“What is that?” said Stuyvesant.
“I should like to see Frink. I suppose it would not do to bring him in here. Would it, mother?”
Mrs. Henry was sitting at her window at this time sewing.
“Why, I don’t know,” said Mrs. Henry. “How can you bring him in?” she asked.
“Oh, I can put his house upon a board,” said Stuyvesant, “and put him into it, and then bring house and all.”
“Well,” said Mrs. Henry, “I have no objection. Only get a smooth and clean board.”
So Stuyvesant went out to the shop to get the squirrel. He found him perched upon the handle of the hand-saw, which was hanging against the wall.
“Come, Frink, come with me,” said Stuyvesant. So he extended his hand and took Frink down.
“Ah!” said he, “I have not got your house ready yet. So you will please to go down into my pocket until I am ready.”