ne would
suppose, because he has nothing but holes in the ground and old hollow
logs in the woods."

"I know that," said Phonny; "but then I don't think he would like any
house that I could make him, so well as he does the old logs."

"Then I don't know what you will do," said Beechnut, "to make him
contented."

So saying Beechnut went away, leaving Phonny and Stuyvesant together.
They talked a few minutes about the squirrel, and then began to walk
along toward the house.

As they walked along, they heard the bell ring for dinner.

"There," said Phonny, "there is the dinner-bell, what shall we do now?
Where shall I put my squirrel while we are in at dinner?"

"Haven't you got some sort of cage to put him in?" said Stuyvesant.

"No," said Phonny, "I was going to make one after dinner in my shop.
I have got a shop, did you know it?"

"Yes," said Stuyvesant, "Beechnut told me."

"Only my tools are rather dull," added Phonny. "But I think I can make
a cage with them."

"You might put the trap in the shop, on the bench," said Stuyvesant,
"till after dinner, and then make your cage."

"Well," said Phonny, "so I will."

So the two boys went into the shop. The room was indeed in great
confusion. The floor was covered with chips and shavings. The tools
were lying in disorder on the bench. There was a saw-horse in the
middle of the room, tumbled over upon one side, because one of the
legs was out. The handle was out of the hatchet, and one of the claws
of the hammer was broken.

While Stuyvesant was surveying this scene of disorder, Phonny advanced
to the bench, and pushing away the tools from one corner of it, he put
the trap down.

"There!" said he, "he will be safe there till after dinner."

"Only," said Stuyvesant, "he may finish gnawing out."

"I will stop him up," said Phonny.

So saying he took the foreplane, which is a tool formed of a steel
cutter, set in a pretty long and heavy block of wood, and placed it
directly before the hole in the trap. "There!" said he, "now if he
does gnaw the hole big enough, he can't get out, for he can't push the
plane away."

"Perhaps he will be hungry," said Stuyvesant.

"No," said Phonny, "for there was half an ear of corn tied to the
spindle for bait, and he has not eaten but a very little of it yet, I
can see by peeping in."

"Then, perhaps, he will be thirsty," said Stuyvesant.

"I will give him something to drink," said Phonny.

"Yes," said Beechnut.

T