"Come, kitty-kitty-kitty!" he coaxed.

"Doggone your onery soul, I'm gitting tired of this kinda performance! You can tromp on me just so fur and no further, now I'm a-tellin' yuh.

That there tail of yourn needs a fresh rag tied to it, and some salve.

But I ain't the burrowin' kind of animal, and I ain't comin' in under there after yuh.

Come, kitty-kitty-kitty! Come on outa there 'fore I send a charge of birdshot in after yuh!" His voice changed to a tremulous chant of rising anger.