“Well, I think,” said Beechnut, stopping his work a moment, and leaning on his rake, and drawing a long breath, as if what he was about to say was the result of very anxious deliberation, “I think that on the whole, if that squirrel were mine, I should put two large baskets up in the barn-chamber, and send him into the woods this fall to get beechnuts, and hazelnuts, and fill the baskets. One basket for beechnuts and one for hazelnuts, and I would give him a month to fill them.”
BEECHNUT’S ADVICE.
“Nonsense, Beechnut,” said Phonny, “you are only making fun. If I were to let him go off into the woods, he never would come back again.”
“Why, do you suppose,” said Beechnut, “that he would rather be running about in the woods than to live in that trap?”
“Yes,” said Phonny.
“Then,” said Beechnut, “you must make him a beautiful cage, and have it so convenient and comfortable for him, that he shall like it better than he does the woods. That would not be difficult, one would suppose, because he has nothing but holes in the ground and old hollow logs in the woods.”
“I know that,” said Phonny; “but then I don’t think he would like any house that I could make him, so well as he does the old logs.”