"If they are black, and look like leather shoes, I am very sure I should
not like to eat them; so, if you please, Mrs. Frazer, do not let me have
any beavers' tails cooked for my dinner," said the little lady in a very
decided tone.

"Indeed, my lady," replied her nurse, smiling, "it would not be an easy
thing to obtain, if you wished to taste one, for beavers are not brought
to our market. It is only the Indians and hunters who know how to trap
them, and beavers are not so plentiful as they used to be."

Mrs. Frazer would have told Lady Mary a great deal about the way in which
the trappers take the beavers, but the little girl interrupted her by
saying, "Please, nurse, will you tell me the name of your pretty pet? Ah,
sweet thing! what bright eyes you have!" she added, caressing the soft
little head which was just seen from beneath the folds of the muslin
handkerchief to which it timidly nestled, casting furtive glances at the
admiring child, while the panting of its breast told the mortal terror
that shook its frame whenever the little girl's hand was advanced to coax
its soft back.

"It is a flying squirrel, Lady Mary," replied her nurse; "one of my
brothers caught it a month ago, when he was chopping in the forest. He
thought it might amuse your ladyship, and so he tamed it and sent it to me
in a basket filled with moss, with some acorns, and hickory-nuts, and
beech-mast for him to eat on his journey, for the little fellow has
travelled a long way: he came from the beech-woods near the town of
Coburg, in the Upper Province."

"And where is Coburg, nurse? Is it a large city like Montreal or Quebec?"