Page 39 - The Adventures of Puss in Boots, Jr.

To their utter astonishment they heard a shrill neigh close at hand, and, turning to see what manner of steed
had answered so quickly their wishes, they beheld two fine gray horses in the meadow close by. Leaning their
heads over the fence rail, the two animals gazed at them with expectant eyes.

"Why, they already have on their saddles and bridles!" cried the tinker, with amazement. "Are you a fairy cat?
Do your wishes always come true?"

"That is a nice question to answer," replied Puss, "but in this case, you can see for yourself."

"Well," said the tinker, "let us not refuse this stroke of good luck. I, for one, shall mount one of yonder
steeds."

[Illustration: "I GUESS YOU ARE RIGHT, MY GOOD SIR," SAID PUSS]

"And I will ride the other," cried Puss, nimbly springing over the fence. Thrusting his foot into the stirrup, he
sprang into the saddle and waited for his friend the tinker. Alas for the clumsy tinker! As he attempted to
mount, the bundle of old tins made such a rattle that both horses jumped in fright, and in another moment ran
off at a great rate. Puss clung tightly to the reins, and, on looking back, saw the bewildered tinker still
standing by the fence, while his horse careered across the meadow, kicking up his heels and snorting at a great
rate.

PUSS MEETS A HUNTER AND THEY BOTH LEARN THAT THE OWL IS A USEFUL BIRD

"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.