He sprang down from the bank as though he had lived there all
his life, like a rabbit, and then moved on towards the village at a
strange shambling pace, straying from side to side of the road and
waving his arms meaninglessly. Suddenly he stopped, and pulling a
squirrel out of his pocket began to play with it, cooing and whistling
to it as it ran over his arms, and chirping when it stopped and threw
its tail over its back. The two seemed to be the very best of friends,
and after playing for some time the man moved on with the squirrel on
his shoulder, drawing closer to the village; when of a sudden the boys
at play in the stream broke into such a storm of yells that he jumped
up on the bank again to look at them, and stood there for a time gaping
and grinning from ear to ear at what he saw.
For the boys had succeeded in driving a little eel into a corner and in
throwing it ashore; and there they were, dancing about like mad
creatures, unable to hold it, more than half afraid to touch it, but
always contriving to twitch the wretched wriggling thing further from
the water. One brave little maid managed for a moment to catch it in
her pinafore but dropped it instantly, as all the boys screamed: "Put
it down! he'll bite 'ee." And so they went on babbling their loudest,
when the ragged man in the road suddenly put the squirrel into his
pocket and ran down into the meadow, laughing louder than the loudest,
to take part in the fun.
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