"Where's your brother, Peetie?" asked Jimmie.
"Oh, he's gone to the store for mamma."
"Then let's you and I have a catch until he comes back. You can play ball, can't you?"
"Of course."
So Jimmie tossed the ball to Jackie, and the puppy dog stood up on his hind legs and caught it in his front paws, and then he fell right over, ker-thump, and rolled along the ground.
"Here!" cried the boy duck. "That's no way to play ball! You must stand up and catch."
"Oh, I know that," declared Jackie. "You see I was only practising at biting the ball with my teeth. I always bite things to sharpen my teeth so I can gnaw big bones when I get to be a big dog."
"Well, you needn't sharpen your teeth on my new ball!" cried Jimmie, and he felt a little angry; not much, you know, but a little and he took the ball and was going home, for he didn't like Jackie, he thought.
It was too bad the little creatures had had a falling-out so soon, but please wait just a moment and see what happens. No sooner had Jimmie started to go home—Jackie didn't know why, you see, for he didn't know it was wrong to bite the ball—no sooner, I say, did Jimmie start home, than out from the bushes jumped a great big water rat, with ugly, cruel, sharp teeth and wicked eyes.
Oh, how frightened Jimmie was, for he knew big water rats ate ducks. But what do you suppose Jackie, that puppy dog, did? Why he just growled away down in his throat, and he stuck up one ear as far as it would go, and he let the other ear fall down as far as it would fall, and he opened his mouth, and he showed his teeth, that he had sharpened on Jimmie's ball, and he jumped right at that bad rat! Yes, sir, right at him, growling all the while!