Frank gave his sister a look which was intended to be very cross; but it ended in a laugh, and Mr. Goodman went on with the story.
“The little squirrel thought he should like to take a trip over the lake. He was tired, he said, of always seeing the same trees, and the same green grass, and he wanted to find out what the rest of the world was made of. His father and mother charged him not to go, and his father warned him that he would meet in the world many artful and cruel enemies, and that he was too young to guard against danger. Master Bob, who thought he knew what was right, was fully determined upon going. Wilful boys—”
“Boys, father?” interrupted Frank, with a curious look.
“Squirrels, I should say,” answered his father; “but boys are just as bad.
“Wilful and naughty young squirrels are never willing to listen to the advice of their elders, but choose to try for themselves. So when Master Bob found he could not get permission, he determined to go without. He stole away from home, and making a raft or boat out of the bark of a willow, loaded it with nuts as his provision. He then launched his boat, and skipped on board, with as much importance as the rocking of his crazy vessel would permit. His parents, who discovered what he was doing too late to stop him, called after him; but he paid no heed, and his father then told him that he really hoped he would meet difficulty enough to bring him back home, in his senses.”
“Be still!” shouted Frank to his sister.
“Why, what’s the matter?” asked Mrs. Goodman.
Bob leaves Home.
“Mary might look at father, when he is talking, and quit laughing at me!”