Then, too, she was very busy, for it was she who
was keeping her cross father, Old Jed Thumper, away from Peter, because
she was so sorry for Peter. But Peter didn't know this. If he had, I am
afraid that he would have been more in love than ever.
The harder she was to find, the more Peter wanted to find her. He spent
a great deal of time each day brushing his coat and making himself look
as fine as he could, and while he was doing it, he kept wishing over and
over again that something would happen so that he could show little Miss
Fuzzytail what a smart, brave fellow he really was.
But one day followed another, and Peter seemed no nearer than ever to
meeting little Miss Fuzzytail. He was thinking of this one morning and
was really growing very down-hearted, as he sat under a friendly
bramble-bush, when suddenly there was a sharp little scream of fright
from behind a little juniper-tree.
Somehow Peter knew whose voice that was, although he never had heard it
before. He sprang around the little juniper-tree, and what he saw filled
him with such rage that he didn't once stop to think of himself. There
was little Miss Fuzzytail in the clutches of Black Pussy, Farmer Brown's
cat, who often stole away from home to hunt in the Old Pasture. Like a
flash Peter sprang over Black Pussy, and as he did so he kicked with all
his might. The cat hadn't seen him coming, and the kick knocked her
right into the prickly juniper-tree. Of course she lost her grip on
little Miss Fuzzytail, who hadn't been hurt so much as frightened.
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