fore he went to school. He came, admired me greatly, and,
after tea, said he would play with me. The window happened to be
up, so, while they were talking, and not looking at him, he slily
put me into his pocket, buttoned it, and giving a great shriek,
said I had jumped out of the window. Poor Isabella Huntley was
very much vexed. He said there was no hopes of getting it, as it
travelled at such a rate, he supposed it would be ten or twelve
miles off by the next day. He told truth, for, as he was going
the next day, he would be much farther than twelve miles; and so
should I also, as I went in his pocket. He soon after took his
leave, leaving Isabella very sorrowful, little thinking where
her squirrel was. He went to school very early the next day, and
I travelled all the way in his pocket. Luckily I found a few
cherries and a cake, or most probably I should not have lived to
my journey's end. We arrived at the Rev. Mr. Clarkson's academy, I
cannot tell at what time; let it suffice, that when he got there,
he took me out, and tied a piece of string round my neck, while he
showed me to his schoolfellows! He then asked, if any body had a
cage to sell. They none of them had one, except one boy, who came
and said he would sell his, but that it would put him to a great
inconvenience, as he had a bird in it at present, and could not
sell it under three shillings; for he knew Eaton would buy it, let
it cost what it would. He therefore tried to make the most of it.
Eaton paid him the money, and put me in it. Here I had to perform
my tricks before all the boys, four or five times a day, and was
liable to all the insults they chose to bestow upon me. Indeed,
a boy did once hit me a terrible blow with an apple. In about a
week, the money Eaton had brought with him to school, was all
gone; he then had recourse to selling me. He offered me in my cage
for two shillings. Nobody would give it. At last a boy came to him
and offered tenpence for me. Eaton, in a rage, hit him a box on
the ear, and sent the boy away crying. At last, finding nobody
would give more, he went to the boy he had struck, whose name
was Bentley, asked his pardon, and said he should have me for
tenpence. Bentley now refused, saying, that as he had been struck,
he would give no more than sixpence. At this time, the man who
used to come with cakes and apples for the boys to buy, came
into the play-ground. Eaton took up a tart, and holding his hand
out to Bentley, sa