THE Cat sat on the roof of the veranda, licking frosting off his coat. He always liked things to be neat, so he had a good deal of washing to do on his busy days. But the frosting was delicious—not at all like the paint. The sun was shining. Two or three birds sang, "Cheer-up, cheer-up," in a tree near by. It was on just such days that the Cat enjoyed sitting all alone by himself on the roof, quietly watching everything.
Yet somehow this afternoon he was worried. He remembered the face at the window last night, and the smell in the morning which
