“Somebody to decide when there is a dispute,” replied Wallace. “Who shall be the umpire?”
“Beechnut,” said Phonny.
“Agreed,” said Wallace.
“And now there is one point more,” he continued, “and that is, perhaps you will neglect to feed him, and then we shall be uncomfortable, for fear that the squirrel is suffering.”
“No,” said Phonny, shaking his head; “I shall certainly feed him every day, and sometimes twice a day.”
“Are you willing to agree to forfeit him, if you fail to feed him?”
“Why—I don’t know,” said Phonny. “But I certainly shall feed him, I know I shall.”
“Then there will be no harm in agreeing to forfeit him if you fail,” rejoined Wallace; “for if you certainly do feed him, then your agreement to forfeit him will be a dead letter.”
“But I might accidentally omit to feed him some one day,” said Phonny. “I might be sick, or I might be gone away, and I might ask Stuyvesant to feed him, and he forget it, and then I should lose my squirrel entirely.”