Page 21 - The Adventures of Puss in Boots, Jr.

"Leave that to me," said Mother Goose, with a lofty air. "Weathercocks only know of the breezes that blow;
they swing back and forth when the wind's from the north, the south, east or west--they are never at rest."

"More poetry from Mother Goose," sighed the weathercock. "If people must talk, why do they want to rhyme
it out? Let them talk in good old prose. It suits me best."

Mother Goose evidently did not hear his remarks, for she was busily feeding the gander. Puss was stretching
his legs by walking along the roof and watching some sparrows who were chirping under the eaves. Presently
she called Puss. "We are off again," she cried; "get aboard the goose-ship!" When they were comfortably
seated she turned to the weathercock and said: "This evening the sun will gild your comb and silver your
wings just before he goes behind yonder western hill. Good-by!"

The weathercock did not reply, and the gander did not wait, but flew away with his two passengers safely
sitting on his back.

TRIPPING WITH THE STARS

"Twinkle, twinkle, little star, How I wonder what you are! Up above the world so high, Like a diamond in the
sky."

Puss repeated this little rhyme to himself as he looked at a lovely star that shone in the heavens with a soft and
silvery light.

"I always liked that little song," said Mother Goose. "I've heard it time and again. Mothers always sing that to
their babies just before they go to sleep."

"Do they?" asked Puss. "Mine never did. She used to sing about little mice and birds."

Mother Goose laughed heartily. "It all depends on whose little baby you are," she said, "but I guess it all
comes out all right in the end."

The gander said never a word. He was doubtless too busy propelling his great wings and steering with his tail
to pay much attention to what his two passengers were saying.

I don't know whether there was a sign up like the ones they have in the cars, "Don't talk to the motorman," or
not. At any rate, the gander observed the law, for he made no answer. On and on they went, through the night.
Past cloud and star, over river and valley, hill and dale, swiftly and silently, for after these few remarks both
Mother Goose and Puss grew very sleepy.

It must have been well on toward morning before they awoke. Nestled on a soft, feathery gander's back, with
the wind singing lullabies as you travel swiftly underneath the stars, is quite sufficient to keep any one asleep.
It was indeed a mighty fine cradle, and if the morning sun had not poked his golden fingers into Puss, Jr.'s,
eyes he might still have been sound asleep.

"Mother Goose," he cried, touching the dear old lady gently on the shoulder, "we are getting very near the
earth. It's time for you to wake up."

"To be sure it is," she replied, rubbing her eyes and arranging her curls beneath her old peaked hat; "to be
sure, and, dearie me! I believe I have actually overslept!"

They were now close to the earth. The cocks were crowing lustily in the barn-yards, and every now and then
the bark of a dog, faint but clear, would come to their ears.