sat down on his head again. Have to do something to break him of that. One
of these days, he'd be getting too big for it.

In a few minutes, the rest of the family came in, chasing and pummeling
each other and yeeking happily. Mamma jumped off his lap and joined the
free-for-all, and then Baby took off from his head and landed on Mamma's
back. And he thought he'd lost his Little Fuzzy, and, gosh, here he had
five Fuzzies and a Baby Fuzzy. When they were tired romping, he made beds
for them in the living room, and brought out Little Fuzzy's bedding and
his treasures. One Little Fuzzy in the bedroom was just fine; five and a
Baby Fuzzy were a little too much of a good thing.

They were swarming over the bed, Baby and all, to waken him the next
morning.

* * * * *

The next morning he made a steel chopper-digger for each of them, and half
a dozen extras for replacements in case more Fuzzies showed up. He also
made a miniature ax with a hardwood handle, a handsaw out of a piece of
broken power-saw blade and half a dozen little knives forged in one piece
from quarter-inch coil-spring material. He had less trouble trading the
Fuzzies' own things away from them than he had expected. They had a very
keen property sense, but they knew a good deal when one was offered. He
put the wooden and horn and bone and stone artifacts away in the desk
drawer. Start of the Holloway Collection of Zarathustran Fuzzy Weapons and
Implements. Maybe he'd will it to the Federation Institute of
Xeno-Sciences.

Of course, the family had to try out the new chopper-diggers on