gotta pitcher-book, like the one I seen you reading one day, that, an'
something to chew'll keep my mind off my leg, and when it's all right
again, I'll come past and smash you into bait for eels."

That didn't seem quite what I wanted, but I told Mr. Taylor the boy was
hurt and I couldn't fight, and he said "Certainly not--agin
reg-u-lations."

Then he said he'd wait for me a minute, and I ran back home, because I
knew I'd get there faster than any canal mule, and I bust into the room,
and told Aunty May, and first she didn't like my busting in like that,
and then she got interested. She gave me a picture-book and a piece of
rag, and some witch-hazel in a bottle, and a big piece of cake. When I
got out, the boy was just coming up to the fence, and Aunty May wanted
to tie up his leg for him, but he wouldn't. So she explained to him
that the stuff in the bottle and the rag was for his leg, and he said,
"Yes, 'm, thanks," and then she went in the house quick, so's I could
speak to him myself. I'd asked her to.

He said, "Well, eel-catcher, this will help me some. And if I pass this
way agin, I'll look you up."

"Oh, do," I said.

"Want yer book back?" he calls.

"No," I said, "when you get through with it, give it to the eel."

"No," says he, "he's not fond of reading, but I know an old mushrat
that's fond of anything like print. I'll give it to him, so any time you