After giving three loud knocks, Mr. Beaver looked over and said: "What's the matter? Who are you? What do you want? Where did you come from? Where are you going?"

"We'll answer the last question first," said Puss, Junior, with a grin. "We'd like to cross over on your beautiful great big dam."

"The toll is a penny," said the beaver, looking them over carefully.

"I haven't got a penny with me," said the little squirrel, "but I have a dandy big nut, if that will do."

"All right," said the beaver, "give me the nut." He put it in his pocket, remarking as he did so, "it looks like a good nut. I only hope I shall not be disappointed when I crack it."

Turning to the chipmunk, he said, "What have you got?"

"A little acorn," answered the chipmunk.

"I don't want any more nuts," said the beaver, disgustedly. "I'm not particularly fond of nuts, anyway. I only took this one from the squirrel because I knew he didn't have anything else."

"Here are two pennies, Mr. Beaver--one for Chipmunk and one for me," said Puss, Junior.

"All right, Sir Cat," said the beaver, "walk across, but see that you do not slip, for the water is very deep on the upper side."

Puss carefully wended his way over, followed by the little squirrel and the chipmunk. The old frog swam over, as did the muskrat. When they all reached the other side, Puss went forward, followed by his small comrades, who stretched out behind him like a funny little army.

They hadn't gone very far, when a rabbit jumped out from behind a bush. Puss, Junior, called out, "Don't be frightened. We won't hurt you."

"Baby!" cried the squirrel, "you're bigger than I am, but you're twice as much afraid."

"I'm going to a wedding," said the rabbit. "I've no time to wait!" and away he went.

"Gracious me!" exclaimed the squirrel. "I had forgotten all about Cock Robin's wedding! I must be going."

"And so must I," cried the chipmunk and the beaver, but what the old bullfrog said I will tell you in the next story.

DUCKLINGS

WELL, you will certainly agree with me that the old bullfrog, in the last story, is a wonderful fellow when you hear what he says about Mrs. Duck, and, it is all in poetry, too.

"Old Mother Duck has hatched a brood Of ducklings, small and callow; Their little wings are short, their down Is mottled gray and yellow."

"There is a quiet little stream, That runs into the moat, Where tall green sedges spread their leaves And water lilies float."

"Close by the margin of the brook The old duck made her nest, Of straw, and leaves, and withered grass, And down from her own breast."

"And there she sat for four long weeks, In rainy days and fine, Until the ducklings all came out-- Four, five, six, seven, eight, nine."

"So this is your home," said Puss, Junior, as Mrs. Duck stepped into her nest, followed by her brood.

"One peeped out from beneath her wing, One scrambled on her back; "That's very rude," said old Mrs. Duck; "Get off! quack, quack, quack, quack!"

"What do you do when it rains?" asked Puss, Junior.

"What do we do when it rains?" repeated Mrs. Duck, "why, what do you suppose a duck's feathers are good for? They shed the water as well as a barn roof. Yes, even better, for feathers are water-proof and shingles are not."

"Well, my good Mrs. Duck, of course it's all right for you and your family, but should it rain, what would I do? I couldn't possibly crawl under your wings."

"Not very well," laughed Mrs. Duck.

"But it's not going to rain," cried one little duck, peering out from between her feathers. "I know it's not going to rain, for there isn't a cloud in the sky."

Then all the little ducklings poked their heads out and cried, "It's not going to rain, it's not going to rain!"

"If it should, and there's no telling lately, for the weather has been so unsettled, I could take you up to the barnyard and introduce you to Molly Head," said Mrs. Duck, turning to Puss, Junior. "She has charge of all the poultry and is a very kind woman, very kind indeed."

"If I knew where to buy an umbrella," said Puss, after a pause, "I wouldn't mind a little shower, but you know how a cat hates to get wet."

"Yes, they make as much fuss over a little water as a hen does," laughed good Mrs. Duck.

A LESSON IN WADDLING

PUSS, JUNIOR, was very tired with his journey, so he cuddled up in the long grass close to Mrs. Duck's nest and he was soon fast asleep. Then Mrs. Duck tucked in her yellow ducklings and they were soon dreaming of nice fat worms and little silver fishes. By and by Mrs. Duck closed first one eye and then the other, and pretty soon she was asleep.

The wind played little lullabys in the tall grass and the brook close by murmured over its pebbly bottom. The crickets in the meadow made sleepy little noises, so that it must have been over an hour before anybody woke up.

"'Tis close," said Mrs. Duck, shoving out The eggshells with her bill, "Besides, it never suits young ducks To keep them sitting still." So, rising from her nest, she said, "Now, children, look at me: A well bred duck should waddle so, From side to side--d'ye see?"

"I'll play duck too," said Puss, jumping to his feet and imitating Mrs. Duck. The ducklings looked at Puss in wonder.

"He'd make a fine duck," said one little duckling.

"If he had feathers instead of fur," laughed Mrs. Duck.

"If he had yellow stockings like ours," said another duckling, "instead of red-topped boots."

"Stop your quacking," cried Mrs. Duck. "Did you hear what I said about waddling just now?"

"Yes," said the little ones, and then She went on to explain: "A well bred duck turns in his toes As I do--try again."

Puss, Junior, turned in his toes exactly the way they did, which made them laugh; even Mrs. Duck chuckled. "Look out," she cried, "or Puss, Junior, will do it better than you."

"Thank you, ma'am," said Puss with a grin.

"Won't you try to do better?" said Mrs. Duck, turning to her brood with an anxious expression on her kind face.

"Yes," said the Ducklings, waddling on, "That's better," said their mother; "But well bred ducks walk in a row, Straight, one behind the other."

"I wish I had a drum," cried Puss, "I'd beat time. We could make believe we were soldiers." But Mrs. Duck did not answer. "Do your best," she said to her little brood.

"Yes," said the little ducks again, All waddling in a row. "Now to the pond," said old Mrs. Duck. Splash, splash! and in they go.