The Pixie wore an air of quiet triumph when he appeared in Wendell’s room that evening. So did Wendell.
“Well,” said the Pixie. “Do you give up this time?”
“Not this time,” said Wendell, quietly but with great enjoyment, and he fished the acorn out of his pocket and laid it on the desk in front of the Pixie, who glared at it savagely.
“Well,” said Wendell, “are you satisfied?”
“Oh, yes,” said the Pixie, ironically. “It’s an acorn. I know an acorn when I see one, thank you. But there aren’t any oaks on Acorn Street.”
SHE GRABBED THE SQUIRREL’S BEAUTIFUL BUSHY TAIL
“I know it. But a squirrel brought it all the way from the Public Garden and dropped it there. I saw him.”
“A common or garden squirrel?” asked the Pixie incredulously.