“Oh, that's enough to do to him,” pleaded little Mamie.
“No, it isn't,” said Jim. “He ate up the rabbits.”
“Maybe he didn't eat the rabbits,” urged tender-hearted Mamie.
“No, he didn't eat the rabbits. A weasel did that,” said Nannie, her awful gaze still fixed on Mr. Earnest's laughing eyes. “But he had been ugly to his family, and that's the worst, the meanest thing a man—a cat can do, and Providence caught him in a trap to punish him.”
“What else was done to him?” persisted Jim.
“He was hung,” said Nannie, and she almost smacked her lips with savage relish.
“Oh!” said Jim, and he condescended to enter the parlor and plant himself in front of Nannie. “Then what else was done with him?” reiterated this young avenging fury.
“I don't like this story,” said Mamie.
“I do!” said Jim. “It's most bester than Indians.”
Nannie was going to say that was all, but just then she caught sight of those mocking eyes again, and in a sudden fury she added: