Ann was sitting on the deck quite weak with laughter, while the two mates, dressed in their stolen finery, paraded up and down in front of her. Prowler's pink pajamas were a better fit for him than Growler's paper collar which nearly concealed his pirate's nose, only the points of his whiskers and the tips of his black ears showing. Ann had added to his costume by the loan of her blue hair-ribbon which she had tied in a nice bow on the tip of his tail. But Prowler, if possible, looked even more silly than Growler, for he copied the actions of Captain Mittens as closely as he could, folding his paws on his chest and scowling gloomily about him. He seemed extremely vexed when the children laughed, but they really could not help it, since a pirate in pink pajamas is not particularly dreadful. At last, after much coaxing, Rudolf got the whole party to sit down in a circle on the deck and consult with him on some plan of action. "We _must_ make up our minds," said he firmly, "on where we are going, and what is the nearest land, and what we are going to do when we get there, and who is in command of the _Merry Mouser_, anyway, and--" Here he was interrupted by Prowler who said would he please go a little slower, for Rudolf was making his head ache and it reminded him of going to his aunt's to say his catechism. "The thing ter do," drawled Growler sleepily, "is ter do nothin' 'tall till ye git somewheres where somethin's gotter be did, an' then like's not it's too late ter do anything an' all yer trouble's saved for ye!" Rudolf did not think much of this as advice, but Prowler seemed delighted. "Hurrah, my hearties!" he shouted, and up he jumped, stood on his furry head on the deck, and waved his pink pajamaed legs in the air. "Now we can have our tea!" he cried. The faces of the three children brightened at the pleasant thought of tea, and when the tray arrived, carried by Towser, Ann asked if she might pour. "Paw away!" cried Prowler, grinning widely as he fixed his round yellow eyes on a small covered dish that Toddles had just set before him. Ann lifted the cover of the tea-pot to peep inside but as she sniffed the steam an expression of disgust wrinkled up her little nose. "Ugh!" she cried, "it's catnip tea." "Course it is," answered Prowler calmly. "Catnip tea and stewed mouses' tails--an' I asks what could anybody want nicer?" "Little girls that don't like what's put before 'em can go without. Ever hear anything like that before?" asked Growler sweetly, and as he spoke he reached over and took the covered dish away from Prowler and helped himself to it largely. "But we don't any of us like this kind of a tea!" cried Rudolf angrily.