"There was always food to be picked up around the farmyard when the men
were absent in the fields, the womenfolk busy in the kitchen, and the
boy somewhere out of sight. And it was food doubly sweet because it
had to be stolen from the fussy hens or the ridiculous ducks or the
stupid, complacent pigeons. Then there was always something
interesting to be done. It was fun to bully the pigeons and to give
sly, savage jabs to the half-grown chicks. It was delightful to steal
the bright tops of tin tomato cans--they _thought_ they were stealing
them, of course, because they could not imagine such fascinating things
being thrown away, even by those fool men--to snatch them hurriedly,
fly off with them to the tall green pine-top, and hide them in their
old nest till they got it looking quite like a rubbish dump, and good
pasture for a goat. And most of all, perhaps, was it fun to tease the
lazy old kitchen cat, till her tail would get as big as a bottle brush
with helpless indignation."

"The _cat_?" exclaimed the Babe. "Why, weren't they afraid of _her_?"

"Wait and see!" remarked Uncle Andy simply, with no apologies whatever
to the Prime Minister. "Well, as I was about to say, their method was
simple and effective. They would wait till they found the cat lying
along the narrow top of the rail fence, sunning herself. It was her
favorite place, though it can hardly have been comfortable, it was so
narrow. The He imp would alight on the rail, about ten feet in front
of her, and pretend to be very sick, squawking feebly and drooping his
black wings with a struggling flutter, as if it was all he could do to
keep his perch. The cat, her narrow eyes opening very wide, would
start to creep up to him. The She imp would then alight on the rail
behind her and nip her sharply by the tail, and go hopping clumsily off
down the rail. The cat would wheel with an angry _pfiff-ff_, and start