"Then
he did not strike me, or kill me."
"Well, that was nice of him," said her father, laughing. "And
what else?"
"Nothing else," said Pussy, whimpering.
"Well, then, the story had a good ending. The stick remained in the air,
and Pussy came back to the house like an 'artichoke.' Now we will drink
the health of the 'artichokes' and of Andrew the carpenter together."
The father raised his glass, and his companions did the same. When they
left the table, they were all rather sad; all except the father, who
took his newspaper, and lighted his cigar, as usual. Otto stayed in
another room in the corner, and thought how, when the children were all
allowed to go again to coast by moonlight, he would be obliged to remain
at home; for his mother would not now let him go, he was sure. Pussy
crept into her bedroom, nestled down in a corner by the bed upon a
footstool, took the red candy cock upon her lap, and felt very sadly at
the thought that she held it for the last time.
At the window her mother stood sadly thinking. She soon became agitated,
however, and moved uneasily about the room, and presently began to seek
for her little daughter in every corner. She found her at last, in her
hiding-place behind the bed, sunk in deep dejection.
"Pussy," said her mother, "I want you to tell me the story about the man
who threatened you.
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