"Of course I did; and very nice, tender meat they were," replied the horrid old owl, beginning to scramble out of the nest, and eyeing the squirrels at the same time with a wicked look.
"But you did not eat our parents too?" asked the trembling squirrels.
"Yes, I did. They were very tough, to be sure; but I am not very particular."
The gray squirrels, though full of grief and vain regret, were obliged to take care of themselves. There was, indeed, no time to be lost; so made a hasty retreat. They crept under the roots of an old tree, where they lay till the morning. They were not much concerned for the death of the treacherous black squirrel who had told so many stories, got possession of their old nest, and caused the death of their parents; but they said, "We will go home again to our dear old hemlock-tree, and never leave it more." So these dear little squirrels returned to their forest home, and may be living there yet.
* * * * *
"Nurse," said Lady Mary, "how do you like the story?"
Mrs. Frazer said it was a very pretty one.
"Perhaps my dear little pet is one of Nimble or Silvy's children. You know, nurse, they might have gone on their travels too, when they were old enough, and then your brother may have chopped down the tree, and found them in the forest."
"But your squirrel, Lady Mary, is a flying squirrel, and these were only common gray ones, which belong to a different species. Besides, my dear, this history is but a fable."
"I suppose, nurse," said the child, looking up in her nurse's face, "squirrels do not really talk."