It was after supper that Flossie asked if Nan could not pop a little corn to eat.

“Yes,” answered Mother Bobbsey.  “A little popped corn will not be harmful, I think.  I’ll get the popper.”

Nan shelled some of the white kernels of corn into the wire popper, and shook it over the stove.  Pretty soon:  Pop!  Pop!  Poppity-pop-pop! was heard, and the small kernels burst into big ones, as white as snow.

Nan was just pouring the popped corn out into a dish when there sounded through the house a loud: 

“Meaou!”

“What’s that?” asked Flossie.

“It sounded like Snoop,” said Bert.

“It is Snoop!” declared Freddie.

“Meaou!” was cried again, and in such a queer way that the children knew their cat was in some kind of trouble.

“Snoop!  Where are you?” called Nan.

“Meaou!  Meaou!” came the answer.

“She’s down cellar and wants to come up,” Bert said.

But when the cellar door was opened no cat popped up, as Snoop always did if she happened to be shut down there.  Then they heard her crying voice again.

“Oh, I know where she is!” exclaimed Mother Bobbsey.

“Where?” asked the children.

“In the parlor—­on the newly varnished floor!  That’s what makes her voice sound so funny—­it’s the empty room.”

“Well, if Snoop is in the parlor she’s stuck fast!  That’s what’s the matter!” cried Bert.

“Oh! oh!” exclaimed Freddie.  “Our cat caught fast!”

“Poor Snoop!” wailed Flossie.

“We must help her!” Nan said.

The whole family hurried to the parlor.  There, in the light from the hall, they saw the cat.  Snoop was indeed in trouble.  She stood near the parlor door, all four feet held fast in the sticky varnish, which, when half dry, is stickier than the stickiest kind of fly-paper.

Snoop, in wandering about the house as she pleased, which she always did, had come to the parlor.  The door had been left open so the varnish would dry more quickly, and Snoop had gone in, not knowing anything about the sticky floor.

The big black cat had taken a few steps and then, her paws having become covered with the sticky varnish, she had become stuck fast, just far enough inside the room so she could not be reached from the door.

“Oh, will she have to stay stuck there forever?” asked Freddie.

“Pull her loose, Mother!” begged Flossie.

“If you step on the floor to get her, you’ll stick fast too,” warned Bert.

“Wait a minute, children,” said Mrs. Bobbsey.  “I must think what is best to do.  I wish your father were home.”

Snoop, seeing her friends near, must have known she would now be taken care of, for she stopped meaouing.

CHAPTER IX

NAN BAKES A CAKE

“Come on, Snoop!  Come on out!” called Flossie to the pet, black cat.