CHOOSING THE KING n 



gry movement that made them all shudder. His 

 big lolling tongue looked like a firebrand. 



&quot; You need n t fret,&quot; squeaked Jay ; &quot; we don t 

 want you. We don t want a rowdy Ruler. I 

 saw you fighting with the Train Dogs over at 

 Wapiscaw last Winter. You re as disgraceful as 

 any domestic cur.&quot; 



&quot;Now, Pisew &quot; began Carcajou. 



As he mentioned the Lynx s name, a smile 

 went round the meeting. Whisky-Jack took a 

 fit of chuckling laughter, until he fell off his 

 perch. This made him cranky in an instant. 

 &quot; Of all the silly Sneaks ! &quot; he exclaimed scorn 

 fully, as he fluttered up on a small Jack-pine, and 

 stuck &amp;gt;ut his ruffled breast. &quot; That Spear-eared 

 Creature for King ! Oh, my ! Oh, my ! that s 

 too rich ! He d have you all catching Rabbits 

 for him to eat. Kings are great gourmands, I 

 know, but they don t eat Field Mice, and Frogs, 

 and Snails, and trash of that sort not raw, 

 anyway.&quot; 



Carcajou proceeded more gravely with his ob 

 jection. &quot;As I said before, this is purely a mat 

 ter of business with us ; and anything I say must 

 not be taken as a personal affront.&quot; 



&quot; Of course not, of course not,&quot; interrupted 

 Jack. &quot; Go on with your candid observations, 

 Hump-back.&quot; 



