"
For the first time Mickey lost his temper.
"Now you looky here, Miss Chicken," he stormed. "I ain't saying what he
_can_ do, I'm saying what he _can't!_ See? You are mine, and I'm going to
keep you! He can lift me for all I care, but he can't carry you, nor rub
your feet, nor nothing; because he didn't find you, and you ain't his; and
I won't have it, not at all! Course he's a good boy, and he's a nice boy,
and you can play with him, and talk to him, I'll let you just be awful
nice to him, because it's polite that you should be, but when it comes to
carrying and rubbing, it's nix on Junior, because he's got no family and
doesn't understand. See?"
"Umhuh," taunted Peaches.
"Well, are you going to promise?" demanded Mickey.
"Maybe," she teased.
"Back you go and never see a cow at all if you don't promise," threatened
Mickey.
"Mickey, what's the matter with you?" cried Peaches suddenly. "What you
getting a tantrum yourself for? You ain't never had none before."
"That ain't no sign I ain't just busting full of them," said Mickey.
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