if you'd like it," said Nat, feeling it would be a delicate return for
Tommy's attentions.

"I'd like it ever so much, and I'll give you this one, and they can
live together if they don't fight. Those white mice are Rob's, Franz
gave 'em to him. The rabbits are Ned's, and the bantams outside
are Stuffy's. That box thing is Demi's turtle-tank, only he hasn't
begun to get 'em yet. Last year he had sixty-two, whackers some of
'em. He stamped one of 'em with his name and the year, and let it
go; and he says maybe he will find it ever so long after and know
it. He read about a turtle being found that had a mark on it that
showed it must be hundreds of years old. Demi's such a funny
chap."

"What is in this box?" asked Nat, stopping before a large deep one,
half-full of earth.

"Oh, that's Jack Ford's worm-shop. He digs heaps of 'em and keeps
'em here, and when we want any to go afishing with, we buy some
of him. It saves lots of trouble, only he charged too much for 'em.
Why, last time we traded I had to pay two cents a dozen, and then
got little ones. Jack's mean sometimes, and I told him I'd dig for
myself if he didn't lower his prices. Now, I own two hens, those
gray ones with top knots, first-rate ones they are too, and I sell
Mrs. Bhaer the eggs, but I never ask her more than twenty-five
cents a dozen, never! I'd be ashamed to do it," cried Tommy, with
a glance of scorn at the worm-shop.

"Who owns the dogs?" asked Nat, much interested in these
commercial transactions, and feeling that T. Bangs was a man