The animal, who had always seemed very much afraid of me--though
I had tried hard to make him feel at home, sat up at once when
the Doctor came into the room and started to chatter. The Doctor
chattered back in the same way and the squirrel when he was
lifted up to have his leg examined, appeared to be rather pleased
than frightened.

I held a candle while the Doctor tied the leg up in what he
called "splints," which he made out of match-sticks with his
pen-knife.

"I think you will find that his leg will get better now in a very
short time," said the Doctor closing up his bag. "Don't let him
run about for at least two weeks yet, but keep him in the open
air and cover him up with dry leaves if the nights get cool. He
tells me he is rather lonely here, all by himself, and is
wondering how his wife and children are getting on. I have
assured him you are a man to be trusted; and I will send a
squirrel who lives in my garden to find out how his family are
and to bring him news of them. He must be kept cheerful at all
costs. Squirrels are naturally a very cheerful, active race. It
is very hard for them to lie still doing nothing. But you needn't
worry about him. He will be all right."

Then we went back again to the parlor and my mother and father
kept him playing the flute till after ten o'clock.

Although my parents both liked the Doctor tremendously from the
first moment that they saw him, and were very proud to have him