CHAPTER VIII
SALOME TO THE RESCUE
I don’t know what would have happened if no one had heard them, for the little kitchen kittens were very busy with the milk, and even if they had wanted to, they wouldn’t have known how to help. But a mother’s ears are sharp, and before they had mewed ten times Salome appeared at a trot, asking anxiously, “What have those tiresome children of mine done now?” She soon saw the danger they had got into. If they had been more of babies, she would have climbed up after them and brought them down in her mouth, but they were too big and heavy for that. All she could do was to sit at the bottom of the curtain and give them courage by mewing and telling them what to do. It was funny how quickly their confidence came back. Directly the kittens knew their own mother was there watching them and ready to help, they forgot to be afraid and in a few seconds they had scratched their way down the curtain and were safely on the ground.
Salome didn’t make a fuss or punish them for being so naughty and wild; all she did was to give their faces a lick and tell them not to do it again or they might hurt their claws or have a tumble.
The little kitchen cats looked on and they thought what a good mother Salome was, for not even their Jane could have been kinder. They had to own, too, that she was rather beautiful and so quiet and self-possessed. Besides, she behaved so well to them and instead of chasing them away because they were strangers, like Jane would have done, she took no notice of them at all. She did not even seem to mind when Pussy pretended to be her daughter and sat close up to her.
“We were wrong,” said Pet to Tompkins later. “I think your mother is an old dear.” And although Tompkins thought it might have been expressed differently, he was glad to hear it.