"Old Boze," said he, "what a long tongue you have. Why is it that dogs have such long tongues?"
Old Boze shifted his eves uneasily and looked the other way, but said nothing.
"Come, now," said the little boy, "I am sure there is a story about that long, red tongue of yours."
"To be sure there is," said a voice that came from just behind the boy's ear. He looked around and there was Old Klaws the House Cat.
"What do you know about it?" asked the little boy.
"Oh, I know all about it," answered the old cat. "But ask Old Boze," he went on with a grin, "perhaps he'll tell you."
Old Boze got up slowly and with dignity. "I am too tired to tell stories," said he, "but I'm not too tired to shake the foolishness out of a cat."
"Here now," said the little boy, "no quarreling and fighting. I won't have it. And Klaws shall tell me that story about your long, red tongue, if he will."
"To be sure I will," said Old Klaws, delighted to be able to tease Old Boze safely. Of course there was another time coming when little Luke might not be at hand, but then the old cat trusted to speed and sharp claws to put himself up a tree and out of the reach of the old hound.
"All right," said Old Boze, "if you're fond of the company of a sneaking, mouse-eating, old tabby. I'm not. I'll take myself off. But my memory is good," he added, glancing at Old Klaws with a snarl that showed all his sharp, white teeth.