I kept jumping
around with all my might to confuse it, so that it would not think about
biting, and I yelled so that the mice would not hear its squeaks and come
to its assistance. A man can't handle many mice at once to advantage.
Maria was white as a sheet when she came into the kitchen, and asked what
she should do--as though I could hold the mouse and plan a campaign at the
same time.
I told her to think of something, and she thought she would throw things at
the intruder; but as there was no earthly chance for her to hit the mouse,
while every shot took effect on me, I told her to stop, after she had tried
two flat-irons and the coal scuttle. She paused for breath, but I kept
bobbing around. Somehow I felt no inclination to sit down anywhere. "Oh,
Joshua," she cried, "I wish you had not killed the cat." Now, I submit that
the wish was born of the weakness of woman's intellect. How on earth did
she suppose a cat could get where that mouse was?--rather have the mouse
there alone, anyway, than to have a cat prowling around after it.
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