"i don't understand," said old dog spot to miss kitty cat one day, "why mrs. green wants to keep you around the house when she can buy mousetraps at the village." old spot eyed miss kitty slyly. he dearly loved to watch her whiskers bristle and her tail grow big. and he could make both those things happen almost any time he wanted to.
if anybody wished to see miss kitty cat turn up her nose he had only to mention mousetraps. of all worthless junk she thought they were the worst.
"they can't catch any but the dull-witted mice," she used to say. "a mouse that knows anything won't go near a trap unless he's hungry. if he wants to go to a little trouble to get a piece of stale cheese he can usually spring the trap without getting caught in it—even if he has to use his tail to do it."
"but a mousetrap," spot objected, "is little or no care. one doesn't have to feed it except when he wants it to catch a mouse. and everybody knows that mrs. green feeds you several times a day. besides, the fewer mice you catch, the more food she has to waste on you."
"rubbish!" miss kitty cat sniffed. "you eat ten times as much as i do. and i never heard of your catching a mouse, either."
"ah!" said spot. "don't forget that i drive the cows and watch the house and the barns at night. and during my spare moments i hunt woodchucks. you couldn't expect a person of my importance to fritter away his valuable time catching mice. mousetraps couldn't do my work," old dog spot continued. "there never was a mousetrap made that could drive a cow."
"that's one reason why i don't like them," said miss kitty cat. "they're not only poor at catching mice, but they're useless at anything else. now, whenever i capture a mouse i always make matters as pleasant as possible for, him. i always play with him for as long a time as i can spare. but a trap just goes snap! a trap doesn't seem to want to make friends with anybody."
old dog spot laughed right in miss kitty's face.
"much you care for your friends the mice!" he chuckled. "and much they care for you! if you knew what they call you, you'd be pretty angry."
"what's that?" miss kitty demanded.
"i don't want to tell you," said spot. "i don't want to hurt your feelings." he knew (the rogue) that he could tease miss kitty more by leaving her to wonder what name the mice had for her.
much as she wanted to know it, miss kitty cat was too proud and haughty to ask him again. and, jumping up suddenly, she walked stiffly away.
"i shall have to find a mouse somewhere," she muttered under her breath. "i shall have to find a mouse somewhere and make him tell me what old spot won't."
