When night came I found myself very hungry, so ventured to come down. My chain rattling at my heels, hindered me from running; but, however I got, on a good way, when I felt myself stopped, and found I was entangled in a gooseberry bush, in a very handsome garden. Fortunately, the owner used to walk in it every morning before breakfast; I saw her pass me once or twice, (for I waited very patiently till morning,) but one time, as she was walking by, I made an effort to get loose, which made her turn, and perceiving me, she called her servant to extricate me. She then carried me into the parlour, and put me into a cage; not such a one as I had inhabited before, it was a very nice one, without any bells. In the parlour was a young lady about fourteen years old; between whom and the lady I heard the following dialogue.

Niece. Dear, aunt! what have you got another squirrel? What a pretty one it is! where did you get it?

Aunt. I found it in the garden, entangled in a bush. If I had not been walking in the garden, very likely he might have died. I should have been very sorry to have found him dead.

Niece. How fortunate this is: but I cannot help pitying poor Tom—what a pretty fellow he was, and how sad a death it was to be devoured by the cat. I think he was the prettiest squirrel I ever saw.

Aunt. Well, now really, I think this much prettier. Poor fellow! how he trembles.

Niece. What a pretty chain. I dare say some young lady has lost him, by his having such a nice chain.

Aunt. Well, then all we have to do, is to feed him well, and, if we find the owner, return him.

Niece. I hope we may never find out who it belongs to.

Aunt. You should not say so, my dear. Now suppose, Nancy, you had a squirrel and it ran away from you, how should you like never to see it again? and should not you think it wrong, if any body had found it, and knew who it belonged to, and would not return it? To be sure you would.

Niece. True, madam, but I did not think of that. But Aunt, very likely he is hungry: shall I get him something to eat?

Aunt. Do, my love.—Nancy then ran, but presently returned with a nice mess of bread and milk, which I eat very heartily. She then put some clean hay, and a handful of nuts into my cage. A knock at the door called off the attention of Nancy, and presently entered two young ladies and a young gentleman. One of the young ladies was Miss Fanny Hudson; the other was Miss Kitty Bell; and the young gentleman, Master Henry Hudson, brother to Fanny. As soon as they entered the room, they paid the usual compliments to Mrs. Greville, (which was the name of the good lady who found me,) but had their eye upon me all the time. The following discourse I can pretty well remember, as it began concerning me; and we usually listen with greater attention when the conversation is concerning ourselves.

Fanny. What a pretty squirrel you have got, Miss Greville: what is become of the other?

Nancy. Oh dear, Fanny! if I have not told you, you have a dreadful piece of news to hear. Oh dear! how my heart did jump up and down for two hours after it. The cat had no dinner on Thursday. I was playing with my squirrel, when the maid entered the room, and did not see the cat till my poor Tom was in her mouth; and what was almost as bad, I flung my work-bag at her in a rage, it caught in the lock of the door, and tore this large hole in it. I was so vexed.

Kitty. Enough to make you vexed, indeed. But you seem to have got a squirrel just as pretty as Tom was.

Nancy. And we got it in the oddest manner. My aunt was walking in the garden, and found it, with its chain on, entangled in the bushes.

Henry. Exactly the way I found my dog. He was in the garden with a great stick tied to his tail, all over mud and dirt; but I cleaned him, and now I would not part with him for a guinea.

Kitty. Suppose, Nancy, we let him out: I think he seems very tame.

Nancy. I really do not think he is very tame; we have not had him a day yet.

Fanny. Well! but if he was to be let out, tame or not tame, what do you think he would do?

Henry. Why jump off, and run away, to be sure. Are you such a stupid creature, not to know that?

Here the conversation was interrupted by a squeak from the further corner of the room. The case was this: Kitty, like an obstinate girl, had come to my cage, and, while Nancy was looking another way, opened my door; upon which I walked out very composedly, and should have staid on the table, had she not screamed in such a manner as quite startled me. I jumped off, and ran under her chair. The whole company started up, and ran toward Kitty, who began to cry, conscious of its being her fault; but presently Nancy desired her not to cry, as there was no harm done; for I had run into the dear girl's hand, the moment she stooped to try to catch me. The young folks now departed. When I was put into my cage again, (after having received two kisses from Nancy, for being so tame,) she brought me some food, and let me take a little rest after my fright. In short, I lived a fortnight in the happiest manner I could have wished. But, alas! one day, as Nancy was playing with me, (without my chain,) the murderer of my predecessor entered. I was so shocked, that in two jumps I was out of the window, which two jumps I shall regret as long as I live; for I never was happier than at the good Mrs. Grevilles. I ran, as fast as I possibly could, close by the wall, till I came to some fields, where I climbed up a tree, and stayed in it till night; when a company of thieves coming to divide their spoils, laid a cloth and went to supper, which, when they had finished, they went to sleep on their backs, all in a row. I then ventured to come down, and see what I could find to eat; which was nothing but a piece of bread, which I carried into the tree, and eat very heartily.