“There he is,” said Fred laughingly. “He looks like a little old man sitting up there on that rock.”
“He’s all right; don’t you worry about him,” said George. “He’s my friend.”
“It looked so when he ate the back of your hand off,” laughed Grant.
“That’s just the way he shows his affection,” exclaimed George. “He didn’t mean anything by that.”
“Well, if that’s the case,” said Grant, “I’m certainly glad he doesn’t care anything about me.”
“Catch him, Pop,” urged John, “and we’ll clip his wings.”
“Will you help me? I don’t want to lose him now after all the trouble I had to get him. I think I can tame him, too.”
“Sure you can. Get him over here.”
“How can I do it?”
“I’ll show you,” exclaimed John. “Watch me.”