"Better keep away," said a small voice down inside of him.
"Pooh! Who's afraid!" said Chatterer. "This thing can't hurt me."
Then he crept a little farther in. Right in front of him was a little round doorway with a little wire door. Chatterer pushed the little door with his nose, and it opened a teeny, weeny bit. He drew back suspiciously. Then he tried it again, and this time pushed the little door a little farther open. He did this two or three times until finally he had his head quite inside, and there, right down below him, was that food he so wanted to taste.
"I can hop right down and get it and then hop right up again," thought Chatterer.
"Don't do it," said the small voice inside. "Corn is plenty good enough. Besides, it is time you were getting back to the Old Orchard."
"It won't take but a minute," said Chatterer, "and I really must know what that tastes like."
With that he jumped down. Snap! Chatterer looked up. The little wire door had closed. Old Mr. Trouble had got Chatterer at last. Yes, Sir, he certainly had got Chatterer this time. You see, he couldn't open that little wire door from the inside. He was in a trap—the wire rat-trap set by Farmer Brown's boy.