"Ah, ha!" howled the cat. "I am just in time I see. I haven't scratched any ears in ever and ever so long. And you have such nice, big ears, Uncle Wiggily, that it is a real pleasure to scratch them!"
"Do you mean it is a pleasure for me, or for you?" asked the bunny uncle, softly like.
"For me, of course!" meaouwed the cat. "Get ready now for the ear-scratching! Here I come!"
"Oh, please don't scratch my ears!" begged Uncle Wiggily. "Please don't!"
"Yes, I shall!" said the bad cat, stretching out his claws.
"Would you mind scratching my ears, instead of Uncle Wiggily's?" asked Jimmie. "I'll let you scratch mine all you want to."
"I don't want to," spoke the cat. "Your ears are so small that it is no pleasure for me to scratch them—none at all."
"It was very kind of you to offer your ears in place of mine," said Uncle Wiggily to the duck boy. "But I can't let you do that. Go on, bad cat, if you are going to scratch my ears, please do it and have it over with."
"All right!" snarled the cat. "I'll scratch your ears!" She was just going to do it, when Jimmie suddenly picked up a new flower, and holding it toward the cat cried:
"No, you can't scratch Uncle Wiggily's ears! This is a dog-tooth violet I have just picked, and if you harm Uncle Wiggily I'll make the dog-tooth violet bite you!"