The weeds and grass crowded up around the very threshold of the old gray log cabin.
"The Little Sly One stopped short, blinking in the strong light and sniffing cautiously.

There was no smell of danger--none whatever, but a scent came to her nose that she thought was quite the nicest scent in the world.
"Where did it come from?
Oh, there is was--that bunch of dull-green weeds! Forgetting prudence, forgetting everything, she ran forward and began rolling herself over and over in ecstasy in the bed of strong-smelling weeds." "Catnip!" suggested the Babe.
"Of course!" agreed Uncle Andy impatiently.

"What else _could_ it be?
"The Little Sly One had never heard tell of catnip, but she knew right off it was something good for every kind of cat.

When she had had _quite_ enough of it, she felt kind of light and silly, and not afraid of anything.

So, as bold as you please, she marched right up to the cabin.
"The door was shut.