Out she jumped, and with her paws she pulled off the doll’s dress that had been tied on her. Then, chattering as loudly as she could, she ran to her cage, and hid in the little place where she slept. There Mollie and Sallie could not get her.
“Oh, well, never mind. Let’s play with our real dolls,” said Mollie. “Maybe Bob wouldn’t like us to dress up his squirrel.”
“All right,” agreed Sallie. And Slicko was glad to be left alone.
She did not mind when Bob taught her tricks.
“If I learn a number of them,” thought Slicko, “I shall be as smart as Squinty, the comical pig, or as Mappo, the monkey, or Tum Tum, the jolly elephant. I wonder if I shall ever see them again.”
Slicko felt a little sad when she thought of her animal friends. Then she began thinking of her father and mother, of her sister and brothers, and of Aunt Whitey.
“I wonder where Aunt Whitey could be?” thought Slicko. “I should like to see her again.”
At these times Slicko became a little lonesome and homesick. But, whenever she was beginning to get too sad, Bob would come, take her out of the cage, and either give her something good to eat, or put her through some of her tricks. Then Slicko would be happy once more.
As the days went on, Slicko became so tame that the door of her cage was never shut. She could come and go as she pleased, and she roamed all about the house. She would come to the dinner table, and sit up near Bob, who would feed her from his plate. And then she would scramble into his pocket, to get a bit of sugar.
The winter came, with its cold and snow. Slicko stayed in the warm house. Then the days began to get warmer. Spring was coming. One day it was warm enough for the windows of the room, where Slicko’s cage stood, to be opened. The little squirrel smelled the fresh air of spring. She seemed to smell the cool, green woods, where the trees were just beginning to put on their new green dresses of leaves.