"Now I'll go home with you," he said, "and see if it be true what you've been telling me, that you have far finer and better things of your own. But if you've been telling a pack of lies, Heaven help you, that's all I say."
"Now, you've got me into a fine scrape," said Peter to the Cat, "for here's the King coming home with me; but my home, that's not so easy to find, I think."
"Oh! never mind," said the Cat; "only do you drive after me as I run before."
So off they set; first Peter, who drove after his Cat, and then the King and all his court.
But when they had driven a good bit, they came to a great flock of fine sheep, that had wool so long it almost touched the ground.
"If you'll only say," said the Cat to the shepherd, "this flock of sheep belongs to Lord Peter, when the King asks you, I'll give you this silver spoon," which she had taken with her from the King's palace.
Yes, he was willing enough to do that. So when the King came up, he said to the lad who watched the sheep,—
"Well, I never saw so large and fine a flock of sheep in my life! Whose is it, my little lad?"
"Why," said the lad, "whose should it be but Lord Peter's?"
A little while after they came to a great, great herd of fine brindled kine, who were all so sleek the sun shone from them.
"If you'll only say," said the Cat to the neat-herd, "this herd is Lord Peter's, when the King asks you, I'll give you this silver ladle;" and the ladle too she had taken from the King's palace.
