Then he poured a little turpentine around each of the four feet of the cat, where her paws were held fast in the varnish.
In a little while the varnish had softened, and Mr. Bobbsey could lift Snoop up and hand her to his wife. Then he took up the board, and washed from Snoop's paws what remained of the varnish. She was all right now, and purred happily as Flossie and Freddie took turns holding her.
"But the floor is spoiled—or that part is where you poured the turpentine," said Mrs. Bobbsey.
"The painter will varnish that part over when he comes in the morning," said Mr. Bobbsey. "Then we must keep Snoop out of the way until it dries."
And this was done. The floor was gone over again with the varnish brush, and the marks of Snoop's paws did not show. Nor did the cat again go into the parlor until the floor was hard and dry.
"Mother," asked Nan one day, about a week after Snoop had been stuck fast in the varnish, "may I have a little party?"
