CHAPTER III
MINETTE FINDS THE KITCHEN
One day Minette smelt a nice fishy smell. It tempted her out of the room, down a passage and round a corner till she arrived at the kitchen. Here she came face to face with a strange cat. The cook was just making fish cakes, and Tibby the kitchen cat was asking for some with loud miaous. Minette was very alarmed at first, she thought this strange cat might scratch her, but Tibby was much too busy to take any notice of a little kitten and kept miaouing and staring up at the fish. Minette thought she would rather like to try a little, it certainly smelt very tempting. At last a scrap fell on the floor. Of course Minette rushed at it. But, oh, dear! how she wished she hadn’t! There was such a noise; Tibby flew at her with a nasty spiteful swear, growled at her, snatched the fish away and ate it up herself. Poor Minette felt so hurt and surprised, it wasn’t a bit how her dignified mother would have behaved.
Tibby was much too busy to take any notice of a little kitten.
The cook was not at all nice either, for instead of pitying Minette and giving her a tit-bit of fish as Mary would have done, she said, “Get out of my way,” and shooed her out of the kitchen.
It was a very subdued and sad little kitten that trotted back round the corner and along the passage, and to tell the truth, Minette was not at all sorry to get back to her own cosy little basket and home where no one was unkind to her.
Still though not very successful, this had been an adventure and Minette pretended to Tompkins she had had a perfectly lovely time.
“This is a dull old room,” she told him, “the kitchen is much finer. It is beautifully warm for there is a great big fire, and there are heaps of saucers and plates, and such delicious smells.”
“Did you get anything to eat?” asked Tompkins.
“Well, just a taste of fish,” Minette replied, enjoying the envious look on Tompkins’ face.
“Did you see any one there?” he asked next.
“Yes, a very grand cat, so beautiful and sleek, she was very kind to me and asked me to come again.” (Oh, Minette! what terrible stories!)
Poor Tompkins was so jealous he could have cried, and when Minette sat purring in the basket with such a superior look on her face, he felt he could have scratched her.
“Never mind,” he told himself, “it will be my turn next.”