Read Stuart Little for Free Online Page B

Snowbell’s
friend, “all I can say is, you’ve got more self-control than I have.”
    “Doubtless,” said Snowbell. “However,
I sometimes think I’ve got too much self-control for my own good. I’ve been
terribly nervous and upset lately, and I think it’s because I’m always holding
myself in.”
    The cats’ voices grew
louder, and they talked so loudly that they never heard a slight rustling in
the vine a few feet above their heads. It was a gray pigeon, who had been
asleep there and who had awakened at the sound of cats and begun to listen. “This
sounds like an interesting conversation,” said the pigeon to himself. “Maybe I’d
better stay around and see if I can learn something.”
    “Look here,” he heard the
Angora cat say to Snowbell, “I admit that a cat has a duty toward her own
people, and that under the circumstances it would be wrong for you to eat
Margalo. But I’m not a member of your family and there is nothing to stop me
from eating her, is there?”
    “Nothing that I can think of
offhand,” said Snowbell.
    “Then here I go,” said the Angora,
starting up the vine. The pigeon was wide awake by this time, ready to fly
away; but the voices down below continued.
    “Wait a minute,” said
Snowbell, “don’t be in such a hurry. I don’t think you’d better go in there
tonight.”
    “Why not?” asked the other
cat.
    “Well, for one thing, you’re
not supposed to enter our house. It’s unlawful entry, and you might get into
trouble.”
    “I won’t get into any
trouble,” said the Angora.
    “Please wait till tomorrow
night,” said
    Snowbell, firmly. “Mr. and
Mrs. Little will be going out tomorrow night, and you won’t be taking such a risk.
It’s for your own good I’m suggesting this.”
    “Oh, all right,” agreed the Angora.
“I guess I can wait. But tell me where I’ll find the bird, after I do get in.”
    “That’s simple,” said
Snowbell. “Climb this vine, enter George’s room through the open window, then
go downstairs and you’ll find the bird asleep in the Boston fern on the
bookcase.”
    “Easy enough,” said the Angora,
licking her chops. “I’m obliged to you, sir.”
    “Well, the old thing!”
whispered the pigeon to himself, and he flew away quickly to find a piece of
writing paper and a pencil. Snowbell said goodnight to his friend and climbed
up the vine and went in to bed.
    Next morning Margalo found a
note on the branch of her fern when she woke. It said:
    BEWARE OF A STRANGE CAT WHO
WILL
    COME BY NIGHT. It was signed A
WELL
    WISHER. She kept the note
under her wing all day long, wondering what she had better do, but she didn’t
dare show it to anyone—not even to Stuart. She couldn’t eat, she was so
frightened.
    “What had I better do?” she
kept saying to herself.
    Finally, just before dark,
she hopped up to an open window and without saying anything to anybody she flew
away. It was springtime, and she flew north, just as fast as she could fly,
because something inside her told her that north was the way for a bird to go
when spring comes to the land.
    XI. The Automobile
    For three days everybody
hunted all over the house for Margalo without finding so much as a feather.
    “I guess she had spring
fever,” said George. “A normal bird doesn’t stay indoors this kind of weather.”
    “Perhaps she has a husband
somewhere and has gone to meet him,” suggested Mr. Little.
    “She has not!” sobbed
Stuart, bitterly.
    “That’s just a lot of
nonsense.”
    “How do you know?” asked
George.
    “Because I asked her one
time,” cried
    Stuart. “She told me she was a
single bird.”
    Everybody questioned
Snowbell closely, but the cat insisted he knew nothing about Margalo’s disappearance.
“I don’t see why you have to make a pariah out of me just because that
disagreeable little chippy flew the coop,” said Snowbell, irritably.
    Stuart was heartbroken. He
had no appetite, refused food, and lost weight.
    Finally he decided