Stuyvesant: A Franconia Story

“No,” said Phonny, “I don’t think that it will make her any trouble at all.”

“Where shall you keep your squirrel?” asked Wallace.

“In a cage, in the back room,” said Phonny, promptly.

“Have you got a cage?” asked Wallace.

“No,” said Phonny, “but I can make one.”

“I think that in making a cage,” replied Wallace, “you would have to give other people a great deal of trouble. You would be inquiring all about the house, for tools, and boards, and wire, – that is unless you keep your tools and materials for such kind of work, in better order than boys usually do.”

Phonny was silent. His thoughts reverted to a certain room in one of the out-buildings, which he called his shop, and used for that purpose, and which was, as he well knew, at this time in a state of great confusion.

“Then,” continued Wallace, “you will leave the doors open, going and coming, to see your squirrel, and to feed him.”

“No,” said Phonny, “I am very sure that I shall not leave the doors open.”

“And then,” continued Wallace, “after a time you will get a little tired of your squirrel, and will forget to feed him, and so your mother or somebody in the house, must have the care of reminding you of it.”

“Oh, no,” said Phonny, “I should not forget to feed him, I am sure.”

“Did not you forget to feed your hens?” asked Wallace.

“Why – yes,” said Phonny, hesitatingly, “but that is a different thing.”

“Then, besides,” said Wallace, “you will have to go and beg some money of your mother to buy the squirrel with. For I suppose you have not saved any of your own, from your allowance. It is very seldom that boys of your age have self-control enough to lay up any money.”

As Wallace said these words Phonny, who had been riding along, with the bridle and his little riding stick both in his right hand, now shifted them into his left, and then putting his right hand into his left vest pocket, he drew out a little wallet. He then extended his hand with the wallet in it to Wallace saying,

“Look in there.”

Wallace took the wallet, opened it as he rode along, and found that there was a quarter of a dollar in one of the pockets.

“Is that your money?” said Wallace.

“Yes,” said Phonny.

“Then you are not near as much of a boy as I thought you were. To be able to save money, so as to have a stock on hand for any unexpected emergency, is one of the greatest proofs of manliness. I had no idea that you were so much of a man.”

Phonny laughed. At first Wallace supposed that this laugh only expressed the pleasure which Phonny felt at having deserved these praises, but as he gave back the wallet into Phonny’s hands, he perceived a very mysterious expression upon his countenance.

“That’s the money,” said Phonny, “that my mother just gave me for my next fortnight’s allowance.”

“Then you have had no opportunity to spend it at all?”

“No,” said Phonny.

Phonny thought that he was sinking himself in his cousin’s estimation by this avowal, but he was in fact raising himself very much by evincing so much honesty.

“He is not willing to receive commendation that he knows he does not deserve,” thought Wallace to himself. “That is a good sign. That is a great deal better trait of character than to be able to lay up money.”

Wallace thought this to himself as he rode along. He did not, however, express the thought, but went on a minute or two in silence. At length he said,

“So, then, you have got money enough to buy the squirrel?”

“Yes,” said Phonny, “if a quarter is enough.”

“It is enough,” said Wallace, “I have no doubt. So that one difficulty is disposed of. As to the second difficulty,” he continued, “that is, troubling the family about making the cage, we can dispose of that very easily, too, for I can help you about that myself. What shall we do about the third, leaving the doors open and making a noise when you go back and forth to feed him?”

“Oh, I will promise not to do that,” said Phonny.

“Promise!” repeated Wallace, in a tone of incredulity.

“Yes,” said Phonny, “I’ll promise, positively.”

“Is it safe to rely on boys’ promises about here?” said Wallace. “They would not be considered very good security in Wall Street, in New York.”

“I don’t know,” said Phonny; “I always keep my promises.”

“Are you willing to agree, that if you make any noise or disturbance in the family with your squirrel, that he is to be forfeited?”

“Forfeited!” said Phonny, “how do you mean?”

“Why, given up to me, to dispose of as I please,” said Wallace.

“And what should you do with him?” asked Phonny.

“I don’t know,” said Wallace. “I should dispose of him in some way, so that he should not be the means of any more trouble. Perhaps I should give him away; perhaps I should open the cage and let him run.”

“Then I think you ought to pay me what I gave for him,” said Phonny.

“No,” said Wallace, “because I don’t take him for any advantage to myself, but only to prevent your allowing him to make trouble. If you make noise and disturbance with him, it is your fault, and you lose the squirrel as the penalty for it. If you do your duty and make no trouble with him, then he would not be forfeited.”

“Well,” said Phonny, “I agree to that. But perhaps you will say that I make a disturbance with him when I don’t.”

“We will have an umpire, then,” said Wallace.

“What is an umpire?” asked Phonny.

“Somebody to decide when there is a dispute,” replied Wallace. “Who shall be the umpire?”

“Beechnut,” said Phonny.

“Agreed,” said Wallace.

“And now there is one point more,” he continued, “and that is, perhaps you will neglect to feed him, and then we shall be uncomfortable, for fear that the squirrel is suffering.”

“No,” said Phonny, shaking his head; “I shall certainly feed him every day, and sometimes twice a day.”