[The whitewash splashed out, and] lots of it [splattered on the tame tiger], so that he was splashed and speckled with spots of white as well as being marked with black and yellow stripes.
“Now how do you like yourself?” asked Squinty of Tamba, as he looked at the tame tiger in the moonlight, for the moon was just coming up. “If you try to bite me or any of my friends I’ll splash some more whitewash on you!”
“You can’t,” said Tamba. “There isn’t any more left in the pail. It’s empty; I can see for myself. I guess I got most of it on me.”
[The whitewash splashed out and splattered on the tame tiger]
“Well, if I can’t throw whitewash on you I’ll throw something else!” threatened Squinty. “You’ve got to leave us pigs alone!”
“Yes,” said Tamba, “I can see that I’d better. I didn’t know you were such a fierce chap, Squinty.”
“Well, I didn’t mean to be cross,” said the pig. “But when you talked of biting me, why, I just couldn’t help it. I’m sorry I spotted you with white like that.”