Oh bibbie, then you should have seen him! He tried to
rub it off against his head and it stuck there and then there was a circus.
He rolled over on the ground and caught another sheet against his side. In
another second he had one flopping on the end of his tail and he kept going
around after it until pretty soon it got stuck to one of his legs.
Jiminetty! But you should have heard him howl I bet he was mad clean
through.
But safety first-oh boy! I dropped another one and it landed right on his
nose; lucky shot. By now he was acting just like a cat having a fit and
bowling like mad. I guess he couldn't see at all, because he went,
kerplunk, up against a tree and then rolled away and went banging against
the spring house. He had two sheets on his face and another one on his paw
and the whole front of him was all mucked up with gum and the grass and
dirt were sticking to him. Believe me, he was a sight. He didn't look much
like a lord of the jungle; he looked more as if he was on his way home
from the hospital.
You can talk about tanks and machine guns and poison gas and hand grenades,
and all the other new fangled weapons, but tangle foot for mine; that's
what _I_ say.
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