“He said he was tired of city life and needed country air, and he went up on North Hill, and stayed till the ladies moved away, then he came back to their neighborhood and played another trick almost as bad, on a nice old grandfather.”
CHAPTER VII
MORE ABOUT SQUIRRIE
WHY, Squirrie is the mischief-maker of the neighborhood,” I said.
“He is indeed, and I would not advise you to cultivate him. He would be sure to get you into trouble.”
“What did he do to the grandfather?” I asked.
“Caused him to commit sin by beating an innocent dog,” said Chummy solemnly.
“Who was the dog?” I asked.
“Pluto was his name, but we all called him Cross-Patch, because he had a snarly temper. He was a good dog, though, for he tried so hard to overcome his faults. He had been a thief, but Grandfather had reasoned with him, and whipped him, till at last he was a perfectly honest dog—but he got a bad beating that Christmas.”
“Who was Grandfather?” I asked.