The Adventures of a Squirrel, Supposed to be Related by Himself Part 2

Eaton then tried to knock it out of his hand, but instead of his succeeding, the tart fell and was broke to pieces. Eaton looked red. "Come," said Bentley, "though you refused so often, perhaps you may be inclined to take sixpence now." Eaton was not long determining, but s.n.a.t.c.hed the sixpence and gave me into Bentley's hands. He carried me directly into his chamber, and having given me some food, put me on his window seat. I lived very comfortably with him for a few days; till one day a boy named Smart, who, I afterwards learnt, was hired by Eaton, opened the window and put me out. I ran along the tiles, trembling, a great way, before I saw any window open where I might shelter myself. At last a boy spied me, and getting up to me with a ladder, I surrendered immediately. The boy, thinking he could sell me at the school better than at any other place, went there; and Bentley seeing me, before any of the boys said what they would give, offered the boy eighteenpence for me, which he accepted, and left me once more in good hands. He now took more care of me than ever, intending to take me home with him at the holidays; but an accident which happened soon after, made his good intention totally useless. One of his schoolfellows, named Hawkins, who slept in his room, had, it seems, long wished for me. He had tried various stratagems, none of which had turned out to his advantage: at last he thought of the following. He put his bottle and wash-hand bason in the way of my cage, so that when Bentley came to take me out, he threw them down, and broke them into a thousand pieces. Hawkins hearing the noise came up, and the following dialogue I distinctly heard, as I sat on Bentley's arm.

_Hawkins._ So, Bentley, you have broke my bason. How could you be so careless.

_Bentley._ It was rather careless, I must own; but who would have thought of a bottle and bason being so near a squirrel-cage, as to be broken when I went to take out my squirrel.

_Hawkins._ n.o.body could have thought it; but you should look before you do things in such a hurry. I suppose you intend to pay me for it.

_Bentley._ That I would very willingly do, if I had money. If you will trust me, I will give you my week's pay till the whole debt is paid.

_Hawkins._ And so I am to stay a month or more, while you pay me at your leisure. It was all owing to your want of attention, and I am to suffer for it.

_Bentley._ As to being owing to my want of attention, I don't see it in the least. It certainly was not a proper place for a bottle and bason. I think it must have been put there on purpose.

_Hawkins._ Pray, Sir, am I to be accountable to you for the place where I choose to put my bottle and bason. Suppose I put it there on purpose, have not I a right?

_Bentley._ A most undoubted one. But then, if it is broken, you have no right to scold about it, as it was through your own means it became so.

_Hawkins._ Well, I don't care, I will be paid for it. Come, Bentley, give me your squirrel, and I'll think no more about it.

_Bentley._ A likely matter.

_Hawkins._ Well, then, I am resolved you shall pay me.

_Bentley._ Very well, I will pay you in the manner I mentioned.

_Hawkins._ Don't you believe it: if you can't pay me now, I will take the Squirrel.

He then s.n.a.t.c.hed me from him, and carried me down stairs, where he met a boy named Lively, to whom he showed me; and both walking up to a bench that was placed under the study window, where Mr. Clarkson generally was, Hawkins began the conversation which will be related in the next chapter.

_CHAPTER VII._

_Hawkins._ I told you I should get it. Poor Bentley!

_Lively._ Why how could you get it?

_Hawkins._ I put my bottle and bason close to the cage, so that when he went to take out his squirrel, down they came, and broke to pieces. I went up and demanded payment, which he not being able to give me, I took his squirrel, which he held on his hand all the time we talked.

_Lively._ Upon my word, I think you did wrong.

_Hawkins._ What! are you one of those fools who are afraid of doing wrong. However, you see I have got something by doing wrong.----

"And you shall get something more by doing wrong," cried a voice.

Hawkins turned round, and saw his master, who had been standing at the window ever since they began to talk. "Give me that squirrel,"

continued Mr. Clarkson. Hawkins held me out to him with great reluctance. Mr. Clarkson then carried me into the school-room, and calling for Bentley, gave me to him, telling him, loud enough for Hawkins to hear him, that Hawkins would get much more by doing wrong, than he would by doing right, for he should get a very hearty flogging that afternoon. He likewise commended Lively for not agreeing with Hawkins. Bentley then carried me to his room again, packed me up, (in my cage,) and sent me by the stage to his sister, who lived at Stamford in Lincolns.h.i.+re, and was very intimate with Miss Huntley. My reception was a very good one.

Louisa Bentley was very fond of me, and always took care I should have plenty of food. She had invited a party of young ladies to see her that very afternoon: their names were, Miss Wilson, Miss Clark, Miss Smith, Miss Newman, and Miss Huntley.

When these young ladies were all seated, their conversation was as follows.

_Miss Bentley._ O, Miss Huntley, I had such a present made me to-day. My good brother always sends me some present from school, between the holidays; but this last, is the best he ever sent me. Only look, what a pretty squirrel! What makes you sigh, Miss Huntley?

_Miss Huntley._ Your squirrel puts me in mind of one I had lately.

Young Eaton came to drink tea with us before he went to school, when he let the squirrel out, and it jumped out of the window.

_Miss Clark._ Were you not very angry?

_Miss Newman._ I am sure I should have been very angry indeed; and, I think, not without a cause.

_Miss Smith._ He is always doing mischief, I think. It was but on Friday, when he came to see us, that he killed my canary bird, by putting a shot in the place where the seeds were, which stuck in its throat, and it died in a few minutes.

_Miss Clark._ And what did he say, when he saw he had killed it?

_Miss Smith._ He only laughed, and said he did not know it could not eat shot.

_Miss Wilson._ Perhaps he took it for an ostrich, and thought it could eat lead and iron. I do not wonder at it; for, in my opinion, he is foolish enough to think any thing.

[Ill.u.s.tration: _I have been looking at your squirrel._]

_Miss Huntley._ I have been looking at your squirrel, Miss Bentley, for some time; will you be kind enough to tell me where you got it? O, I remember, you said your brother sent it you, so it cannot be the same; but every mark on it is exactly like mine.

_Miss Bentley._ Suppose I write to him, and ask him where he got it. I a.s.sure you, if it is yours, you shall have it. I dare say my brother got it fairly.

_Miss Huntley._ My dear Louisa, I would not take it from you on any account: I only wish to know that it has not died a violent death.

_Miss Newman._ Poor creature! I hope it has not. I would much rather see any favourite bird or squirrel die, than that they should escape.

_Miss Clark._ My brother never sends me such presents. Yes, once, indeed, to do him justice, he sent me a present you would not guess, if you were to try from morning till night. He goes to school about two miles off, and the week before last, he sent me, in the baker's cart, an ugly monkey: such a great creature. He began clambering over the chairs and tables; so I sent it back, with a letter, in which I told him, monkeys were not presents for young ladies, and that he could better take care of his brother than I could. Don't you think I was pretty severe upon him, Miss Newman?

_Miss Newman._ Yes, indeed, I think you was. But, my dear girl, you forget that you was just as severe upon yourself; for as you are brother and sister, the monkey cannot be brother to one of you, without being brother to the other.

_Miss Clark._ Miss Newman, I a.s.sure you I don't understand such usage: I did not come here to be called names. I think my question was not uncivil.

_Miss Newman._ And I think I answered you as civilly as I could, Miss Smith, do you think I could have given a more civil answer?

_Miss Smith._ No, indeed, I do not.

_Miss Clark._ Well, ladies, I see you are all against me, so I had better take my leave. Here Mrs. Bentley entering, put a stop to Miss Clark's resolution, by proposing a game at forfeits, for she readily consented to be of the party. I took the opportunity to fall asleep, and when I awoke, the following letter was lying by my cage.

My dear Brother,

I am so much obliged to you for your present, that I cannot express my thanks: I believe I shall best be able to do that when I see you. I had some young ladies to see me yesterday, among them was Miss Huntley, who has begged me to write to satisfy her curiosity. She would, therefore, take it as a favour, if you would tell me where you got it; as it is very like one she had, which made its escape. O, my dear brother, I wish you was at home. I have so many things to say to you, I don't know how to say them in letter; for, let people say what they will, it is easier to talk than to write a letter; so must conclude this, from

Your affectionate sister,

Louisa Bentley.