The light roused the various occupants of the boxes and cages. That and the step were suggestive of food, and sundry squeakings and scratchings arose, with, from time to time, a loud rap on the floor given by one of the rabbits.
There was a lonely desolate feeling in Dexter’s breast as he set the rat at liberty, for the furtive-looking creature to hurry beneath the boards which formed the rough floor.
Then the mice were taken out of their box, and the first movement of the little creatures was to run all over their master, but he hurriedly took them off him, feeling more miserable than ever, and ready to repent of the step he was about to take.
The rabbits were carried downstairs, and turned out into the yard, Dexter having a belief that as they had once grown tame perhaps, many generations back, they might now as easily grow wild, and if in the process they made very free with old Dan’l’s vegetables, until they escaped elsewhere, it would not be very serious.
As it was, they crept here and there over the stones for a few moments, and then went off investigating, and evidently puzzled by their freedom.
The hedgehog and squirrel were brought down together, and carried right into the garden, where the former was placed upon one of the flower-beds, and disappeared at once; the latter held up to a branch of the ornamental spruce, into which it ran, and then there was a scuffling noise, and Dexter ran away back to the stable, afraid to stop, lest the little ragged jacketed animal should leap back upon him, and make him more weak than he was.
He climbed again to the loft, hearing a series of tiny squeaks as he mounted—squeaks emanating from his mice, and directly after he nearly crushed the rat, by stepping upon it as the little animal ran up to be fed.
He had come for the toad and snake, and hurriedly plunging his hand into the big pot he found Sam the toad, seated right at the top, evidently eager to start on a nocturnal ramble, but the snake was coiled up asleep.
It was a curious pet, that toad, but somehow, as it sat nestled up all of a squat in the boy’s warm hand, he felt as if he should like to take it with him. It was not big, and would take up little room, and cost nothing to feed.
Why not?