“Bow wow! Wow! Wow! Woppity-wop-wow!”
“Well, you’re making a lot of fuss!” exclaimed the boy, as he pushed his way through the bushes. “Have you caught something, Rover, old boy?”
“Bow wow! Yes!” answered the dog.
Then the boy came up to the trap.
“Ha! I have caught something!” he cried. “A squirrel, too! I thought I would if I piled up those nuts there, and hid the trap near them. Ha! I’ve caught a squirrel.”
“Oh, what a mean boy you are!” said Slicko to herself. “You set the trap on purpose to catch me! Oh, how mean!”
Now this boy was not mean exactly, or cruel, as you shall soon see. He was only thoughtless, as most boys are. He never really intended to hurt the little squirrel. Perhaps he thought the fur on a squirrel’s leg was so thick that the trap, springing shut, would not hurt. And, really, Slicko was not hurt such a terrible lot. But she felt badly enough, let me tell you.
“Yes, I have a squirrel!” the boy cried, and he seemed real glad of it. “Now I can take it home and tame it.”
Slicko did not know what “tame” meant, but she thought if it meant being caught by your leg in a trap, that she would not like it at all.
“Yes,” went on the boy, “I’ll take the squirrel home and tame it, and teach it tricks.”