"Yes! yes!" said Mother Huldah, "a baby's feet should be always kept
warm--but, dear me, dear me, the Sweet One will need milk before long,
and the grain of the whole wheat to help her grow! I have no money to buy
her food."

Tommie looked very wise. "Mother Huldah," he said as he drew a black paw
knowingly over one ear, "don't you know that wherever a baby comes, help
comes? Open the linen chest and get your shining shears and begin to make
little shirts and dresses. I think I'll take a look at the weather."

He made the last remark carelessly like a young gentleman who will stroll
out and leave the women-folk to their devices.

"O Tommie!" said Mother Huldah, "you are not going to do anything
impulsive?"

"Mother Huldah," replied Tommie, "did you ever know a cat to do anything
impulsive unless he saw a bird, or a mouse?"

With that he left her, and she watched him walk away down the forest path
with the sunlight glistening on his coat and his tail held high and
straight. Sometimes he would pause and lift one foot daintily, the toes
curling in. Mother Huldah always said that Tommie heard not with his ears
but with his whiskers, and perhaps it was true.

Tommie himself was making his own plans as he went along. "If I tell
these villagers outright that Mother Huldah is in need, each person will
think, 'O well, Neighbor Jude, or Gossip Dorcas has more to spare than I.
Someone else will take care of the poor old lady, I am sure.' And it will
end in her getting nothing at all. I will not talk about her, but to each