The Story of Freginald by Walter R. Brooks

nothing had happened, and pretty soon the scared farmer would sneak back into his car and drive off at top speed.
    Once a boy climbed out of his car and shot at them with a rifle. The bullet kicked up a puff of dust between them, and before it had settled they had dived into the woods. The boy followed them, sneaking along quietly from tree to tree, but they were a good deal better at that than he was, and a good deal quicker, and they circled around and got into the back of his car and hid under a rug. By and by the boy came back, and when he had slid in behind the wheel, Leo rose up and put his paws over the boy’s eyes and said: “Guess who this is?”
    â€œWell,” said the boy, “your voice sounds sort of like Uncle Caspar’s, but he cuts his fingernails short. The only person around here that has sharp fingernails is Ella Simpson. She’s everlastingly at her filing and manicuring. She could fake the voice, too. Well, if I guess right will you give me a kiss?”
    â€œSure,” said Leo.
    â€œWell, I guess Ella,” said the boy. And then he turned around. He made a noise like a cat falling out of a fourth-story window and ducked and tried to crawl under the wheel.
    But Leo pulled him back and said: “Hey, how about that kiss?”
    â€œAw, he’s scared enough, Leo,” said Freginald. “Get up, boy. We won’t hurt you.”
    So the boy sat up, shivering, and Leo gave him a good talking to and he promised never to shoot at any lions again. And they let him go.
    Another day they were passing a pond and they heard a little weak voice calling: “Help! Help!” They pushed through the bushes and there on the bank was a small green snake tied in a knot. When he saw them he began to cry. “Oh dear, oh dear,” he sobbed, “I’m so glad you’ve come! I just thought nobody’d ever hear me.”

    â€œWell, well,” said Leo, “don’t bawl. We’ll straighten you out. Here, Fredg, catch his tail and pull it through there. That’s it. How on earth did you ever get tied up like that?”
    â€œI was chasing a frog. He jumped over me and then he crawled under me and then he jumped over me again and I followed him, and the first thing I knew, I was like this. And I couldn’t get back again. Oh, thank you, you kind, good animals. How can I ever repay your kindness?”
    â€œDo you suppose you could do it again?” Freginald asked.
    â€œOh dear, I don’t want to. I can’t untie myself afterwards, and you don’t know how unpleasant it feels.”
    â€œThat’s an idea, Fredg,” said Leo. “That would be some act, wouldn’t it? Do it again, snake; we’ll untie you.”
    The snake began to cry a little, but Leo said: “Come, stop sniveling. We’ve promised to untie you.” So he tied himself in a knot. It was a little difficult for him because he was trying to stop crying at the same time, and that gave him the hiccups, and every time he hiccuped he straightened out. But at last he did it.
    So they untied him again and took him back to the circus. He became quite famous. He used to tie himself in a knot around the snake-charmer’s neck and was known far and wide as the live necktie. But he was always very nervous and timid, and he never got over his fear that they would forget to untie him after he had done his act, so that often he would burst out crying in the middle of it. And at last he decided to leave the circus. He retired and now lives in a swamp up near Buffalo.
    After a while as the news got around the country that Mr. Boomschmidt was on the look-out for animals who could do parlor tricks, a great many animals came to see him of their own accord. This was rather a nuisance because only about one in ten could do anything really clever. The rest just thought they could. So finally Mr. Boomschmidt decided to have an amateur hour at the end of every afternoon