He was actuated by the kindest motives¹, but he heartily² wished his errand were done. As he stepped into the kitchen he heard the deep breathing of Mrs. Wilson and the noisy snore of her husband, and rightly judged that it would not be easy to rouse either of them. He opened the pantry door, and by the light of the moon was able to inspect the shelves. There was a half loaf of bread on one shelf, half a dozen doughnuts on a plate on the shelf below, and a few cold beans close beside them. Then there was a small pitcher³ half-full of milk.

 

"I don't think the beans or doughnuts will set well on an empty stomach," Bert reflected.147 "I'd better take the milk and two or three slices of bread."

 

Here the cat, who had been asleep on the hearth⁴, roused herself, perhaps at the sight of the milk pitcher, and, mewing loudly, rubbed herself against Bert's legs.

 

"Scat!" cried Bert, in a low voice, anxiously looking toward the door of the bed chamber⁵ in which the farmer and his wife lay asleep.

 

The cat got between his legs and nearly tripped him up, but he managed to get out of the room and upstairs. Phineas looked at him eagerly.

 

"I have some bread and milk here," said Bert. "I couldn't find any butter. There were some cold beans and doughnuts, but—"

 

"The bread and milk are better. Give them to me. I am almost famished⁶."

 

The bread was dry and stale, but Phineas was not in the mood to be particular. He ate like one famished, and drained the pitcher to the last drop.

 

"I feel better," he said then, with a sigh of relief.

 

"I suppose I had better take the pitcher back to the kitchen. It will be missed," reflected Bert, and he started downstairs again in his bare feet. He paused at the kitchen148 door, and heard the farmer talking in his sleep. This alarmed him. He

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