f candle from his pocket, lit it, and set it in an old
ginger-beer bottle.

The light roused the various occupants of the boxes and cages. That and
the step were suggestive of food, and sundry squeakings and scratchings
arose, with, from time to time, a loud rap on the floor given by one of
the rabbits.

There was a lonely desolate feeling in Dexter's breast as he set the rat
at liberty, for the furtive-looking creature to hurry beneath the boards
which formed the rough floor.

Then the mice were taken out of their box, and the first movement of the
little creatures was to run all over their master, but he hurriedly took
them off him, feeling more miserable than ever, and ready to repent of
the step he was about to take.

The rabbits were carried downstairs, and turned out into the yard,
Dexter having a belief that as they had once grown tame perhaps, many
generations back, they might now as easily grow wild, and if in the
process they made very free with old Dan'l's vegetables, until they
escaped elsewhere, it would not be very serious.

As it was, they crept here and there over the stones for a few moments,
and then went off investigating, and evidently puzzled by their freedom.

The hedgehog and squirrel were brought down together, and carried right
into the garden, where the former was placed upon one of the
flower-beds, and disappeared at once; the latter held up to a branch of
the ornamental spruce, into which it ran, and then there was a scuffling
noise, and Dexter ran away back to the stable, afraid to stop, lest the
little ragged jacketed animal should leap back upon him, and make him
more weak than he was.

He climbed again to the loft, hearing a series of tiny squeaks as he
mounted--squeaks emanating from his mice, and directly after he nearly
crushed the rat, by stepping upon it as the little animal ran up to be
fed.

He had come for the toad and snake, and hurriedly plunging his hand into
the big pot he found Sam the toad, seated right at the top, evidently
eager to start on a nocturnal ramble, but the snake was coiled up
asleep.

It was a curious pet, that toad, but somehow, as it sat nestled up all
of a squat in the boy's warm hand, he felt as if he should like to take
it with him. It was not big, and would take up little room, and cost
nothing to feed.

Why not?

He hesitated as he descended and crossed the yard to the garden, and
decided that he would not. Bob Dimsted might not like it