“Speak a little louder while you’re about it,” snarled the old rat, who had started at the sound of her voice and listened anxiously to hear if there were danger of detection; and as he spoke he gave a very vicious grin that displayed his long yellow teeth, with one of the front ones broken.
“I haven’t time to sit for my portrait this morning,” resumed the old rat, as Mrs. Polly continued to gaze steadfastly at him. “You’ll know me the next time you see me, I hope!”
“I know you already,” said Mrs. Polly; “you’re Graywhisker.”
“Whew!” exclaimed the old rat, with another grin that showed the broken front tooth; “there’s nothing like being famous.”
“I’ve heard of you from my friend the barn-cat,” said Mrs. Polly. “She has known you a long time, she says, but you don’t care to become very intimate with her;” and Mrs. Polly gave a short laugh that was very irritating to Graywhisker’s nerves.
“The old fiend!” he exclaimed angrily; “of all the meddlesome old—”
“Don’t get excited,” said Mrs. Polly calmly.
“You’d better mind your own business,” answered the old rat, “or you’ll find yourself in trouble. The barn-cat and you are two very different individuals, and I shan’t stand on ceremony with you, I can assure you.”
“Do stand on ceremony with me,” said Mrs. Polly, with another laugh.
Graywhisker brought his teeth savagely together; but Mrs. Polly kept her cold gray eye on him in such a very unconcerned manner that he evidently thought better of his intention and resumed his search for food.