ttle it that way, after a great deal of
talking. You can't imagine, Ring-tail, how queer it makes me feel to
be divided up in such a fashion. Sometimes I puzzle over it until I am
dizzy. Which of me belongs to Stuart, and which of me belongs to
Phil?

CHAPTER III.

WHAT THE MIRROR-MONKEY HEARD ON WEDNESDAY.

Do you see any gray hairs in my fur, Ring-tail, or any new wrinkles in
my face? Life in this family is such a wear and tear on the nerves
that I feel that I am growing old fast. So much happens every day.
Something is always happening here. Really, I have had more exciting
experiences in one short forenoon, here in this house, than I used to
have in a whole month in the Zoo. It is bad for me to be in such a
state of constant fright.

The day after I was divided between Phil and Stuart, the boys of the
neighbourhood had a Cuban war in our back yard. At least they started
to have one,--built a camp-fire and put up a tent and got their
ammunition ready. Each side made a great pile of soft mud-balls, and
it was agreed that as soon as a soldier was hit and spotted by the
moist clinging stuff he was to be counted dead. You see the sport was
not dangerous, only dirty.

Stuart had his coat off, rolling mud-balls with all his might and
main. He was plastered with mud to his elbows, and his face was a
sight.

Phil was busy sweeping up dead leaves for the camp-fire. Suddenly he
dropped his old broom and went trotting off toward the house. "I am
going to get something that will make it sound like a real war," he
said to me as he left. The boys did not hear him, and he came back
presently, with his little blue blouse all pouched out in front with
the things he had stuffed inside of it.

I followed him into the tent and watched him unload. First there was
the old powder-horn that always hangs over the hall mantelpiece. Then
there was a big, wide-necked bottle, a large, clean handkerchief, and
a spool of thread. "You see this, Dago?" he said to me. "Now you watch
and see what happens."

He tore the hem off the handkerchief, poured a lot of powder into the
middle of the square that was left, and then drew the corners together
in one hand. With the other hand he squeezed the powder into a ball
in the middle of the handkerchief, and wrapped the thread around and
around above it to keep the wad in place.

"Now I'll put the wad of powder into the bottle," he said, "and leave
the ends of the cloth sticking out for a