Chapter 2

After running a great way, I heard a violent noise, which alarmed me very much. I could not think what it was, but approaching nearer and nearer, it proved to be a company of gipsies, making merry as they were travelling. I took great care to avoid them, as I knew, if I had once got into their hands, I should not have got away very easily; so I climbed a tree and sat very quiet. I came down as soon as they were gone, and ran till I came to the city of London, which was not above half a mile from where I lived; for Mrs. Dixon's house was at Islington, at least very near it. Here I had no very great chance of hiding myself, so resolved to run up one of the houses, and get in at the first window I found open, and trust to the temper of some little boy or girl, rather than starve. The house I chanced to ascend belonged to Alderman Bumble. I happened to enter the window of Miss Henrietta Bumble's chamber; so I crept into her cap, which was lying in a chair, and lay till she wanted to put it on. I chanced to lay in such a manner, that she distinguished me as she lay in bed; and bouncing out, she took me up and ran down stairs undressed. The alderman and his lady were waiting breakfast for her. As soon as she entered, the alderman started up and said, "Bless me, Henny, what can you want here in such a figure;" "O Papa," said she, "here is the prettiest squirrel (but I should have told you I had found means to wash off the ink I had received in my last abode,) and where do you think I found him--lying in my cap, as snug as it was possible." "Well, my love," said the alderman, "run up and dress yourself, and then come and tell us about your squirrel." Henny then ran up stairs, tied me to the bed-post, and began to dress. When she had done, she untied me, and carried me down stairs. "Now," said the alderman, "you look something more like a human creature: let us hear your story." "Well then," said Henrietta, "this is the case: I was just going to get up, when I saw this pretty squirrel in my cap; and how it came there, I am sure I cannot tell. He never offered to stir, but lay very quiet till I took him out. Do let me have a cage for him." "Well, my dear," replied her mamma, "you shall have a cage for him, and a very nice one too." "Look'ye," said the alderman, "she shall not have a cage: it would be throwing money away." "I say she shall have a cage," said the lady, "as sure as my name is Sukey Bumble, while I have a crown in my pocket." "Well," said the alderman, "I see _I_ must yield: so I am to get you money to spend in cages. Henny, my love, (continued he,) let me look at it." Henny, however, kept it in her hand, in which she was seconded by her mother, who said, "That's right, my girl, do not part with it." Henrietta was standing so near the alderman, he thought, with a little effort he might snatch it from her; but being very bad with the gout, he overbalanced himself, and down he came. Mrs. Bumble with great difficulty raised him, which, as soon as she had done, he hobbled up to Henrietta, took me from her by force, and barbarously cut off near half an inch of my tail with a pair scissars. Henrietta burst into tears, Mrs. Bumble began scolding him, when a servant came in, whom she desired to go to Crooked-lane, and procure one of the very best cages that could be got. The Alderman stormed; his lady raved; and Henrietta cried. Mrs. Bumble said she would be minded, and giving the man a guinea, told him, if it came to more, to pay it. "What," continued she, "would you have an alderman's lady send for a sixpenny wicker cage, to keep a squirrel in. No, by no means in the world; and you ought to be ashamed of yourself to have maimed a poor defenceless creature, only because you fell out of the chair." As there were a great many questions and answers, I think it would be best to give them to you in the manner they were delivered by the parties.

_Alderman._ Why now, was not the squirrel the cause of my fall. Did I not, in attempting to get the squirrel, fall off my chair? and therefore, was not the squirrel the cause of my fall.

_Lady._ Suppose it was: but what business had you to try to get the squirrel, and then to revenge yourself in such a shameful manner. I wish to my heart he had bit you.

_Alderman._ I am much obliged to you, however, for the wish, my dear; but of the two, I would rather he had let it alone.

_Henrietta._ I am sure it would have served you right.

_Alderman._ Come here Henrietta, (pinching her ears) so you think it would have served me right, do you? I like every body to be served right, and I think I am now serving you right.

_Henrietta._ Oh!

_Alderman._ Pray, Miss, mind what you say another time, or you will get into disgrace, depend upon it.

The servant coming in at this instant, put a stop to what Mrs. Bumble was going to say. She had opened her mouth in the greatest rage, but the servant giving her a shilling, as change out of the guinea, and giving Henrietta the cage, she was forced to shut it. I had now the sad fortune to be put into a cage, exactly resembling that in which I lived at Mrs. Howard's. I had no sooner entered my new habitation, than I was set to work, and kept at it almost an hour; at which time the alderman pulled Henrietta away by force. A coach stopping at the door, hindered any dispute that might have arisen from the treatment of the alderman; for out jumped four young ladies, and two young gentlemen, who had been invited to spend the evening. Their names were, John and Emily Shepherd, James and Caroline Churchill, Eliza Careful, and Fanny Fairchild. The usual compliments being over, the following conversation ensued.

_CHAPTER V._

_Emily._ Bless me, Henrietta, where did you get that pretty squirrel.

_Henrietta._ Ay, where now do you think I got that pretty squirrel? Why, Emily, if I was to tell you to guess a hundred times, you would never find it out. I found it in my cap yesterday morning, as I was going to dress.

_Caroline._ Where?

_Emily._ No, surely!

_James_ and _John_. In your cap?

_Henrietta._ Yes, I did, I assure you. I was going to put it on, but I saw what was in it, and mamma was so kind as to buy me that nice cage. You cannot think how prettily he goes round. You shall see him presently.

_Fanny._ Oh dear, Henrietta, I have a sad tale to tell you. You know the pretty canary bird the baker gave me; well, what do you think William did? he cut off half its tail, and part of its wings.

_Henrietta._ Why, that was nothing to what my papa did. He is not in the room, so I can safely tell you; he cut off half my squirrel's tail with his scissars, as coolly as if he had been peeling an orange.

_All the party._ How cruel!

_Henrietta._ And all because he fell down, in endeavouring to get it.

_Emily._ And so he revenged himself on the Squirrel, that was not right.

_Fanny._ Right! indeed I think not; he deserved to have had his great toe cut off, and then he might have been better able to judge, by the pain he felt, how the squirrel liked the cutting off his tail. I think I never heard any thing so barbarous.

_James._ I say, Jack, let us have some fun with this lop-tail squirrel: while they are talking, they will not see us.

_John._ Ay, so we will.

They then proceeded to action. The young ladies were so busy, they did not see these two mischievous boys, till they had set me on Eliza's head; who giving a violent scream, alarmed the whole company. Emily, in getting up in a hurry, overturned Fanny, who was not sitting quite steadily in her chair; she gave her a blow, which Emily returned, and confusion was the word for near an hour; when peace was restored by the entrance of the alderman and his lady, who, after having in vain tried to learn the cause of the bustle, proposed a game at cards. James and Caroline desired to set out, so, while the rest of the company were at cards, they amused themselves by tormenting me. At last tired by constant exercise, and irritated by James, who pricked me with his toothpick whenever I attempted to rest, I waited for a good opportunity, and as he laid his finger close to my cage, (while he was talking to some of the card party) I gave him a bite he has remembered ever since, I dare say. It so exasperated him, that he pricked me now more than ever; and Caroline joined him in persecuting me. I had once or twice attempted to bite her, which she was aware of; but James dropping his toothpick into my cage, made me watch well, as I knew one of them would try to take it out. At last Caroline ventured, and just as she put her finger in, somebody spoke to her, and she forgot to take it out, till the pain she felt from one of my bites made her withdraw it rather hastily. The scream she gave so startled the alderman, that he overset the card table upon his lady; the girls jumped up, the boys laughed, I went round and caused a violent ringing: so that they, who before were so desirous that I should do it, were now more desirous I should stand still. The alderman often attempted to speak, but my ringing entirely drowned his voice; till at length enraged, he came to my cage, and having pulled me out, and flung me into a corner of the room, where I staid very quietly, he began to pull off the bells, which hung over the cage; which, when he had done, he tossed them, one by one, to the company, telling them, if they were fond of the noise they might make it themselves, and then the only difference would be, "it would be made by monkeys instead of squirrels." The alderman then went out of the room, Henrietta put me into my cage, and peace was once more restored. And now all their proceedings were stopped, by the arrival of Mr. and Mrs. Churchill, who were come to take their young folks home, and offer a place in the coach to the rest of the party. Away they went, to my great joy. Henrietta now bewailed the loss of her bells in such violent terms, that the alderman told her, if she did not cease, he would send the squirrel to Miss Lee. Upon which Mrs. Bumble started up in a rage, "It shall not be done:" said she, "it was a scandalous thing of you to break the bells, but I shall take care to send for new ones." "Not while the servants are mine," said the alderman. His lady made no reply, but rang the bell, a servant appeared. "John," said she, "take this where you bought it, and get new bells put on." "John," said the alderman, "if you do, you may as well take your wages in your hand. But you will receive them when you come back, so it is the same thing." John then went, and contrived to get it done by somebody else, so that he might oblige both master and mistress. The alderman having found out it had been done, got up one morning very early, packed me up in my cage, and sent me by the coach into Lincolnshire, to a Miss Huntley, one of his relations. Here I lived a short, but happy life; I was constantly fed, very seldom exercised contrary to my inclinations, and, in short, lived so happily, I thought it exceeded, if possible, the kind treatment I met with at the good Mrs. Greville's.

_CHAPTER VI._

But soon was my happiness put an end to. Very near my mistress, lived a young gentleman, whose name was Eaton, who, though nearly fourteen years of age, and a very clever youth, delighted in mischief; and though he did not mean it, he sometimes did things very unworthy a gentleman.

This young fellow no sooner found Miss Huntley kept a squirrel, than he resolved to be possessed of me. I afterwards found his reason for so doing, was only "because he thought, if he took it to school with him, it might cause some fine sport." The next day was fixed for his departure; and, as he was very intimate with Miss Huntley, he said he would came and drink tea with her once more before he went to school. He came, admired me greatly, and, after tea, said he would play with me. The window happened to be up, so, while they were talking, and not looking at him, he slily put me into his pocket, buttoned it, and giving a great shriek, said I had jumped out of the window. Poor Isabella Huntley was very much vexed. He said there was no hopes of getting it, as it travelled at such a rate, he supposed it would be ten or twelve miles off by the next day. He told truth, for, as he was going the next day, he would be much farther than twelve miles; and so should I also, as I went in his pocket. He soon after took his leave, leaving Isabella very sorrowful, little thinking where her squirrel was. He went to school very early the next day, and I travelled all the way in his pocket. Luckily I found a few cherries and a cake, or most probably I should not have lived to my journey's end. We arrived at the Rev. Mr. Clarkson's academy, I cannot tell at what time; let it suffice, that when he got there, he took me out, and tied a piece of string round my neck, while he showed me to his schoolfellows! He then asked, if any body had a cage to sell. They none of them had one, except one boy, who came and said he would sell his, but that it would put him to a great inconvenience, as he had a bird in it at present, and could not sell it under three shillings; for he knew Eaton would buy it, let it cost what it would. He therefore tried to make the most of it. Eaton paid him the money, and put me in it. Here I had to perform my tricks before all the boys, four or five times a day, and was liable to all the insults they chose to bestow upon me. Indeed, a boy did once hit me a terrible blow with an apple. In about a week, the money Eaton had brought with him to school, was all gone; he then had recourse to selling me. He offered me in my cage for two shillings. Nobody would give it. At last a boy came to him and offered tenpence for me. Eaton, in a rage, hit him a box on the ear, and sent the boy away crying. At last, finding nobody would give more, he went to the boy he had struck, whose name was Bentley, asked his pardon, and said he should have me for tenpence. Bentley now refused, saying, that as he had been struck, he would give no more than sixpence. At this time, the man who used to come with cakes and apples for the boys to buy, came into the play-ground. Eaton took up a tart, and holding his hand out to Bentley, said: "Come, you may as well give me tenpence;" but Bentley held out sixpence, and said he would give no more. 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 snatched 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._ Nobody 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 snatched 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 Lincolnshire, 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.

_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 assure 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 assure 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.

_CHAPTER VIII._