PUSS MEETS A HUNTER AND THEY BOTH LEARN THAT THE OWL IS A USEFUL BIRD
Reading edition
WELL, that was a clumsy tinker," said Puss to himself, as he guided his good gray horse into the highway. "But I suppose he is no rider, and therefore is safer upon his own two legs. At any rate, I cannot stop to inquire, nor would I be of any assistance. So I shall ride away, thankful at my good luck in having a steed for a mere wish. As wishes are horses, pussy-cats may ride," he said, with a laugh.
The gray horse proved a good roadster and covered many a mile before midday. Presently, on coming to a crossway, Puss decided to take the road that led through the woods. He had hardly entered when he saw a funny little man dressed like a huntsman. In his right hand he carried a bow and on his back was a quiver full of arrows.
A small dog ran along at his heels, snuffing about continually, as if expecting to find a rabbit or a squirrel. Before Puss had gone much farther, the funny little huntsman paused under a large tree, from a hole in which an old owl looked out, winking and blinking his eyes.
There was an owl lived in an oak, Whiskey, Whaskey, Weedle; And all the words he ever spoke Were Fiddle, Faddle, Feedle. A sportsman chanced to come that way, Whiskey, Whaskey, Weedle; Said he, "I'll shoot you, silly bird!" So Fiddle, Faddle, Feedle.
"Bow-wow!" yelped the little dog, suddenly catching sight of the old owl.
"There now, you've gone and done it!" cried the funny little hunter, as the owl quickly drew in his head. "You're a fine hunting-dog, you are!"
The little dog hung his tail and walked away. In another moment, on catching sight of Puss on his big gray horse, he set up another wild barking.
"What's the matter now?" inquired the little huntsman. "Oh, it's you, is it?" he exclaimed, suddenly seeing Puss.
"Your little dog is a better watchman than a hunter," said Puss, with a grin; "that is, he's a good old scout."
"Well, I'm glad to find out he's good for something," said the little hunter, "for he made me just now lose a good shot at an old owl that has been hooting and tooting around my house for many nights. I would have liked to put an arrow through his old head."
"You would, eh?" screamed the owl, suddenly poking his head through the hole. "Let me tell you, my good sir, that I have caught more rats and mice in your old barn than your cat has. Is this the way that you repay a useful friend like me?"
The little hunter dropped his bow. "I never thought of that," he said, apologetically.
"Well, next time think before you shoot," cried the owl; "it may save you many a miss!"