"Grey, Zane - Betty Zane" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grey Zane)

her hand, his great, bushy white tail arching over his back and his small pink
eyes shining.

"There! Listen," said Betty. "Look at the fox squirrel, the big brownish red
one. I call him the Captain, because he always wants to boss the others. I had
another fox squirrel, older than this fellow, and he ran things to suit
himself, until one day the grays united their forces and routed him. I think
they would have killed him had I not freed him. Well, this one is commencing
the same way. Do you hear that odd clicking noise? That comes from the
Captain's teeth, and he is angry and jealous because I show so much attention
to this one. He always does that, and he would fight too if I were not
careful. It is a singular fact, though, that the white squirrel has not even a
little pugnacity. He either cannot fight, or he is too well behaved. Here, Mr.
Clarke, show Snowball this nut, and then hide it in your pocket, and see him
find it."

Alfred did as he was told, except that while he pretended to put the nut in
his pocket he really kept it concealed in his hand.

The pet squirrel leaped lightly on Alfred's shoulder, ran over his breast,
peeped in all his pockets, and even pushed his cap to one side of his head.
Then he ran down Alfred's arm, sniffed in his coat sleeve, and finally wedged
a cold little nose between his closed fingers.

"There, he has found it, even though you did not play fair," said Betty,
laughing gaily.

Alfred never forgot the picture Betty made standing there with the red cap on
her dusky hair, and the loving smile upon her face as she talked to her pets.
A white fan-tail pigeon had alighted on her shoulder and was picking daintily
at the piece of cracker she held between her lips. The squirrels were all
sitting up, each with a nut in his little paws, and each with an alert and
cunning look in the corner of his eye, to prevent, no doubt, being surprised
out of a portion of his nut. Caesar was lying on all fours, growling and
tearing at his breakfast, while the dog looked on with a superior air, as if
he knew they would not have had any breakfast but for him.

"Are you fond of canoeing and fishing?" asked Betty, as they returned to the
house.

"Indeed I am. Isaac has taken me out on the river often. Canoeing may be
pleasant for a girl, but I never knew one who cared for fishing."

"Now you behold one. I love dear old Izaak Walton. Of course, you have read
his books?"

"I am ashamed to say I have not."

"And you say you are a fisherman? Well, you haste a great pleasure in store,
as well as an opportunity to learn something of the 'contemplative man's