“I was just being nice,” said Emmy, stung.
“You’re too nice,” said the Rat sharply. “A little meanness is good for the soul. I highly recommend it.”
Emmy lifted her chin. “Being mean doesn’t get you anywhere. Nobody pets you. Nobody plays with you.”
“I get what I want,” said the Rat, showing his long yellow teeth. “I get respect, which is more than I can say for you.”
Emmy glared at him. “You get respect? You live in a cage.”
The Rat looked stunned.
“Well, it’s true,” Emmy said crossly. “Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed. You know, the bars, the lock on the door…”
The Rat’s whiskers trembled. “You’re not being very nice.”
“Nice? I thought a little meanness was good for the–”
“Most people don’t mention it. Most people know better than to taunt a rodent about his…unfortunate situation.”
“Look, you were the one who said–”
“It’s not my fault I’m locked up!” The Rat’s voice quavered pathetically. “I committed no crime! Have I survived kidnapping from the nest, unjust imprisonment, and absolutely appalling food”–he gave his dish of pellets a contemptuous kick–“only to be mocked by a little child?”
“I’m bigger than you,” Emmy began hotly, “and you were the one who said I shouldn’t be so nice–”
“But not to me! It’s different when you’re mean to me!”
“Oh, right,” said Emmy.
from one of my favorite books, Emmy and the Incredible Shrinking Rat, by Lynn Jonell, pages 6-7