“Didn’t he bite you back again?”
“No, and that makes me feel all the worse.”
“Oh, well, cheer up; it’s over now, and very likely you’ll never see him any more.”
“Yes, I will, though, for he’s a relation of mine.”
“But you’ll never bite him again after being so sorry for it—I’m sure of that—and that’s some comfort.”
“But I’m not sure, for I’ve done it before, and been sorry too. When anything doesn’t please me, all at once I get so mad that I hardly know what I’m about, and then I’m ready to bite my dearest friend.”
“Do you mean that you get crazy and lose your senses?”
“No, I only mean that I lose my temper. I’m sorry for it every time, but I go on losing it and biting my friends over and over again; and I’m discouraged about it, and don’t know what to do.”
“Well, if you haven’t got sense enough to stop it, right now and without any more whining, the sooner you go and give yourself up to the dog-catchers, the better.”