But, fast as she spun, Dame Betsy, when she returned,
discovered that she had been idling, and said that she must go without
her supper. Poor Dorothy could not help weeping as she twirled the
wheel, she was so hungry, and the honey-cake had been very small.
Dame Betsy dished up the stew and put the spoons and bowls on the table,
and soon the five absent daughters came home, rustling their flounces
and flirting their parasols.
They all sat down to the table and began to eat, while Dorothy stood at
her wheel and sadly spun.
They had eaten all the stew except a little, just about enough for a
cat, when a little shadow fell across the floor.
"Why, who's coming?" whispered Dame Betsy, and directly all the
daughters began to smooth their front hair; each thought it might be a
suitor.
But everything that they could see entering the door was a beautiful
gray cat. She came stepping across the floor with a dainty, velvet
tread. She had a tail like a plume, and she trailed it on the floor as
she walked; her fur was very soft and long, and caught the light like
silver; she had delicate tufted ears, and her shining eyes were like
yellow jewels.
"It's nothing but a cat!" cried the daughters in disgust, and Dame Betsy
arose to get the broom; she hated cats. That decided the daughters; they
also hated cats, but they liked to oppose their mother. So they insisted
on keeping the cat.
Pages:
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83