“Yes,” said Caleb, “a grey squirrel.”
“Where is he?” said David, looking up eagerly, from his work.
“In the back-room,” said Caleb. “Raymond put him in a box.—Come, and I will shew him to you.”
Down went Dwight's pole, in a moment; David, too, shut his knife, and put it in his pocket, and off they went to see the squirrel.
The little nut-cracker was frightened at seeing so many eyes peeping in upon him from every crevice and opening in his box. He looked much brighter and better than he did when he was put into the box, and Caleb thought he would get entirely well.
“O, I wish I had him,” said Dwight.
“I am going to keep him in a cage,” said Caleb.
“I wish he was mine,” said Dwight. “Why can't you give him to me, Caleb?”
“O, no,” said Caleb, “I want to keep him.”
“You don't know how to take care of him,” said Dwight. “Come, you give him to me, and I will give you my flag-staff.”