About this time a couple of old disreputable tom-cats got up on the chimney and started a heated argument about something; also about this time I gave up trying to get to sleep, and went visiting to Jim's room. He was awake and fuming about the cats and their intolerable yowling. I asked him, mockingly, why he didn't climb out and drive them away. He was nettled, and said over-boldly that for two cents he would.
It was a rash remark, and was probably repented of before it was fairly out of his mouth. But it was too late—he was committed. I knew him; and I knew he would rather break his neck than back down, if I egged him on judiciously.
"Oh, of course you would! Who's doubting it?"
It galled him, and he burst out, with sharp irritation—
"Maybe you doubt it!"
"I? Oh no, I shouldn't think of such a thing. You are always doing wonderful things. With your mouth."
He was in a passion, now. He snatched on his yarn socks and began to raise the window, saying in a voice unsteady with anger—
"You think I dasn't—you do! Think what you blame please—I don't care what you think. I'll show you!"
The window made him rage; it wouldn't stay up. I said—
"Never mind, I'll hold it."