a clear, amber paint and made the floor almost as shiny
as glass, so it looked like new.

"There!" exclaimed the painter when he had finished. "Now don't walk on
the floor until morning. Then the varnish will be dry and hard, and you
won't stick fast. Don't any of you go in."

"We won't," promised the twins. Then they had to study their lessons for
school the next day, and, for a time, they forgot about the newly
varnished floor.

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 cover