CHAPTER IV.

SQUIRRELS--THE CHITMUNKS-DOCILITY OF A PET ONE--ROGUERY OF A YANKEE
PEDLAR--RETURN OF THE MUSICAL CHITMUNK TO HIS MASTER'S BOSOM--SAGACITY OF
A BLACK SQUIRREL.


"Mrs. Frazer, are you very busy just now?" asked Lady Mary, coming up to
the table where her nurse was ironing some lace.

"No, my dear, not very busy, only preparing these lace edgings for your
frocks. Do you want me to do anything for you?"

"I only want to tell you that my governess has promised to paint my dear
squirrel's picture, as soon as it is tame, and will let me hold it in my
lap, without flying away. I saw a picture of a flying squirrel to-day, but
it was very ugly--not at all like mine; it was long and flat, and its legs
looked like sticks, and it was stretched out, just like one of those
muskrat skins that you pointed out to me in a fur store. Mamma said it was
drawn so, to show it while it was in the act of flying; but it is not
pretty--it does not show its beautiful tail, nor its bright eyes, nor
soft silky fur. I heard a lady tell mamma about a nest full of dear, tiny
little flying squirrels; [Footnote: Tame flying squirrels may be purchased
at the Pantheon, in Oxford Street.] that her brother once found in a tree
in the forest; he tamed them, and they lived very happily together, and
would feed from his hand. They slept in the cold weather like dormice; in
the day-time they lay very still, but would come out, and gambol, and
frisk about at night. But somebody left the cage open, and they all ran