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Title: The Squirrel's Pilgrim's Progress

Author: J. D. Williams

Illustrator: H. Wood

Release date: September 23, 2017 [eBook #55609]

Language: English

Credits: Produced by MFR, Craig Kirkwood, and the Online Distributed
        Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This book was
        produced from images made available by the HathiTrust
        Digital Library.)


*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SQUIRREL'S PILGRIM'S PROGRESS ***




Produced by MFR, Craig Kirkwood, and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This book was
produced from images made available by the HathiTrust
Digital Library.)






Transcriber’s Notes:

Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_).

Additional Transcriber’s Notes are at the end.

       *       *       *       *       *

Tiny Redsquirrel

       *       *       *       *       *




_The_ SQUIRREL’S PILGRIM’S PROGRESS


  _A Book for Boys and Girls_

  BY J. D. WILLIAMS

  Setting Forth the Adventures of Tiny Red Squirrel and Chatty Chipmunk

  And describing Miss Hare’s School; Red Squirrel, Chipmunk, Reynard
  Fox, Pussy Cat, and Other Students, as well as Mr. Wise Owl, a
  Director of the School, and Billy Beaver, the Janitor.

  FIFTY ILLUSTRATIONS BY H. WOOD (FIVE COLORED PLATES)

  [Illustration]

  CHICAGO LAIRD & LEE, Inc., PUBLISHERS

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: COPYRIGHT, 1915, BY LAIRD & LEE, Inc.]

       *       *       *       *       *

  And Nature, the old nurse, took
    The child upon her knee.
  Saying, “Here is a story-book
    Thy father has written for thee.”
             --Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.

Once on a time a little boy was taken from the noise and bustle of city
life to a sparsely settled land where a great forest stretched away in
every direction. To this land his parents came to make a home in the
heart of the deep wood. A large log house had been built in an open
space from which great oaks, beeches, maples and other trees had been
removed, and here, surrounded by nature’s forms and activities, they
lived many years.

What a delightful experience this was to this little boy! How wonderful
this new world seemed to him! Here were flowers of every hue, bees,
birds, butterflies, and many other interesting things to excite his
childish wonder. He soon learned the names of the shrubs, the trees,
the wild fruits and the flowers; and the habits of the honey gatherers,
the feathered folk, and the little animals of the wood.

This story has its foundation in these experiences and was written
in the hope that it will prove interesting and instructive to many
children. It teaches its young readers to see material things as they
really are, so that the early impressions shall always be the true
ones; it teaches them to apply the same habit of careful observation
to language forms and constructions, so they shall know how thoughts
must be expressed, and more than that, how they may be expressed
beautifully. It is believed that it will influence them to observe
nature’s works closely--the beauty in the dense foliage of spring,
in the myriad forms of life, in nest building and bird music, in the
vitality of growth, in the sweet beneficence of the universal mother,
so that they may come to know

  “There are tongues in trees,
   Books in the running brooks,
   Sermons in stones,
   And good in everything.”

Acknowledgments are due to Wilber Hershel Williams for assistance
in the preparation of this volume; to Frances Squire Potter, James
S. Greenwood, and Z. C. Spencer for literary criticism and helpful
suggestions.

J. D. W.




CONTENTS


  CHAPTER                                  PAGE

      I. INTRODUCING TINY REDSQUIRREL         7

     II. TINY GOES TO SEEK WINTER STORES     12

    III. HIS FIRST ADVENTURE                 17

     IV. INTRODUCING MR. WISE OWL            23

      V. A LESSON FROM THE ANTS              30

     VI. MEETING MR. FROG                    34

    VII. HIS ADVENTURE WITH QUEEN BEE        37

   VIII. THE PORCUPINE SCARES TINY           44

     IX. MEETING WITH THE BLACK GIANT        49

      X. TINY THE HERO OF SQUIRRELTOWN       58

     XI. THE MAYOR CALLS ON TINY             65

    XII. MR. OWL INTERRUPTS A SPEECH         69

   XIII. HE TAKES TINY TO SCHOOL             77

    XIV. TINY GETS ACQUAINTED                85

     XV. SCHOOL DAYS EXPERIENCES             95

    XVI. MR. OWL VISITS THE SCHOOL          101

   XVII. TINY’S CORRESPONDENCE              108

  XVIII. MISS HARE ON GRAMMAR               116

    XIX. STUDYING NATURE                    124

     XX. TINY HELPS WITH TEACHER’S LETTERS  134

    XXI. OPOSSUM AND CATERPILLAR            140

   XXII. GRADUATION EXERCISES               147

  XXIII. THE STUDENTS START FOR HOME        158

   XXIV. TINY IS APPOINTED MAYOR            168




LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS


  Squirreltown               _Frontispiece_

  Go Away!                                9

  How Can You Sleep On a Day Like This?  12

  Splash! Chatty Fell Into the Creek     16

  Tiny and Chatty Meet the Raccoon       19

  Tiny Meets Mr. Owl                     23

  Watching the Ants Build a House        31

  Learns a Lesson from the Spider        34

  Meeting with Mr. Toad                  36

  Rescues the Queen Bee                  37

  “Hist!” Cried the Ogre                 45

  Tiny Conquers the Porcupine            47

  The Bear Falls from the Tree           51

  The Bees Rescue Tiny from the Bear     54

  Tiny Returns to Squirreltown           58

  Brings Food to His Hungry Mother       60

  Tiny Is Ill--The Mayor Calls           65

  The Story of the Fable                 68

  Tiny Makes a Speech                    69

  Mr. Owl Lectures Tiny                  71

  He Takes Tiny to School                78

  Mr. Beaver Shows Tiny to His Room      80

  Tiny Meets Mr. Redfox                  82

  The Janitor Awakens the Pupils         85

  Miss Hare’s School                     87

  Tiny Gives Miss Hare an Acorn          90

  Tiny and Winkie Run a Race             95

  Tiny Prepares for Graduation          101

  The Owl Prophet Visits the School     103

  He Hardly Knew Tiny                   106

  The Pigeon Mail Carrier               108

  Reynard Is Sick                       116

  Chatty Chipmunk Appears               125

  The Panther Gives Them a Scare        126

  Mrs. Badger and the Bees              128

  Tiny Assists the Teacher              134

  Mr. Opossum                           141

  Shifty Woodchuck Wants Help           148

  Sammy Rabbit’s Composition            151

  Tiny’s Speech Wins the Prize          155

  The Encounter with the Lynx           162

  In Deertown                           164

  Running from a Wildcat                166

  Celebration in Squirreltown           172

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: SQUIRRELTOWN.]

       *       *       *       *       *

Tiny Redsquirrel




CHAPTER I.


Have you ever heard of Squirreltown? It is a town of quaint homes in
the woods, in which little animals live together as contentedly as
though they were human beings. The whole town is roofed over by leafy
bowers, and carpeted with wild flowers. All day long butterflies flit
about in the shimmering sunlight, and by night thousands of fairies
come out to dance in the pale moonlight.

In this town there once dwelt a young red squirrel named Tiny. He lived
with his mother near the top of an oak tree. Mrs. Redsquirrel was a
poor but industrious widow. Although red squirrels are said to be the
most mischievous animals of the forest, she had taught Tiny to conduct
himself in a proper way. In fact, he was much better behaved than
Chatty Chipmunk, who lived in the ground at the foot of the tree.

One morning early in the autumn, while the weather was yet warm, Tiny’s
mother said to him, “You must bestir yourself, Tiny! Now is the time to
gather acorns, seeds, and other food for the winter.”

As he sat sipping water from a hollow acorn, he observed how anxiously
his mother gazed at him. “Why do you look so sad?” he asked.

“I am getting too old to work,” she answered, and she wiped the tears
from her black eyes. Then abruptly she turned to look through the
window. It was a small hole covered with a silken curtain that had been
woven by a spider.

“Please don’t cry, mother,” implored Tiny. He put down his acorn, went
over to his mother and drew her down upon a little couch made of moss.
“I am willing to work hard to support you. Perhaps some day I shall
become great. Who can tell?”

“But I want you to have a fine education,” said his mother, looking
with pride at her son, “and we have no good schools!”

“Perhaps a fairy may find me a good school. I can work to pay my way!”
cheerfully suggested Tiny. “I have heard that those who do this make
the best students.” He fanned his mother with a small peacock feather.
He thought that she might drop into a doze, for he knew that she had
not been sleeping much of late, but just then a persistent rapping at
the tree began.

“It must be Mr. Woodpecker,” said Mrs. Redsquirrel with a sigh. “Every
day he comes over to rap this tree. The noise makes my head ache.”

“Please sit still. I’ll go outside to see what he wants,” said Tiny,
hastening from the room.

“Hello!” he cried lustily.

Mr. Woodpecker did not answer. He was digging his long, straight,
pointed beak into the bark of the tree. His stiff tail was spread out
to prop his body, for woodpeckers would not be such good climbers if
they had no tails. He was black and white, and wore a jaunty scarlet
cap.

“Sir,” said Tiny, “You annoy my mother. Furthermore, Mr. Graysquirrel,
who owns this tree, will make you pay dearly for all the damage you are
doing to his property.”

“Ha, ha!” laughed Mr. Woodpecker, turning his head to one side and
looking down at the squirrel. “I am not destroying property. I am
digging into the bark to find insects. Mr. Graysquirrel, your landlord,
told me that I might have all I could find. He said it was they who
greatly annoy his tenants. Pardon me for disturbing your mother.”

[Illustration: “GO AWAY AND DO NOT COME BACK AGAIN,” COMMANDED TINY.]

“Go away! and do not come back again,” commanded Tiny, vexed at the
bird’s display of good humor. “Hush, Tiny!” called Mrs. Redsquirrel,
thrusting her dainty nose through the window. “I am glad that Mr.
Woodpecker is so kind as to destroy those horrid insects. I thought at
first that he was tapping the tree because he wished to trouble me. We
animals are always ready to imagine disagreeable things.”

Tiny came back into the house and to cover his chagrin began to get the
storeroom in order.

His mother gathered up the nut-shell cups and placed them in a
hollow gourd. As they worked she talked. “Mr. Woodpecker is a clever
creature,” she said. “I never before saw a bird that could use his bill
with such ease and swiftness.”

Tiny did not reply. He was thinking very hard, and the idea that he was
going to support his mother made him feel very important.

“Woodpeckers do a great deal of good by destroying grubs and insects,”
his mother went on. “I have heard that in a far-away land there lives
one kind that feeds chiefly on acorns, and stores them away for the
winter as squirrels do. They make small holes in the soft bark of dead
trees and place the acorns in these holes by pounding them with their
bills.”

“Now I am ready to start,” interrupted Tiny. “Perhaps I can get Chatty
Chipmunk to go with me.”

“If you do, don’t let him lead you into bad company!” warned Mrs.
Redsquirrel. “He is very mischievous. He causes his parents much
trouble.”

At that moment Peggy and Bushy Graysquirrel came running into the
room, without stopping to knock at the door.

“Good morning, Mrs. Redsquirrel,” said Peggy.

“We are going over to the Beech Hotel to spend the day with the
Blacksquirrel family,” said Bushy, too much excited to draw a long
breath. “Come along with us, Tiny. We will play ripple.”

“What is ripple?” asked Mrs. Redsquirrel.

“Oh, it is a fine game!” exclaimed Peggy. “All the squirrels get out on
the bough of a tree. Each one throws a nut or a pebble into the brook,
and the one that makes the biggest circle gets the prize.”

“Do you want to go, Tiny?” asked his mother.

“No, mother,” said Tiny bravely. “I like to play ripple, but I must
gather our winter store before the cold rains begin.”

“Please come with us,” coaxed pretty Bushy, flashing her dark eyes
straight into his own.

“I cannot go,” he declared stolidly, turning his back upon her.

“Is he really going to work?” asked Bushy, looking from one to the
other in a bewildered way.

“Yes, I am going,” replied Tiny, and he took down his hunting bag from
the wall.

Another moment a little red squirrel ran down the tree and was lost to
view.




CHAPTER II.


Tiny went to the home of Chatty Chipmunk. The Chipmunks do not like the
trees or the air or the sunshine as the Redsquirrel family do. Like
most animals of their kind, they live in the ground.

Tiny entered the door and passed through a hall several feet in length.
At the further end of the hall was a small opening which led to a room
but little larger than the shell of a cocoanut. Chatty was alone, fast
asleep.

[Illustration: “HOW CAN YOU SLEEP ON A BEAUTIFUL DAY LIKE THIS?”]

“How can you sleep on a beautiful day like this!” cried Tiny, playfully
pulling Chatty’s whiskers.

“I was only taking a nap,” sleepily responded Chatty. “My parents and
brothers are out in the beech trees. I wanted to have a good rest, so
I stayed at home. I cannot sleep well at night, because our house is
crowded.”

“I am going out to gather our winter store,” said Tiny. “Don’t you want
to come with me?”

“I should very much like to go, thank you,” returned Chatty, although
he had refused to go with his family. “But you see, I cannot work hard
when I work, though I can work hard when I play.”

They soon left the chipmunk home and started forth on their journey.
They had not gone very far before Chatty began to complain.

“The sun is very warm, and it makes me drowsy,” said he. “How I do
dislike to work! I am glad that I am not a beaver, for beavers work all
the time.”

“I should think you would wish to help your family,” said Tiny. “What
will become of you in the winter if you do not have plenty of food?”

“I will sleep all the time,” replied the chipmunk, yawning drowsily.

He was about to lie down to rest, when he espied a great yellow
butterfly with wings that shone like gold. She was fast asleep upon a
thistle.

Chatty dashed after her, but she flew from thistle to bush and flower,
not at all frightened. After he had tired himself running, he sat down,
panting.

“Your winter store will soon be gathered if you spend as much energy
in working as you have in running,” said Tiny, his eyes twinkling.

“It is great sport to chase butterflies,” said Chatty. “They are such
stupid creatures, yet they are very pretty. Who ever heard of sleeping
on a thistle?”

“I think it would be much more comfortable than to sleep in a hole in
the ground,” replied Tiny. “Mother said that butterflies always seem
to match the seasons.” Tiny, without knowing it, began to imitate his
mother’s voice and her way of talking. He spoke more slowly than she
did, however, for he was trying hard to remember all she had told him
about the pretty things. “When the world is still brown and bleak and
the spring sun is beginning to warm things into life, the brown and
black butterflies come. Then, when the violets spread carpets over the
vales and in the woodlands, the blue butterflies appear. In summer
come the queenly swallow-tail butterflies, clad in red, copper, and
burnished silver. Often one dressed in pure white may be seen, for
white is very comfortable to wear in warm weather. It reflects the hot
rays of the sun. In the autumn the yellow and orange butterflies are
more numerous. They are the color of the goldenrod and the sunflowers
and the brown-eyed Susans. The yellow butterflies like to sip the honey
from the yellow flowers, but the white butterflies seem to prefer the
white clover. They are the most beautiful of all insects. Their four
wings are colored on both sides. When they rest, their wings stand
straight up and do not fold.”

“Butterflies are very queer animals,” said Chatty ungraciously. He was
vexed with butterflies, because he knew so little about them. “Why do
they sleep with their wings held high above their heads? I should think
they would get so sound asleep that they would forget to hold them up.”

“It is natural for them to hold up their wings,” laughed Tiny. “Do you
forget to breathe when you are sound asleep?”

“Of course not,” retorted Chatty, “nor do I forget to eat when I am
hungry. However, I cannot see why the butterfly sleeps in such a silly
position.”

“Some of them slowly open and shut their wings all the time they are
asleep,” explained Tiny. “I never knew another creature that sleeps
so gracefully as the butterfly does. I would rather take a nap on a
thistle in the sunshine than roll up in a fluffy ball and sleep in a
dark hole in the ground. You must not criticise those whose customs are
different from yours. Perhaps the butterfly is quite as much amused at
you.”

“There she goes again!” cried Chatty, suddenly. “I wish I were a
flying-squirrel, that I might catch her. Wait a moment until I frighten
her again.”

Chatty began to chase the butterfly once more. He was accustomed to
running without looking where he was going, so he did not see the
danger that awaited him.

[Illustration: SPLASH! CHATTY FELL INTO THE CREEK AND DISAPPEARED FROM
SIGHT.]

Splash! Chatty fell into the creek and disappeared from sight. The
butterfly flew safely across the stream.

Tiny was not alarmed, for he knew that his companion could swim. Soon
the chipmunk’s little nose appeared above the water. After a great deal
of splashing, he reached the bank of the stream, very much chagrined.

“I think I must have been more scared than the butterfly was,” he
admitted, as he shook his fur. “I am as tired as I can be and as wet as
a fish. Where is the butterfly?”

“Over on yonder blue-flag, fast asleep,” said Tiny.




CHAPTER III.


Chatty smiled foolishly and Tiny laughed heartily. The butterfly rested
a long time. Then she flew away. The birds chattered gayly as the sun
smiled brightly. The brook gurgled with glee and flowed merrily on.
The chipmunk seemed wide awake after his drenching. For a half hour he
scurried briskly along.

“Not far away some fine blackberries grow on low bushes,” he said. “We
will find them and feast until dusk. When we become sleepy we will nap
for a while.”

“We have wandered from our path,” protested Tiny. “We are lost!”

“Nonsense!” exclaimed Chatty. “Someone will show us the way home.
Squirreltown is the greatest city in the world.”

“Do you remember those hunters who passed through Squirreltown not long
ago?” asked Tiny. “They said that London is the largest city in the
world. The East contains many great cities.”

“You are dreaming,” laughed the chipmunk. “I have heard of every large
city. Squirreltown has the most inhabitants, and Gray Fox Center comes
next. How many squirrels live in London?”

“London is filled with people, not with squirrels. Those hunters that
frightened us the other day are people. They live in houses,” explained
Tiny.

“How I should dislike London!” cried Chatty. “Do all people look as
fierce as those hunters? I thought that hunters dwelt in holes in the
ground. I supposed that they played in the trees and wandered about
with huge guns and frightened little animals for amusement. I imagine
that people must look very much like bears.”

“Many of them do,” assented Tiny with a wise nod. “However, they do
not walk on four legs, but straight up like storks. We must roam no
farther. Let us gather these beech nuts and collect them in little
heaps.”

“No, indeed,” said his companion, as he rose from his couch. “I want
some blackberries.”

“O Chatty, an odd-looking animal comes from the trunk of that hollow
tree. It is a bear!” cried Tiny.

“Oh!” gasped Chatty. His eyes opened wide with fear and surprise. “We
must hide.”

For a moment they gazed at the stranger who stood before them. He
sniffed the grass that grew around a stump, but watched them steadily.
The little foragers remained quite still and struggled for courage.

[Illustration: THE LITTLE FORAGERS REMAINED QUITE STILL AND STRUGGLED
FOR COURAGE.]

“Be calm,” said the queer creature in a friendly voice. “I am hunting
for something green and tender. Fear not, for I never attack such small
creatures as you.”

“What are you, sir?” asked Tiny, remembering his mother’s instructions
to speak courteously.

“I am a raccoon and I live in that hollow tree,” said the animal. “I
once dwelt in a village which lies a hundred miles away. Leachburg is
its name. The inhabitants called me Brother Raccoon. My given name
is Sambo, my wife’s name is Serena, and we named our sons Simon and
Solomon. Formerly I was a pet in a family of people. While with them I
learned a number of pretty names for children, as well as many other
things.”

“Tell us something about people,” requested Tiny, drawing nearer. At
last he stood face to face with the raccoon.

“People live a long time if they take good care of their health,”
began Brother Raccoon. “The baby of this family was four years of age.”

Tiny and Chatty laughed outright. The speaker smiled good-naturedly.

“He was surely a backward baby,” chuckled Chatty. “The mayor of
Squirreltown is four years of age and he is very old.”

“Little people are generally happy,” continued the raccoon. “They have
everything their hearts desire. I wish that my little ones had such
good fortune. Alas! we watch Simon and Solomon all the time. They
seldom go out of the house except after night. Little people stay
indoors all night, but little raccoons do not.”

“What lovely times little raccoons must have!” cried Chatty. “If I
were one of them I would run about all night, especially when it is
moonlight. Mother sends me to bed before sunset.”

“No one has more anxiety than a raccoon,” declared the stranger. He
blinked his eyes, which were black and shiny. There were white rings
around them. “Our midnight prowls often cause us great trouble.
Sometimes the raccoons go into the cornfields. While they are eating
corn, a pack of dogs appears and drives them back to the woods. Before
the poor raccoons can hide, the men with their guns attack them.”

“You should not steal the farmer’s corn,” reproved Tiny. “Thieves
deserve punishment.”

“Yes, but the farmer does not treat us right,” replied the raccoon
bitterly. “He steals our fur and eats our flesh. He deceives us and
slays us. He does all sorts of mean things.”

“I am sorry for you,” said Tiny. “Why should little animals of the
forest suffer from the acts of mankind? Are you never safe from harm?”

“No,” continued the raccoon. “Our flesh and fur are so fine that these
terrible people hunt for us by day and by night. One evening I was in a
field of corn which was green and tempting. A party of noisy creatures
called boys came to the field. They chased me back into the forest.
I was so little that I stumbled and fell. A dog caught me. Before he
could hurt me, a small boy seized me and carried me in a bag to his
home. He placed me in a cage.

“The boy’s name was Teddy Root. He greatly admired my dainty feet and
grayish-brown fur. I became so tame that they gave me much freedom. I
soon lost my fear of people. Sometimes they scolded me, because I stole
into the pantry and helped myself to milk, sugar, lard, and butter. I
did not know that I had done wrong. Teddy took cookies from the pantry
without first asking his mother’s permission, so I thought I could do
so, too. However, I yearned for my home in the deep forest. One day I
ran away.

“I wandered a long time before I found the stump that had sheltered me
during my early days. My family had departed. I was alone, but I made
the old house comfortable, and soon forgot my troubles. I preferred a
stump to a gilded cage. One night a party of raccoons went out on an
excursion to a cornfield. They took me with them. It was then that I
met my mate, Serena. Life is happier now than it ever has been before.”

“We thank you for the story of your life,” said Tiny. “Now show us the
way to Squirreltown.”

“I have never heard of such a place,” replied the raccoon, after he had
thought hard for a few moments.

“It is the largest city in the world and it is a very important one,
too,” snapped Chatty. He was vexed at the stranger’s ignorance.

“You are wrong,” said the raccoon as he shook his head doubtfully. “I
know that Coontown is much larger. You must ask some other animal to
show you the way.”

“Thank you,” said Tiny. He never forgot the value of politeness,
although Chatty often did. “We must hasten home.”

“Oh, why did you speak about those blackberries?” he continued, as he
turned to Chatty. “We have lost our way. I fear dear mother grieves for
me.”

“It was no fault of mine that Mr. Raccoon stopped us to tell the stupid
story of his life,” retorted Chatty. “See the acorns under the tree.
Some kind fairy knew that we were coming and threw them down.”

Chatty ate greedily, while Tiny swiftly climbed to the top of a huge
oak tree and gazed all about him. Nowhere could he see the friendly
treetops of Squirreltown.




CHAPTER IV.


Tiny sat for a long time in the top of the tree and looked away as far
as his eyes could see. In the distance rose the big yellow moon. It
shone brightly upon the treetops of the great forest, yet he could not
see Squirreltown.

At last he began to descend slowly, almost frightening to death a tree
toad that was hopping about on its little velvet toes among the green
branches.

[Illustration: TINY’S BUSHY TAIL STIFFENED WITH FRIGHT.]

Tiny’s bushy tail stiffened with fright when he heard a loud, whirring
sound and a shrill cry from the branch over his head. Two big yellow
eyes glared at him through the dense foliage. They scared him so that
he could not scamper away.

“Hoot! hoot!” cried the dreadful creature. “Why are you prowling around
my castle at this time of night? Don’t you know that I am a horned owl?
I like to eat rabbits, squirrels, and mice.”

“I did not mean to disturb you, sir,” said Tiny politely, although
his teeth chattered and his limbs refused to move. “My name is Tiny
Redsquirrel. I have lost my way. Can you tell me where to find
Squirreltown?”

“I wish I knew where it is,” said the owl, “for it wouldn’t take me
long to put an end to it. Come closer that we may have a little chat. I
like squirrels.”

“Mr. Owl, I know that it would not be prudent for me to get closer to
you,” said Tiny, without moving a step. “I want everyone to like me,
but I do not want them to like me well enough to eat me.”

“Well spoken!” cried the owl, clapping his wings and screeching loudly.
“A fairy told me, Tiny, that you were coming to my castle. I promised
her that I would not hurt you. Tell me what gift you desire above all
things else.”

“A good education,” replied Tiny promptly.

“Fine!” exclaimed the owl. “Of course, squirrels cannot expect to know
very much. Red squirrels are too mischievous to learn a great deal.
They worry robins in their nests, frighten field mice, steal from the
farmer’s granary, and spring the traps that hunters set for martens.
Can you tell me who is the wisest of all living creatures?”

“I think it must be the donkey,” said Tiny after hesitating a few
moments.

“The donkey is as stupid as a stump,” said the owl impatiently. “What
makes you think that the donkey is the wisest of all creatures?”

“An animal that makes so much noise must be very wise,” answered the
innocent squirrel.

“When you are older, you will learn that the wisest creatures seldom
make any noise at all,” said the owl with a sage toss of his head. “The
donkey is most unlike the animal that represents wisdom, and he--”

“Perhaps the wisest animal is the loon,” interrupted the squirrel.

Tiny had never heard the expression “crazy as a loon,” or he would not
have made such an absurd guess.

The owl laughed again. “Poor little squirrel,” he continued, “you are
much in need of an education, and I will help you to realize your wish.
An old loon lives two hundred yards from here in some dry muck on the
ruins of an old muskrat house. Whenever she tries to avoid danger, she
always runs the wrong way and jumps into it. Her legs are placed so
far back beneath her body that she cannot walk very long at a time
without toppling over. When she swims, she makes more noise than a
family of beavers. She screeches all the time, and consequently gets
no opportunity to think. You know that to be wise one must be a quiet
thinker. No, the loon is as dull as the donkey.”

“Then who is the wisest of all creatures?” asked Tiny, growing more and
more interested.

“Have you never heard that the owl is the symbol of wisdom?” asked the
curious creature. “There is nothing I do not know.”

“Then perhaps you can tell me where Squirreltown is situated,” said
Tiny, eagerly.

“I do not know,” replied the owl, glaring at Tiny until he again lost
courage. “I do not fill my mind with useless knowledge, since there are
so many important things to know. How ridiculous of you to ask me such
a question! You might just as well ask why the moon, although not so
large as a pumpkin, can light up this great world of ours. There are
many things that learned students cannot explain so ordinary creatures
can understand. I believe, however, that if you live long enough and
keep traveling all the time, you may find Squirreltown one of these
days.”

“This is no time for jesting,” burst forth Tiny, his heart sinking. “I
greatly desire to get home. I started out to gather our winter store in
this hunting-bag, but I got lost. Mother must be quite tired looking
for me.”

“Your mother need not wear her eyes out _looking_ for you, since you
are surely old enough to _see_ for yourself,” retorted the owl.

Tiny said that he must hasten on.

“Do not be in a hurry, my restless quadruped,” said the owl. “Squirrels
are always in a hurry. You are very nervous animals. It makes me dizzy
to look at you. I am the wisest creature of the forest, yet you do not
choose to tarry long enough to get some useful information. Do you
still desire an education, or have you changed your mind?”

“I want to get home,” sobbed Tiny.

“I will see that your wish is granted,” said the owl, more kindly.
“What else do you wish?”

“I wish to grow up to be a useful squirrel. I want to make my mother
and everybody else happy.”

The owl asked him what more he desired.

“That is all,” was the reply.

“Then do as I say,” commanded the owl. “Before you can become truly
wise, you must learn the lessons of patience and industry, and, as you
struggle, you must sing the song of contentment. I am a wise prophet,
and I will see that your wishes are fulfilled.

“To-night you must sleep out in one of those hazel bushes. Be sure to
hide yourself, for sometimes I fly about while asleep. In that case
perhaps I might eat you without knowing it. To-morrow at dawn, follow
the path that leads to the brook. Then turn to your right. If you
should turn to your left, you would soon find yourself in Big Bear
City. Keep your eyes wide open, and when you least expect it, you will
be taught the lesson of patience.

“Follow the footpath till you come to a lovely dell, where a fairy
princess will teach you the lesson of industry and the value of doing
good to others. She probably can show you the way to Squirreltown, for
she knows all about geography. But, ere you reach home, you will have
two dreadful encounters. A four-legged giant with hundreds of darts
will rush upon you when you least expect it. Do not be frightened. Be
calm and cautious. Lie close to the ground so that his darts will pass
above you, should he throw them at you. Seize one of his darts, jab
him; he will then run away.

“Soon you will find yourself in the heart of a jungle that almost all
tame beasts fear to enter. Another giant, a big black one, will try to
hurt you. However, you will be protected. Do as I command, or you will
never get back home.”

“Thank you, Mr. Owl,” said Tiny, willing to endure any hardship if he
could only see his mother again. “Should you come to Squirreltown, the
Mayor will tell you where to find me. He is stopping at the Beech Tree
Inn.”

“What kind of stops does he use?” asked the owl, much amused.

Tiny stared at him in wonderment.

“I suppose you mean that he is _staying_ at the Beech Tree Inn,” said
the owl. “I hope you have enjoyed your visit in my castle. If you will
stay a while longer I will sing. I have a most beautiful voice. I can
sing twice as loud as a village of sparrows.”

The little red squirrel did not insist upon hearing the owl prophet
sing, for that would have been bad manners.

With a polite goodnight, he scurried down the tree to a clump of hazel
bushes, where he hid himself as securely as possible. He slept very
little, for he feared that the wise owl might fly about in his sleep
and possibly devour him.




CHAPTER V.


The sunbeams shine through the boughs of the trees and the winds rustle
gently. The dewdrops glitter on the grass. The brook bounds joyously
along. The birds sing gaily and the little animals of the wood come
forth to listen to the sweet music. The wild flowers open their pretty
cups.

Now the forest is ringing with glad shouts and songs. The sunbeams
are growing brighter. The winds are dying down and the dewdrops are
passing away. The brook is bounding along more joyously. The birds are
singing more gaily. The little animals are running hither and thither.
The flowers are spreading their pretty cups wide open to catch the
sunlight. At last Tiny is waking.

When Tiny awoke from his slumbers in the hazel brush, he scampered down
to the edge of the brook, washed his face, and combed out his long,
bushy tail. Then he began to call for Chatty, but no answer came. He
finally decided to start alone. He remembered to take the path leading
to the right as the owl had directed him. For a long time he sauntered
along, admiring the elder, oak, and buckeye trees, and occasionally he
darted his piercing gaze at some low-hanging black haw or pawpaw bush,
fearing some animal might attack him.

At last he came to a sandy plain, where he sat down to rest in the
sunshine. Not far away he saw a city. Its streets were filled with busy
inhabitants. Hundreds of them were hurrying to and fro, working with
all their energy. Many little workers were erecting buildings. To lift
a single grain of sand each was toiling with all his might. They did
not stop to rest or to visit, but kept working, working, working. Tiny
thought it would take them a long time to build houses from grains of
sand.

[Illustration: THEY DID NOT STOP TO REST OR VISIT, BUT KEPT WORKING,
WORKING, WORKING.]

While the architects were busy building new homes, some soldiers in
shiny, red clothes moved about as if they were giving orders to the
workers. A crowd of watchmen stood at the gates of the city, ready to
give warning at the approach of an enemy.

Not one of the little creatures was alarmed by the squirrel. They
heeded him no more than Tiny did the tree beneath which he was
crouching. He drew nearer and saw that there were many little rooms
near the surface of the city and that below them was a great public
dining-room and storeroom. Evidently they all ate their meals together.
These rooms were kept in order by a host of servants, who were very
busy all the time carrying out shells, seeds, and the remains of
insects. Others collected all the rubbish and carried it out into a
heap outside the city limits. Scores of nurses were looking after the
babies, and teaching them that the time would soon come when they must
labor like their elders.

Suddenly there was a great commotion in the street. Some food providers
were struggling along with a fly they had found. They were taking it
to the storeroom. The load was so heavy that several household workers
rushed out to lend their help. They toiled along together, slowly, with
one united effort, and with great difficulty; but, finally, they stowed
the fly headlong into the public storeroom. Tiny breathed a sigh of
relief when their hard task was done.

But they did not stop to rest. They turned out to help others bring
in a locust. The workers in the storeroom cleared a place for other
provisions; the watchmen guarded the gates, without taking their eyes
from their work; the architects, steadily and patiently, carried grain
after grain of sand to the tops of their buildings.

“How full of energy they are!” exclaimed Tiny. “By their combined
efforts they can build and support a great city. If something destroys
it, they build it up again. I wish squirrels would work together as
these insects do. Oh, I see! It is as the owl prophet said. I have
learned the lesson of patience. I do feel glad that I was permitted
to study this wonderful city. However, I am surprised to learn such a
noble lesson from the smallest of all creatures--ants!”




CHAPTER VI.


Not far from the city of ants, Tiny halted to refresh himself with an
acorn.

“This country is delightful,” he said to himself. “A squirrel does
not often see such a beautiful scene. He has little knowledge of the
great world. I was discontented not long ago, but now I am happy. I
am glad that I saw the ants and their city. They are very industrious
creatures. All have much work to do, yet they do it willingly. They
don’t seem to wish to be idle. Ants never before were interesting to
me, but now I admire them very much. You have taught me a lesson,
friend ant.”

[Illustration: SUDDENLY HE SAW A SPIDER BUSY AT WORK UPON HER COUNTRY
HOME.]

He sat still for a few moments gazing around him. Suddenly he saw a
spider busy at work upon her country home. She wore a snuff-brown
jacket dashed with purple, and her legs were striped like those of a
tiger.

She had just finished digging a tunnel seven inches long in the earth,
and had lined it with a substance that looked like silk. Now she was
spinning a web to cover the outer door, which was really a dry oak
leaf. She left an opening large enough to pass through. Then she pulled
some blades of grass and fastened them across the leaf so securely that
the entrance to her home could not be seen. She worked very busily,
although occasionally a rude wasp came along and tried to sting her.
In spite of disturbing insects, the spider finished building her home.
Then she twined some tiny vines about the entrance, making a green
bower that looked very pretty. When her difficult task was completed,
she crawled into her silk-lined hall and went to sleep.

“Plucky wood spider!” cried Tiny in admiration. “Although the
wasps threaten her life, she never gives up. You work diligently,
little friend. I admire you very much. I have learned a lesson in
perseverance.”

[Illustration: HE SAW A DARK OBJECT SITTING DIRECTLY IN FRONT OF HIM.]

Tiny did not hunt a place in which to sleep until it was quite late.
Indeed, the moon was beginning to shine before he thought of rest. Just
as he was about to leave the path turning to the right, he saw a dark
object sitting directly in front of him. It was singing in a clear and
plaintive voice:

          “Wur-r-r, wur-r-r, wur-r-r,
   I never complain nor demur,
   Though the fox and the bat and the weasel and cat
   Are waiting to seize me and roll me out flat,
   And swallow me down like a great lump of fat,
           Wur-r-r, wur-r-r, wur-r-r.

          “Wur-r-r, wur-r-r, wur-r-r,
           I have neither feathers nor fur;
  I am dusty and wrinkled and warts to me cling,
  Yet I’m never unhappy, for Nature, kind thing,
  Gave me such a sweet voice; so I constantly sing
           Wur-r-r, wur-r-r, wur-r-r.”

“How fortunate it is that an ugly creature may have the power to sing!”
exclaimed Tiny so loudly that the toad who had been singing grew
frightened and leaped into the tall grass.

“You have taught me the song of contentment, Mrs. Toad,” he continued.
“I have many privileges that you do not enjoy, for you only venture
forth at night. Although hundreds of animals are waiting to destroy
you, your song never loses its vigor. Your only recreation is to catch
a few insects and to sit in the moonlight, singing ‘Wur-r-r, wur-r-r,
wur-r-r’.”




CHAPTER VII.


Tiny spent the night in the fork of a wild plum tree. For some time
he sat thinking of his mother and Squirreltown, but his lessons in
patience and contentment had made him satisfied with his lot.

The next morning he started upon his journey, bravely following the
narrow, twisting path, ever ready to avoid danger.

[Illustration: HE WAS ABOUT TO TAKE A DRINK WHEN HE SAW WHAT HE TOOK TO
BE A FAIRY STRUGGLING IN THE WATER.]

At length he came to a brook. He was about to take a drink when he saw
what he took to be a fairy struggling in the water. She had been trying
to get out for a long time; but, finally, her wings ceased to move and
she lay very still.

Tiny, who was a good swimmer, hurried out to rescue her. He placed his
nose under her and lifted her from the water. Holding his head high, he
swam to the shore.

The fairy crawled upon a lady’s-slipper close by and flapped her wings
until they were quite dry.

“You have done me a great service,” she said. “I’ll repay you some time
when you least expect it. I can’t tell you how grateful I am.”

“Don’t try,” said Tiny, with a polite bow. “I’ve been taught to protect
the helpless, provided they are not too big for my protection. I hope
you are quite dry now.”

“Yes, I shall be able to fly back to the city as soon as I get my
breath,” she said. “I am a queen bee and I should not be out of my
hive. I left the palace this morning with several thousand followers
and was on my way to a far-off country, when, in some peculiar manner,
I fell into the water. I could not swim, so it is lucky for me that you
came by.”

“I hope that your followers will find you. They must be greatly
distressed.”

“Oh, I hope they’ll find me,” said the queen bee, as she flapped her
wings. “You see, I have thousands and thousands of children; but they
have good nurses and are never much bother. It is not hard to govern
them.”

Tiny gazed at her in surprise.

“I have been queen of a place called the City Wonderful,” she
continued. “I ruled fifty thousand subjects. We lived in a great city
with narrow streets, protected by a beehive. You don’t know what a very
busy place it was all summer long.”

“But it doesn’t seem possible that so many creatures could live
together. Just imagine fifty thousand red squirrels in one tree!”
gasped Tiny.

“That’s different,” responded the queen. “We live together in
co-operation. Each of the workers knows her work and does it without
having to be watched all the time. The workers are females, and they
are very industrious; but the drones are males, and they do not work.
They have to be driven out of the city before winter sets in, or they
would eat all our provisions. The workers toil from morning till night,
stopping up cracks in the hive with wax, carrying food to the baby
bees, and storing it away for winter. They haven’t time to play in the
summer. Each worker has six little pockets which she fills with pollen.
She uses this in making wax for the walls. As soon as the walls are
built, another set of workers make round places, or cells, in them.
Others fill the cells with honey from the honey bags they carry about
when they visit the flowers.”

“But where do the little baby bees stay?” asked Tiny.

“Oh, they stay in the empty honey cells and are watched and cared for
by their nurses until they are old enough to work,” replied the queen.
“There is much to do, but there are many classes of workers, from the
honey gatherers to the bees that stand inside the hive, fanning with
their wings to make currents of air; for without pure air the crowded
City Wonderful would not be a fit place to live in. Another set of bees
cleans out the cells after the baby bees are old enough to come out,
and others guard the gate of the city to keep away moths and other
troublesome creatures.”

“Bees are wise, sensible, industrious, and useful,” declared the
squirrel. “I should like to see the City Wonderful. I am very glad that
I have the privilege of seeing a queen bee. I wasn’t expecting such a
great pleasure.”

The queen bee said that she was equally glad to see the red squirrel,
and that she would be delighted to invite him to see the new City
Wonderful, were it not for the fact that her soldiers might make it
unpleasant for him.

“Are there many kinds of bees?” asked Tiny presently.

“Yes, there are fully seventy known varieties,” replied the queen,
daintily flapping her wings. “There are the plasterer bees. They make
tunnels in the ground, divide them into cells, and fill them with
honey. They have forked tongues to use as trowels in smoothing down
the silken layers which they use in making the tunnels. The flower
riflers, which are very dark in color, make their cells on dry walls.
Their homes look like lumps of mud.”

Tiny asked if all the bees live in great cities.

“Not all of them,” replied the queen, “although they are very sociable
creatures. The upholsterer bee cuts out round pieces from rose leaves,
with which she lines her tiny nest. Would it not be delightful to live
in a nest of sweet-smelling rose leaves? I should much prefer such
sweet quietude to city life. The upholsterer stores honey and pollen
that looks like rose-colored jam. I dare say it is very delicious. The
mason bees take bits of chalk, sand, and woody material, which they
make into tiny bricks to use in building their little houses. Another
kind of bee hunts for an old snail shell in which to make her house.
There is another variety that builds its nest in the heart of the
scarlet poppy. Some bees throw out sweet perfume. Although most bees
work in the sunshine, there is a class, with wings tinted like the
rainbow, that works by moonlight. You may be learned, my friend, but
I could sit here all day and tell you things about bees. You would be
much surprised at many facts I should mention. Bees, wasps, spiders,
and ants are very clever.”

Tiny said that there was nothing that could give him greater pleasure
than to hear her talk.

“But my body guard is coming,” continued the queen. “It is really an
extraordinary thing for a queen bee to be without attendants. They
must be much distressed about losing me.”

Tiny asked why she had left the City Wonderful.

“Because of family troubles,” replied the queen, somewhat ashamed.
“We lived in perfect harmony until I learned that my daughter, the
princess, would come out of her nursery cell in a few days to enter
society. Princess bees are the only ones that cause trouble. They are
fed on the finest food, and the nurses work hard to make their bodies
as smooth and comely as possible. Of course, daughters that live in
luxury and never have any responsibility are likely to be spoiled. Like
all queen bees I am in fear of the eldest princess.”

“Why?” cried Tiny in surprise.

“Oh, you don’t understand bees,” said the queen with a sigh. “When my
eldest princess comes from her nursery and is ready to go into society,
she will try to kill me. She will strive to be queen. It is always that
way with the princesses.”

“What a cruel daughter!” exclaimed the squirrel, much horrified.

“All princesses try to get the queens out of the way,” said the bee in
a sad voice. “As soon as they are big enough to rule others, they want
to control everything. So I have gotten several thousand loyal subjects
and have left the hive to build a city of my own.”

“And will a cruel princess become queen in your place?” asked Tiny.

“Yes,” was the response, “but before long she will become uneasy,
too. Her next younger sister will come out of her nursery and will
want to rule. Perhaps there will be a great contest, but doubtless
the elder princess will have to flee as I have done. She will have
fewer followers than I, and they will be called the after-swarm. Thus
jealousy goes on in the royal family all the time, but the other bees
are usually peaceable and are always busy.”

At that moment Tiny heard a buzz that sounded as though all the insects
in the world were singing together. A great swarm of bees, like a black
cloud, appeared overhead.

“I believe this must have been the first time in history that a queen
ever got away from the rest of the swarm,” said the queen bee. “I have
enjoyed this little visit so much, and I thank you a thousand times for
saving me from drowning.”

Waving her pretty wings in graceful farewell, she joined her army of
soldiers, and with buzzes of delight they carried her away.

“What a dreadful thing it is to be a ruler, in constant fear of death!”
said Tiny, gratefully. “I am glad--oh, so glad--that I am a little
common squirrel, as free as the sunbeams that light my way.”




CHAPTER VIII.


After his strange meeting with the queen bee, Tiny wondered what would
happen next. He remembered what the owl prophet had said concerning
the dangers he would meet. As he sped onward, his little heart began
to beat less bravely, for, like any young squirrel that had lived in
a comfortable home without a care or a worry, he dreaded to face an
uncertain future.

“I am frightened,” he said, with a shudder, as he stopped at the edge
of a clump of cedars to find a place in which to spend the night. “The
day and the twilight are gone. No moon or star is in the sky. I wish I
were at home with mother.”

Then came a crash. Tiny thought for a moment that it was hailing. He
was about to hide in the grass when a bright green light flashed forth,
so brilliant that he could see all about him. He soon learned that the
crash was caused by a multitude of acorns that the wind had shaken from
a tree. Never before had he seen such splendid acorns.

“I will fill my hunting-bag, although such a large load will cause me
to travel more slowly,” he said. “A bagful of acorns is a nice thing to
have. How happy mother will be to get them!”

He began helping himself to the acorns. Suddenly he saw an ogre emerge
from the ground, with a thousand darts all pointed straight at him.
Never before in all his life had Tiny been so frightened.

“Hist!” cried the ogre, advancing slowly towards the poor, trembling
squirrel, his sharp teeth showing in a ghastly manner. “One of the
squirrels of the forest enters my realm. What shall I do with him?”

[Illustration: “HIST!” CRIED THE OGRE, ADVANCING SLOWLY TOWARD THE
POOR, TREMBLING SQUIRREL.]

A hundred voices cried out in reply:

  “Master Ogre, friend so true,
   He has come to steal from you.
   See the bag he carries there!
   Seize him by his auburn hair;
   Put him in the bag, and then
   Hide him in your gloomy den!”

Poor Tiny could only stand and shiver, awaiting his dreadful fate. The
green light became brighter and brighter, and soon he saw that he was
surrounded by a circle of glow worms. The ogre was a fierce porcupine.
Tiny had never before seen such a terrible creature.

“Every soldier in my army is loyal to me!” shouted the porcupine
boisterously. “Each comes with a lantern to help me. They will aid me
to tie you, place you in that bag, and hang you in my den deep down in
the cold ground.”

“I did not come to rob you,” mumbled Tiny, shaking violently. “I am
lost, and am trying to find my way home. This is my hunting bag in
which I gather my winter store. Please let me go unharmed.”

“Neither you nor your hunting bag has any right to be on my castle
grounds,” growled the porcupine. “Either the woodchuck or the rabbit
has told you that I have many priceless valuables hidden in my
storeroom.”

“I have never met the woodchuck, nor have I seen the rabbit for many
weeks,” wailed Tiny. “In my hunting bag are acorns and beech-nuts. I
halted underneath this tree to gather a few of these fine acorns.”

“Guilty creature!” cried the porcupine, bristling still more. “Do not
these acorns belong to me, also the tree they grow upon? Confess now
that you were going to burrow into my storeroom and carry off the
precious carrots and cabbage leaves I have stored away for a rainy day.”

“You are mistaken,” said Tiny, almost dead from fright, while the glow
worms circled still more closely about him.

Just then he remembered what the owl prophet had told him to do. As the
porcupine attempted to seize him, Tiny leaped forward and caught one
of the sharp darts and gave him a hard jab, which made the porcupine
shriek at the top of his voice. Moaning with pain, the ferocious
creature disappeared into the ground. The glow worms vanished.

[Illustration: “I HAVE CONQUERED THE OGRE!” CRIED TINY IN DELIGHT,
WHIRLING THE SWORD ABOUT IN THE AIR.]

“I have conquered the ogre!” cried Tiny in delight, whirling the dart
about in the air. “I am glad that I took the wise owl’s advice.”

Still carrying the dart, or quill, that he had wrested from the
porcupine, he groped his way back to the path.

Soon the rays of the moon made everything as bright as day. He had not
gone far when he saw to the left a deep, dark jungle, concerning which
the owl prophet had spoken.

“It is a dismal place after night,” he said, “but I must go into the
jungle as I have promised to do. I shall use the dart to protect
myself.”

With some difficulty he entered the damp place, without thought of the
terrible fright that awaited him.




CHAPTER IX.


Deeper and deeper Tiny wandered into the heart of the jungle. It was
very damp and chilly as well as ghostly. His hunting bag was heavy, but
he did not lose heart.

He had heard that fairy princesses with torches often came to the aid
of good squirrels that were in trouble. He wished that they would come
to help him. But the dark trees and bushes looked like frightful hiding
places for foxes and other mischievous animals. He grew more and more
alarmed. Finally he halted at the foot of a pine tree.

“I will spend the night here,” he said to himself. “I shall be out of
danger in this great tree. What a lonesome place it is! This is one of
the gloomiest valleys I ever saw. I’ll hide my acorns under the tree
and find a place in which to rest.”

Hardly had he spoken these words, when a terrible growl fell upon his
ears. At the same time a great black object rose between himself and
the tree. It was the largest creature Tiny had ever seen.

“It is the black giant that Mr. Owl told me about,” chattered Tiny,
dropping his hunting bag. “Oh, what shall I do?”

The giant, which was really a black bear, growled louder than before
and tried to strike Tiny with his great paw. The red squirrel, quick
as a flash, attacked the giant with his dart, but only broke it into
several pieces. Then, as fast as his legs could carry him, he scurried
up the pine tree. The bear, shaking with rage, attempted to climb the
tree, too, but he was so heavy that a bough gave way, and he fell
clumsily to the ground.

[Illustration: HE WAS SO HEAVY THAT A BRANCH GAVE WAY AND HE FELL
CLUMSILY TO THE GROUND.]

“You may be a great fighter on the ground, but you can’t climb trees,”
laughed Tiny in spite of his recent fright.

“You shall stay in that tree till your beard turns gray,” growled the
bear, “for I intend to see that you do not escape.”

Tiny hid himself in one of the thick branches and remained quiet for
a long time. He feared to go to sleep, lest he might fall upon Mr.
Bruin’s upturned nose. In the meantime, the bear fell into a deep
slumber.

Finally the thought struck Tiny that he might be close to Squirreltown.
He quickly ascended to the topmost branch and looked all about him.

Less than two miles away he saw a wonderful sight. It seemed to him
that millions of bright stars clustered together over the top of a tall
tree in the east. They circled briskly about, sparkling and flashing
like diamonds in an immense crown.

“The good owl prophet has told me the truth from first to last,”
said Tiny, his heart almost bursting from joy. “I recognize the dear
old oak where I was born, although it is a long distance away.
Squirreltown stands under that crown of heavenly bodies. Never before
have I seen that kind of stars. Those rays are as bright as these
anxious eyes of mine. Hurrah for home and mother! How strange it is
that all my difficulties have helped me to find the right way home!”

He hastened down to the lowest branch of the tree, but Bruin was still
sleeping, with his head against its massive trunk. Tiny, whose mother
had taught him the lesson of prudence, did not dare to venture down,
lest the big black bear should seize him. So he went back to his
resting place, and soon fell asleep.

In the early gray dawn, he awoke and peeped from his cozy shelter. The
birds were leaving their green roofs to find food for their families.
The daisies in the woods and valleys were beginning to spread their
white and crimson-tipped stars. The leaves trembled in the early
breezes. Old Bruin was not far from the tree. He had found a hollow
stump, and was rooting around it with his long nose.

Soon there was a buzzing sound that swelled into an angry roar. Old
Bruin, in trying to steal some honey, had gotten into trouble with the
bees. The swarm was very angry. Hundreds of bees poured from the stump
and alighted on his head, in his eyes, ears, and nostrils.

[Illustration: CRAZED WITH PAIN THE BEAR DASHED AWAY.]

Crazed with pain, the bear dashed away, bellowing at the top of his
voice. Tiny, although very kind-hearted and forgiving, could not keep
from laughing at the plight of the bear. His cries sounded like the
mingled shrieks of many different animals, for the sting of each bee
was like the cut of a knife.

Tiny scurried down the tree to find his hunting bag, and what was his
delight to find other delicacies that would make his winter store
complete.

“What a glorious jungle this is!” he cried. “I am glad I followed the
advice of the owl prophet, for no squirrel has ever before been so
fortunate. The ground is covered with pine cones, the seeds of which
are delicious. Across the way is a large quantity of beech-nuts, and
all around me are blackberry bushes. There is nothing else so delicious
as dried blackberries.”

In the midst of his joy, the queen bee that he had rescued from the
brook lit upon a purple crow-foot growing by the stump, and cried out:

“Good morning, my four-legged friend. You are the squirrel that saved
my life.”

“I am glad to see you again, your majesty,” said Tiny with his polite
bow. “I wish you had happened to come sooner, for that dreadful black
giant made me stay in yonder pine tree all night long.”

“The impudent creature tried to get into our new home in the stump,”
said the queen. “My soldiers will chase him and his companions so far
away that they will never find their way back here.”

“You have done me a great service,” said Tiny, with a second bow. “I
thank you from the bottom of my heart.”

“A kind act always brings its reward,” said the queen cheerfully.

“But how can a tiny bee scare such a monstrous creature as a bear?”
asked the squirrel.

“One bee couldn’t scare anything,” laughed the queen. “You must
remember that bees work together. When hundreds and hundreds of bees
attack a bear, he is sure to make good use of his legs.”

“Isn’t it rather unpleasant to live in a stump, after having been queen
of the City Wonderful?” asked Tiny, after a moment of silence.

“No, I rather enjoy the change,” returned the queen bee, with a merry
buzz. “I hear that my oldest daughter, the princess, is now queen of
the City Wonderful, but that she is uneasy all the time, as her next
younger sister is almost ready to leave her nursery and fight for the
crown. Occasionally there is strife in the City Wonderful, for as
soon as a princess leaves her nursery, she wants to rule. I am quite
content to live here with my twenty thousand faithful followers. It is
better to live peaceably in a stump than with a quarrelsome daughter in
a fine palace.”

“I wish you much happiness,” said Tiny, with still another bow.

“Thank you,” replied the queen, testing her gauzy wings. “I learned
yesterday from one of my workers that Squirreltown is but a short
distance away. Follow the path leading eastward, and you will be there
in time for dinner.”

“And what a dinner I shall take to my good mother!” exclaimed Tiny,
looking about him.

There was his hunting bag filled with choice acorns. Fully two bushels
of beech-nuts and three barrels of pine cones were scattered over the
ground. On the blackberry bushes, some of which were five feet high,
were at least a dozen gallons of dried berries.

“I warn you that all is not well at Squirreltown,” continued the queen.
“They are having a dreadful famine there, and your poor mother may have
starved by this time. Fear, want, and anxiety are terrible companions
with which to live.”

“What caused the famine?” asked Tiny in alarm.

“Acorns and all the other queer food that squirrels eat are very scarce
in Squirreltown just now,” explained the queen; “and, to make it all
the worse, the squirrels there were annoyed by a host of bears that
took up their abode in the city. As a result, all the inhabitants were
afraid to leave their homes. The poor creatures were hungry enough to
eat one another.”

“Are there many bears about here?” asked Tiny.

“Quite a number of them came to the jungle, because there are so many
acorns. They intended to hibernate here. I remembered how kind you had
been to me, so I sent messengers to all the bees for miles around to
drive the bears out of Squirreltown. We intend to keep them out of this
jungle. We will watch your city every day and woe betide the bear that
enters! Should one attempt to pass the city limits, an alarm will be
sent out, and at least a thousand bees will chase him until he falls
down exhausted. Bears, deer, and buffaloes are cowards. However, they
do look very dreadful to small creatures like us.”

“I can never repay you for your courtesies,” said Tiny, this time
bowing so low that his bushy tail looked like a canopy over his head.

“Now run along home before my army returns,” continued the queen. “All
the citizens of Squirreltown know that you are coming, and that you are
their deliverer. I will send a few of my messengers to guide you, and
to conduct your friends back to the jungle where they can eat all they
want, and store things for winter use. Goodby.”

The queen bee flew back into the stump, buzzing happily. Tiny laughed,
cried, chattered, and sang for joy. After helping himself to a few
berries and pine cones, he picked up his bunting bag and trudged along
to Squirreltown, as happy as a king.




CHAPTER X.


The bees that had been sent to guide Tiny back to Squirreltown did not
speak a word. They flew a short distance ahead of him, occasionally
stopping to rest or to take refreshment from the cup of a wild rose.

What was Tiny’s joy when again he beheld the familiar trees of
Squirreltown! His delight knew no bounds when the squirrels, red, gray,
and black, scurried forth from their homes to welcome him. Soon he was
the center of an excited group. They stroked his fur, pulled his beard,
and shouted joyfully:

[Illustration: “WELCOME HOME! HURRAH FOR TINY REDSQUIRREL! LONG LIFE TO
THE DELIVERER OF SQUIRRELTOWN.”]

“Welcome home! Hurrah for Tiny Redsquirrel! Long life to the deliverer
of Squirreltown!”

They were about to pounce upon his hunting bag, but Tiny gently pushed
them away, saying:

“These are for my mother. Shall I tell you where I got them?”

“Yes, yes,” replied the squirrels, who were almost starved.

“Follow those bees to a jungle not far distant, where you can get
enough provisions to last all winter long. It is a dark and lonely
place, but you need have no fear, for a fairy queen lives there who has
promised to protect you. I will join you soon.”

Although the squirrels were anxious to inquire about Tiny’s health
and to learn of his experience, they immediately scampered off to the
jungle, for sometimes when little creatures become very hungry they
cease to be polite.

Tiny, finding himself all alone, hurried to his home in the great oak
tree. When he saw the face of his dear mother, he was filled with
mingled joy and sorrow. She looked much older, for a few days in
Squirreltown is a very long time, and she had been grieving constantly
for her lost son.

Instead of rushing to embrace him, as one would expect her to do,
she ran rapidly about the room, bounding over the table and chairs,
shrieking and making as much noise as possible, for that is the way red
squirrels show great joy.

“I am so glad that you have come back, my son!” she cried again and
again. “Tell me all about your adventures, for you must have had many
of them.”

[Illustration: HE PULLED THE HUNTING BAG INTO THE MIDDLE OF THE ROOM
AND OPENED IT.]

“Let us first have some supper, for you must be almost starved,” said
Tiny. He pulled the hunting bag into the middle of the room, and opened
it.

“Oh, how tempting!” cried his mother, sniffing at the dried
blackberries, and gazing hungrily at the acorns and pine cones. “I have
had nothing to eat for two days.”

“Then let us have a good feast together,” said Tiny, with a merry
laugh. “While we are eating I will tell you the story of my wanderings.”

“I shall eat while you are talking,” said Mrs. Redsquirrel.

“But first I should like to know whether Chatty Chipmunk is safe,” said
Tiny anxiously.

“I don’t know,” replied Mrs. Redsquirrel, with a sigh. “Animals of the
neighboring towns are doing all they can to assist our city in finding
him, but so far they have had little encouragement. His poor mother is
ill from anxiety. No one in the town suffers more than she.”

Tiny told his mother how he had become separated from Chatty. He also
told her about his meeting with the various creatures of the forest.

“I think I may have been traveling in a circle all the time,” he
concluded.

“All bright, heavenly bodies travel in a circle,” said his mother with
pride. “At any rate I am glad that you are safe at home once more. Now
that we have finished our meal, I will make the room more tidy. Can I
lift this hunting bag?”

“I will put it away,” answered Tiny, seizing the bag and pulling it
into the storeroom. “To-morrow I will go out into the jungle and bring
you enough provisions to last all winter. Now, dear mother, tell me
what has happened in Squirreltown during my absence.”

“On the day you left a number of bears took up their abode in the heart
of the city,” began Mrs. Redsquirrel, with a shudder. “We squirrels
could do nothing. We tried to drive them away by throwing twigs at
them, but the dreadful things only laughed at us, and said they would
stay as long as they lived. We couldn’t leave our homes to go out into
the country where the trees are loaded with acorns and beech-nuts, so
we stayed inside and waited for help. The poor chipmunks in the ground
must have suffered more than we.”

“I am sorry that I was not here to comfort you,” said Tiny.

“I missed you sorely, for you are so much braver than I,” said Mrs.
Redsquirrel meekly. “Last night some of the older bears went away to
get food. Early this morning we heard a most terrible noise. I peeped
from my window and could see the bears scattering in every direction,
and could hear them roaring and begging for mercy. Some of them fell
over logs and rolled helplessly about. In a few moments they had all
disappeared, and they did not return. Presently an army of wee soldiers
came to the city, buzzing merrily, and settled down on that old hemlock
tree where the Flyingsquirrel family formerly lived. Then Bushy
Graysquirrel rushed in to tell me that several maids of honor to the
fairy queen wanted to speak to me. She said that they bore news from
you.”

“How remarkable!” exclaimed Tiny. “It sounds, indeed, like a fairy
tale.”

“It was more like a bad dream to me,” declared Mrs. Redsquirrel.
“Between you and me I was afraid to go down, and yet I wanted to hear
something about you. In a few minutes I had brushed myself as neat as
possible, and stood in the presence of the queen’s army. A tiny maid
of honor, with shiny wings, came forth and told me how you had saved
the queen’s life. She said that she and her soldiers had promised to
keep their eyes on Squirreltown, and how they would see that the bears
disturbed us no more. I was also assured that you were well, and that
you would be back soon. I thanked her for her kindness, and returned
home. Squirreltown at once became the liveliest place you ever saw.
All the citizens mingled together as if they belonged to one family,
and they cheered loudly for Tiny Redsquirrel, whom they called their
deliverer. They are planning to give you a party late this afternoon.”

“That will be delightful,” said Tiny, beginning to feel very important.
“Last night I saw a crown of glittering stars circling about the tops
of our tallest trees. I never saw stars that shone brighter than they.”

“Oh, I almost forgot to tell you the most interesting part of the
story,” replied Mrs. Redsquirrel. “The queen doubtless knew that you
would go to some treetop, hoping to catch a glimpse of Squirreltown, so
she sent out some of her attendants to the camp of the fireflies, to
beg them to lend their aid. Before long several thousand of the bright,
pretty creatures were circling about the tops of the oak trees.”

“How wonderful!” exclaimed Tiny, with breathless interest. “I did not
know that such little creatures could be so helpful.”

“Three times to-day several of the queen’s maids of honor flew into my
window and left me some honey,” continued the mother. “I have grown
quite fond of honey, although I do not believe that sweets are good for
animals.”

Tiny then told his parent how the owl prophet had taken an interest in
him, and how he expected to seek him soon to receive more knowledge.

“I do not put much dependence upon owls,” said Mrs. Redsquirrel,
beginning to tremble, “but, should it be to your advantage, I would not
complain if you should go to thank him for his goodness. He has been so
kind that you ought not to show ingratitude. Perhaps he may teach you
many other things that you should know.”

“May I lie down for a few moments, mother?” asked Tiny, for he was
beginning to feel the effects of his long and tiresome journey.

“Dear son, you may,” she replied, as she hastened to make his couch
more comfortable. “You ought to take a long nap before the party.”




CHAPTER XI.


Tiny became ill, and could not venture out of doors, so the party
was postponed until he should get well. His mother sent for Dr.
Flyingsquirrel, who lived out in the country. The doctor, who could
spread out his loose skin and fly like a bird, said that Tiny should
remain quiet for at least two days.

[Illustration: SEVERAL OF TINY’S BEST FRIENDS, INCLUDING THE MAYOR
HIMSELF, AND OTHER IMPORTANT CITIZENS CAME TO SEE HIM.]

The Mayor of Squirreltown issued an edict that anyone who made a loud
noise should be banished from the city, so intense silence reigned.
Several of Tiny’s best friends, including the mayor himself and other
important citizens, came to see him. They brought him wild flowers,
acorns fashioned by their teeth into fanciful cups, and many other
pretty things which Tiny gratefully received.

The second morning Bushy Graysquirrel brought him a book of fables
written by Father Aesop, who at that time was the greatest writer known
to Animal Kingdom.

The story that pleased him most was the following:

  THE MOUSE’S DISCOVERY.

  Once upon a time a donkey, a wolf, a fox, and a cat fell into an
  argument as to which of them was the greatest.

  A field mouse, who was hiding close by in a tuft of grass, heard the
  conversation, and was much amused.

  “I am the greatest thing in the world,” boasted the wolf, “for I am
  so brave that I fear nothing. On the other hand, you would all run if
  I showed my teeth and claws. I am one of man’s greatest fears.”

  “It is certainly no sign of greatness to be a good fighter,” said the
  fox, proudly curling his tail as foxes sometimes do. “I am shrewd and
  wily. It is much better to have these qualities of mind than to be
  fierce. Children’s books are full of stories concerning my cunning
  tricks.”

  “Foxes’ opinions of themselves are sometimes absurd,” said the
  donkey, stamping his hoofs upon the ground to scare away the flies.
  “Donkeys are the greatest of all objects, for the reason that they
  are useful and always can be depended upon. Donkeys’ feet are more
  sure than the hoofs of horses.”

  “I am the chief of all objects,” proclaimed the cat, from a bough
  of one of the birches. “I belong to the tiger family, yet I am so
  gentle that children keep me for a pet. Men prefer dogs, but cats are
  women’s favorites. The wolf’s importance is small compared with mine.
  My food is brought to me, and I spend my spare time catching mice.
  Cats are mice’s greatest foes.”

  The mouse’s heart stood still when he heard these dreadful words from
  the cat’s mouth, for he dreaded cats’ paws more than he did wolves’
  teeth.

  “I cannot fight, nor am I shrewd enough to steal, strong enough to
  carry loads, nor lazy enough to be a child’s pet; but I can sing,”
  warbled a thrush from the branch of another tree. “Birds are men’s
  sweetest comforters, for their tunes always drive away care. Flies’
  lives are spent in useless buzzing. A fly’s buzz is not sweet to
  hear, as the donkey well knows. However, thrushes’ songs are very
  melodious, for thrushes practice singing all day long. Surely the
  thrush’s position is high above that of all other objects.”

  Before the wolf could open his mouth to praise himself again, there
  was a sound of heavy footsteps. Presently a man came in sight,
  carrying a blunderbuss.

  The wolf, forgetting how brave he was, darted away; the donkey’s
  departure was almost as sudden; the thrush flew high into the sky;
  the cat scurried to the birch’s topmost branch; and the hair on the
  fox’s tail stood straight up as he leaped the bushes.

  [Illustration]

  “See how they run!” exclaimed the field mouse, laughing at the
  frightened animals who a moment since had been boasting of their
  power. “It is very plain to be seen that the greatest of all objects
  is the blunderbuss.”




CHAPTER XII.


When the two days were up Tiny had quite regained his health. Great
preparations had been made for a jubilee. A grand banquet, given by the
mayor and other high officials, was to be held in the hollow of a big
tree.

When Tiny stepped out upon the little rustic veranda in front of his
home, he observed that the branches of the tree below him were thronged
with squirrels of all colors and of all walks in life.

“Hurrah for Tiny Redsquirrel!” they shouted. “Welcome, deliverer of
Squirreltown! Three cheers for the noblest and bravest squirrel of
Animal Kingdom! A speech! A speech!”

[Illustration: TINY BECAME OVERWHELMED BY A FEELING OF
IMPORTANCE--THERE WAS ALL SQUIRRELTOWN AT HIS FEET.]

Strange to say, instead of being embarrassed, Tiny became overwhelmed
by a feeling of importance. There was all Squirreltown at his feet,
including the mayor and Billy Foxsquirrel, the noted whistler. Tiny
bowed very stiffly, while the squirrels at the tops of their voices
shouted lustily. He looked down upon them just as the wise owl prophet
had gazed at him.

“Fellow citizens,” he began, “I thank you for the honor you do me. I
see many faces before me that show appreciation for what I have done to
rescue our city from the bears. I choose to do all I can to help you.

“The mayor invited me to make a speech to you. At the time, I knew that
I could not prepare one as well as he, but I threw myself into the task
and did the best I could. I am glad that this public reception has
drawn so many of you to this place.

“You have given me great happiness. Our beautiful city has grown very
dear to me. I am glad that I was driven all round the world, for I
learned many things that I will teach you. I have become much wiser
since I have traveled, and have learned much that you do not know. I--”

But in the midst of his grand eloquence, Tiny was interrupted. As he
stood beating the air with his little paws, trying to impress his
hearers, there came a flapping of wings overhead.

His terrified hearers fled in all directions, but before he could
escape he was seized and borne high into the air--up, up amongst the
tree-tops.

He was too much frightened to cry out. He could only wait until the
dreadful creature that held him in his clutches should set him free.
His blood almost froze in his veins. He wondered what he should do
if his frail limbs were broken, or if he should be cast down in some
lonely place to perish. Perhaps he would be eaten. His heart fell
within him.

After traveling for some time in this unusual and uncomfortable manner,
he found himself in a nest of great size, with the owl prophet staring
at him with big yellow eyes.

[Illustration: HE FOUND HIMSELF IN A NEST OF HUGE SIZE, WITH THE OWL
PROPHET STARING AT HIM WITH BIG, YELLOW EYES.]

Although he was in a quiver of fright, like many other small creatures,
he did not wish to appear concerned, so he smiled feebly and said:

“Hello!”

“How dare you be so bold?” cried the owl in a dry, unnatural voice. “Do
you think I am a telephone?”

“Pardon me,” said Tiny weakly. “My grammar is very bad.”

“Grammar is never bad,” corrected the owl. “It is your English that is
bad.”

“But why did you take me away from dear old Squirreltown?” wailed Tiny.

“To teach you the lesson of humility,” replied the owl prophet. “I
have flown all the way to Squirreltown and back here to keep you
from disgracing yourself. I am glad that I went. To see little Tiny
Redsquirrel, puffed with vanity, frisking about with his little paws
and bushy tail, lecturing to the old citizens of Squirreltown, was
enough to make a wise owl laugh. What do you suppose the mayor thought
of you?”

“I don’t know,” replied Tiny, ashamed of himself in spite of his
excitement. “I fear that I was very pompous; but then I had delivered
Squirreltown from the bears, and I thought I had a right to be bold.
You see, the mayor intended to have me for supper.”

“If you complain any more, I myself will have you for supper,” declared
the owl, with no pity whatever. “I suppose you mean that the mayor
intended to entertain you at supper, for it is not likely that he would
wish to eat you.”

Tiny stared in bewilderment. He could not understand all the odd
sayings of the prophet, but, nevertheless, he corrected himself by
saying:

“The mayor invited me to eat supper with him.”

“Well, he will have all the more to eat without you, and will not have
to listen to any more of your speeches,” snapped the owl. “Which one of
those squirrels was the mayor?”

“The large one with the sleek fur. I have often been told that the
mayor looks like I do,” replied Tiny, his new vanity again appearing.

“To be sure he does,” retorted the owl, with a laugh. “I, too, look
like you do.”

Tiny again stared in astonishment. He could see no points of
resemblance between himself and the owl.

“A bee looks like you do,” continued the prophet. “A bear looks like
you do; so does a weasel, an elephant, a hyena, a jay bird, and a loon;
even a monkey looks like you do.”

“You are jesting with me,” protested Tiny, beginning to be vexed.

“All animals look like you do, because they look with their eyes just
as you do,” said the owl, with another distracting screech.

“Oh, I see,” said Tiny, good-naturedly. “I should have said that the
mayor looks like _me_. It was incorrect for me to say that the mayor
looks like I do.”

“Quite so,” said the owl, less harshly. “You are a bright little
creature, and I am going to see that your wish for knowledge is
granted. You felt very important an hour ago, when you tried to make a
public speech before the oldest citizens of Squirreltown; but now you
see how little you know. I am going to take you to Beaver Creek, where
you may complete your education. Very few animals of the wood know of
this school, and only the ablest ones are admitted to it. When you have
graduated, you may go back to Squirreltown. Perhaps by that time you
will be able to make a modest speech before your fellow squirrels.”

“I really want an education,” replied Tiny, with enthusiasm. “The
schools at Squirreltown are not very good, and very few squirrels
attend them. We are such nervous creatures, and care more for play than
for study. But what will my mother do without me?”

“If she is a good mother, she will not stand in the way of your
education,” replied the owl. “I will write her a letter which the
messenger pigeon, a friend of mine, will carry to her. You must write
to her twice a week, and the messenger pigeon will bear the letters to
her.”

“I dislike to write letters,” protested Tiny. “It is such stupid work.”

“It is generally a stupid creature that dislikes to write letters,”
said the owl severely. “He does not like to write, because he does not
know how to write well. In Miss Hare’s School at Beaver Creek, you will
be taught how to write correctly; then letter writing will prove to be
a great pleasure to you.”

“I am anxious to attend this school, because I want to learn how to
read stories and to count,” said Tiny, after a moment of anxious
thought.

“You must promise to work hard,” said the owl, earnestly. “You will
find pupils at this school from all parts of Animal Kingdom. Miss Hare
is a good instructor, but very strict. If you should do anything that
would injure one of your classmates, you would be drowned in the creek.
Now roll yourself into a little round ball again, for I am ready to
start.”

[Illustration]

Tiny did as he was commanded. The owl almost encircled him with his
long claws, and away they went to a strange land, about which Tiny had
never even dreamed.




CHAPTER XIII.


As he flew through the air in the clutches of the owl, Tiny realized
what a small, helpless creature he was. Not a word was spoken till
they stopped at the bank of a creek, which looked to him like a great
river. It was filled, in one place, with branches of willows, beeches,
poplars, and other trees. His heart beat sluggishly, for the scene was
very dismal, indeed.

“Have no fear,” said the owl prophet, not so gruffly as usual. “I have
promised the queen bee to help you. A great many creatures do not like
to go to school, but in after years they always regret it if they have
quit school before completing the course.”

Not a sound could be heard except the babbling of the brook and the
tinkling of a waterfall several rods away. Tiny shuddered, but said
nothing.

“These buildings were built by beavers,” explained the owl, although
it was so dark Tiny could not see them at all. “When they moved away,
Miss Hare started her school here. Only one of the beavers remained. He
is a skilled carpenter and janitor, and he keeps the building in good
repair. You no doubt have heard that he mixes mortar with his forepaws,
and uses his broad tail for a trowel. Young beavers stay at home till
they are three years old; then they build houses of their own. This
school is situated upon a stream of flowing water, as you see, for Miss
Hare thinks that little scholars should have plenty of water as well as
fresh air.”

[Illustration: “THE BUILDINGS WERE BUILT BY BEAVERS,” EXPLAINED THE
OWL.]

“I am glad that I came,” said Tiny, although he looked into the owl’s
yellow eyes with some distrust. He still feared that the wise prophet
might suddenly pounce upon him and eat him.

“Hoot! hoot! hoot! Is everybody asleep?” cried the wise owl. “I can’t
see why creatures want to sleep at night. I never close my eyes then,
for I have plenty of sleep in the daytime. Besides, one should always
be on the lookout at night, for one never knows what may happen.”

Soon there was a splashing in the water, and in a few moments a queer
animal approached them.

“It is the janitor,” explained the owl, somewhat annoyed by the delay.
“I fear he is getting lazy. He surely is not overworked, for all he
does is to look after the buildings, play, sleep, and eat the bark of
trees and the roots of water lilies.”

“I beg pardon for keeping you waiting so long,” said the beaver. “As
soon as I heard you, I rose to find out your wish.”

“I have brought a pupil to Miss Hare,” said the owl. “Please see that
he has a comfortable room for the night. Tell Miss Hare that I will
write her a letter soon.”

The owl prophet flew away, leaving Tiny with the beaver, who moved
sleepily back along the willow boughs to a group of quaint houses made
of mud, stones, and sticks. Their dome-shaped roofs were several feet
above the level of the water.

Suddenly, from the front window of one of the houses, a gleam of light
shot forth and an odd-looking animal thrust out its head.

Tiny, who by this time was accustomed to surprises, looked up to behold
Miss Hare gazing down upon him. She looked very comical in her white
nightcap.

“Well, well, well, what is the matter?” she cried in a high voice.
“My nerves are shaken by the dreadful noises I have heard. What is the
matter, Mr. Beaver?”

“Mr. Owl has brought another pupil,” said the beaver, politely. “I do
not know where to put him.”

[Illustration: “MR. OWL HAS BROUGHT ANOTHER PUPIL,” SAID THE BEAVER,
POLITELY.]

“Let him stay with Reynard Redfox to-night,” replied Miss Hare, looking
searchingly at Tiny. “What a frail little creature you are! You must
belong to the Rat family.”

Tiny did not like Miss Hare’s frank way of speaking, and to be
compared to a rat was not agreeable, but he said politely:

“I am Tiny Redsquirrel of Squirreltown. I desire very much to get an
education.”

“I will let you stay if you will obey the rules,” said Miss Hare,
severely. “I have always heard that red squirrels are very mischievous
animals. You must know that I will not permit any foolishness. Not long
ago Mr. Owl brought a pupil here who was so very saucy and naughty that
I was glad to get rid of him. Although I taught him the lessons of
kindness and charity, he bit Weenie Mouse and hit Winkie Weasel with an
acorn. One day he tore out one of Katie Goose’s feathers and frightened
the poor fowl almost to death. I never before saw such a bad creature.
He looked very much like you. Do you know Chatty Chipmunk?”

“Yes, ma’am,” replied Tiny, heartily ashamed of his youthful companion.
“Is he at this school?”

“No, he forsook us before he had been here three days,” answered Miss
Hare. “I think he must have been drowned. I will give you a trial; but
if you prove unworthy of my school I will never receive any more pupils
brought to me by Mr. Owl. Good-night.”

“Come on,” said the beaver. “I will take you to meet your roommate.”

“Oh, I cannot room with a red fox!” protested Tiny, much alarmed. “He
will eat me during his sleep.”

“You need have no fear,” said the beaver assuringly. “Miss Hare has
taught all her pupils the lesson of self-denial. She puts all sorts
of temptations in their way, but none of them ever yield unless they
are downright bad, as Chatty Chipmunk was. Reynard Redfox is very well
bred. He and Bantam Chicken are the best of friends. Wherever you see
Bantam, you may also see Reynard following after him.”

Tiny did not feel very comfortable when the beaver opened the door of
one of the buildings and told him to enter.

Three or four fireflies, whose duty it was to carry lanterns, flew
about the room, making it very light. Reynard Redfox, who was very
large compared with Tiny, rose and shook out his stiff, long-haired
coat. He gazed hungrily at the little red squirrel as though he were
starving for his companionship.

[Illustration: “MR. REDFOX, THIS IS MR. REDSQUIRREL,” SAID THE BEAVER.]

“Mr. Redfox, this is Mr. Redsquirrel,” said the beaver. “Mr.
Redsquirrel is a new scholar and Miss Hare said he should share your
room to-night.”

“He is most welcome,” said Reynard with a smile that made Tiny tremble
all over. “I always was fond of squirrels. I fancy we shall get along
famously together, as he takes up so little room.”

“I assure you I shall occupy as little space as possible,” replied
Tiny, politely. “I shall sleep here by the door, and, if I annoy you
during the night, all you have to do is to make a noise and I will jump
into the creek.”

“You are quite safe,” assured the fox, settling himself for a nap.
“Since I have been at this school I have learned how cowardly it is to
injure creatures smaller and weaker than myself. I hope you will like
our school.”

“I hope so, too,” said Tiny, faintly. “Of course, it will take time to
get acquainted with all the strange animals I shall meet. I have seen
little of the world.”

“Just be kind and unselfish, and you will make friends,” said the red
fox. “When you see another animal that doesn’t please you, don’t stare
at him as you did at me, but be as agreeable as you can. Remember that
it would be a very monotonous world if all animals should look and act
alike.”

“Miss Hare must be a very nice creature,” ventured Tiny.

“She is very wise and talented,” said the fox with enthusiasm. “Some of
the most aristocratic families in Animal Kingdom are represented in her
school. I have heard that she belongs to the nobility. You know she is
a Belgian Hare, and I believe I heard some one say that her father was
a Welsh Rabbit.”

At that moment a terrible thumping sound was heard.

“What is that!” exclaimed Tiny, unconsciously drawing nearer to Reynard
for protection.

“It is a warning for us to keep quiet,” said the fox. “Billy Beaver,
the janitor, makes that noise with his tail whenever we become
boisterous at night. You know that whenever a beaver wishes to warn
his companions that danger is near, he makes a thumping sound with his
tail. Really, the only clever thing about a beaver is his tail.”

The fireflies settled down to rest, leaving the roommates in darkness.
Although Reynard slept soundly, Tiny did not close his eyes until he
was so exhausted that he could keep them open no longer.




CHAPTER XIV.


Tiny was glad when the rosy dawn peeped over the eastern hills once
more. The little dark room in which he lay did not look so cheerless in
the bright light of day.

Again there came the sound of knocking that resembled the beating of a
drum.

[Illustration: “THAT’S BILLY BEAVER,” EXPLAINED REYNARD REDFOX,
YAWNING. “HE IS CALLING FOR US TO GET UP.”]

“That is Billy Beaver,” again explained Reynard Redfox, yawning. “He
is calling for us to get up. We have just an hour in which to eat our
breakfasts.”

“Who gets breakfast for us?” asked Tiny, feeling much out of place in
the strange new land.

“Each one gets his own breakfast, of course,” replied Reynard, much
amused. “We all require different kinds of food; and Miss Hare does not
care how or where we get it, if we keep from injuring one another.”

“Katie Goose, who is very cleanly, takes a swim in the creek, and hunts
for seeds along the bank; Sammy Rabbit, a relative of Miss Hare, hunts
for grain; and Winkie Weasel chases insects and catches frogs. Since I
have become civilized, I am particularly fond of grapes, although I am
never so happy as when strawberry season comes round.

“Shifty Woodchuck has less trouble in searching for his breakfast
than any other pupil, for he goes to a field of red clover or wild
buckwheat, and many a time he eats until he is not in good condition to
study. Shifty is a sleepy little animal. He spends the winter in a nest
of dried grasses that he builds in a hole in the ground. When the cold
weather comes, he will get sleepy and will lay aside his studies to
prepare for a long rest. Maybe he will sleep all winter, for no other
animal sleeps so long or so soundly as the woodchuck.”

It took Tiny but a few moments to smooth down his silken fur and to
brush out his bushy tail. With a shrill cry of delight, he sprang from
his new home and ran out into the bracing, frosty air. He sped over the
willow brush that surrounded the village of quaint beaver houses,
and soon found himself in an oak tree where there were plenty of ripe
acorns, moist with dew.

Hardly had he finished his breakfast when again he heard the tail
of the beaver pounding heavily. He hastened back to the cluster of
beaver houses with their round domes. Little animals of all kinds were
bustling about on their way to the various recitation rooms. Billy
Beaver, the janitor, told Tiny that he should go into the auditorium,
which was the largest building of all. There he found Miss Hare,
sitting behind a rough, wooden table. She wore a gray robe and a pair
of large earrings. Her spectacles were so heavy that her eyes seemed
very large; but he at once decided that she must be a kind teacher, as
her voice was soft and gentle.

[Illustration: MISS HARE’S SCHOOL.]

A number of animals sat on wooden benches facing Miss Hare. Reynard
Redfox, who was the largest animal in school, sat in one corner by
himself. His big, dark eyes were as mild as Tiny’s. His coarse, shaggy
fur was neatly brushed.

The room was decorated with flowers and carpeted with moss. An
old-fashioned fireplace with bellows and tongs stood at one end of the
room. Tiny, who had never before seen a fireplace, wondered where the
fire came from. He afterwards learned that Billy Beaver made the fire
by rubbing two sticks together, and that it was never permitted to go
out.

Toadstools, cat-tails, and elderberry bushes were arranged against
the walls, looking quite as artistic as the bay-trees and other
ornaments we see in fashionable hotels. Window curtains, woven of silk
by spiders, and screens and cushions, woven of weeds, reeds, and grass
by birds and mice, added to the comfort of the place. Snail shells and
pretty stones, gathered by the pupils, also lent beauty to the room.

[Illustration: NOT WISHING TO BE OUTDONE BY HIS CLASSMATES, HE WENT
FORWARD AND, WITH A LOW BOW, GAVE MISS HARE AN ACORN.]

Tiny observed that each pupil presented the teacher with flowers and
delicacies, which were laid on her desk. Not wishing to be outdone by
his classmates, he went forward and, with a low bow, gave Miss Hare an
acorn.

“Thank you,” said Miss Hare with a pleased smile, as she bent forward
and gazed admiringly at him through her dark spectacles. “I see that
you have already learned the lesson of generosity. You are the little
animal that Mr. Owl brought here last night, I suppose. I hope you will
be very studious and learn a great deal. I will introduce you to two
pupils in the language class. Mr. Redsquirrel, this pupil is Winkie
Weasel; that pupil just coming in is Sammy Rabbit. Those pupils, who
are sitting in the back row of seats, are well advanced in their work;
those pupils in the front seats are beginners. I will introduce them
later on.”

Tiny bowed to each of the pupils in the room, which included Shifty
Woodchuck, who was very fat and sleepy-looking; Mr. Rabbitt, who had
pink eyes and rosy ears; Mew Mew, who wore a blue bow; Bow Wow, with
curly locks hanging over his eyes; Little Winkie Weasel, who possessed
a long body and very short legs; Miss Field Mouse, who sat upon a
toadstool; and several other pupils.

“I usually teach in rhyme,” said Miss Hare, with an air of
assurance that made Tiny think she was vastly learned. “I teach the
multiplication table in rhyme, and in language I teach the use of
verbs, nouns, and other parts of speech in the same way. There is no
reason why one should not teach in rhyme, for it is natural and not
easily forgotten.”

She then told Tiny to sit by Winkie Weasel and, after opening her book,
she looked over the class to be sure that each pupil was ready to give
his attention.

“The class may read aloud together our lesson for to-day,” she said,
finally.

All the animals rose and read as follows:

  THE ANIMAL ALPHABET.

  A is _an_ antelope, graceful and slim,
  _A_ beautiful antelope, dainty and trim.

  B is _a_ bee, flitting round all the day,
  _An_ industrious bee that stores honey away.

  C is _a_ chipmunk that lives in the ground,
  _An_ intelligent chipmunk with eyes black and round.

  D is _a_ dog that but seldom offends,
  _An_ affectionate dog, ever true to his friends.

  E is _an_ eagle, that seeks the tall pine,
  _A_ big golden eagle with feathers that shine.

  F is _a_ fox that fills chickens with fright,
  _An_ impudent fox that steals forth in the night.

  G is _a_ giraffe with a nose in the sky,
  _An_ upright giraffe that holds his head high.

  H is _a_ horse that has just lost his shoe,
  _An_ untiring horse, and a useful one, too.

  I is _an_ ibex, a wild mountain goat,
  _A_ wandering ibex that wears a fur coat.

  J is _a_ jackal of varying mood,
  _An_ ambitious jackal, both nimble and shrewd.

  K is _a_ kangaroo, clumsy and stout,
  _An_ active old kangaroo, leaping about.

  L is _a_ lamb that has never done wrong,
  _An_ innocent lamb that bleats all the day long.

  M is _a_ monkey that close to man ranks,
  _An_ over-fed monkey that likes to play pranks.

  N is _a_ nightingale, cheerful and bright,
  _An_ interesting nightingale singing at night.

  O is _an_ owl, independent and free,
  _A_ very wise owl that lives in a tree.

  P is _a_ pigeon with wide, sweeping tail,
  _An_ excitable pigeon that carries our mail.

  Q is _a_ quail, going forth for her food,
  _An_ excellent quail with her pretty young brood.

  R is _a_ rabbit as white as sea foam,
  _An_ upright, kind rabbit, quite fond of his home.

  S is _a_ swan, of which many are fond,
  _An_ elegant swan that glides round on the pond.

  T is _a_ tiger that hunters entrap,
  _An_ indolent tiger, now taking a nap.

  U is _a_ unicorn--how strange he looks--
  _An_ odd unicorn we find only in books.

  V is _a_ vampire, as everyone knows,
  _An_ awkward old creature that hangs by its toes.

  W is _a_ weasel, quite fond of fresh meat,
  _An_ odd-looking weasel, but very discreet.

  X is _a_ xyphoidal whale, I am told,
  _An_ angry xyphoidal whale, so big and so bold.

  Y is _a_ yak, very much like an ox,
  _An_ elderly yak with long, bushy, gray locks.

  Z is _a_ zebra, black, yellow, and tan,
  _An_ obstinate zebra, of slight use to man.

[Illustration: POETRY]




CHAPTER XV.


Miss Hare’s school was a very studious place during the fall; but when
winter set in, some of the pupils began to lose interest in their
work. The woodchuck, who was the dullest pupil in the language class,
went to his bed of dried clover one night and forgot to wake up until
spring had returned. Tiny, himself, felt very sleepy at times, but he
sat close to the fireplace in the schoolroom and studied as hard as he
could, determined to get a good education. He did his work well. At
recess-time he would run out upon the pile of branches that surrounded
the school building, and play until Miss Hare rang the bell. Sometimes
he would run a race with Winkie Weasel, but, as he always came out
ahead, he soon wearied of the pastime.

[Illustration: SOMETIMES HE WOULD RUN A RACE WITH WINKIE WEASEL.]

At dusk he would go to his cozy room, and for an hour or more he and
Reynard would talk over their lessons and their plans for the future.
There were no pretty fireflies to make light for them, but, when the
moon was shining, they could see quite well. They grew contented to lie
in their soft beds of leaves and reeds, and talk about the coming of
spring.

One cold night they heard a knock. Reynard, who was feeling homesick,
opened the door. There stood Puss Snowball, the cat, looking very
beautiful against the pure white background of ice and snow, upon which
the moon shone brightly.

“Good evening, Snowball,” said Reynard, kindly. “Will you not come in?”

“I thought I would run over and have a little chat with you,” said
Snowball, nestling down in the coziest corner of the room. “My, isn’t
it cold! I believe I have frozen my whiskers and the tip of my nose.”

“Cold weather doesn’t last always,” said Tiny, cheerily. “Reynard and
I do our work quite as well in cold weather as in warm weather. If it
were not for the ice and snow, we would not take so much delight in the
green grass and the spring rains.”

“I suppose not,” said Snowball, his teeth chattering, “but I shouldn’t
mind the cold weather if I had a more agreeable companion. I can’t
understand why Miss Hare insists upon my rooming with Rover. You know
cats and dogs never get along well.”

“If you were too happy together, perhaps you would forget to study,”
suggested Reynard. “You remember, Snowball, how the monkey and the
parrot became so sociable that they had to leave School.”

“Oh, Rover is very mannerly in some ways, but he growls and barks too
much,” complained Snowball, with a sigh. “They say it is natural for
a dog to bark, although I can’t see why he need be so noisy about
it. He frightens me almost to death when he barks, and he is very
unreasonable. To-night he has done many things to tease me. The other
night he told me that my constant purring was very trying to his
nerves. You know that a cat never purs unless he is happy, so I suppose
that my good nature makes him cross. How peculiar some animals are!”

Tiny said that every creature has its peculiarities, and it is best to
overlook things that do not please us, since we all have disagreeable
traits of our own.

“We wanted to organize a singing class,” continued Snowball, changing
the subject, “but when we called in Katie Goose to talk it over with
us, Billy Beaver thrust his nose through the door and said that Miss
Hare would never permit us to sing after night. He added that a cat, a
dog, a goose, and a number of other creatures, would not make a very
tuneful chorus, however fine we might be as soloists.”

“Billy Beaver can’t sing,” said Reynard. “I can see his reason for
objecting to a students’ chorus.”

“He is very rude,” said Snowball, severely. “I shall not forget how
horrid he made me feel the night that Weenie Mouse was missing. I am
sure that he thought I might have eaten him. I was very glad, indeed,
when they found Weenie hiding in Miss Hare’s room, nibbling at an ear
of corn.”

“Recite the poem about the kitten that went to sleep when her mother
had visitors,” begged Tiny. “I am sure that Reynard would like to hear
it.”

Without waiting for Reynard to insist, Snowball recited, in his pretty
purring manner, the following poem, which is said to amuse kittens even
to the present day:

  TABBY AND PRUE.

  Quoth Dame Tabby Cat to her daughter, Miss Prue,
    “I shall teach you a lesson, my dear,
  For I am so very much older than you,
    And very much wiser, I fear.

  “I felt more ashamed than I ever can tell,
    When you slept while my callers were here.
  If you do it again, I will punish you well;
    I will teach you some manners, my dear.”

  “Shall I sit wide awake while your busy tongues fly?
    Can I keep my eyes open so long?”
  “You can, Prudy dear, if you only will try,
    But you think it is smart to do wrong.”

  The anger of Tabby Cat grew quite intense,
    When Prue said, “Please listen, I pray.
  May I speak a few words in my own self-defense?”
    And Tabby Cat answered, “You may.”

  “I ought not to sleep till your friends go away.
    Such an act is a sorry mishap;
  Yet you taught me to do it, for only to-day
    You talked yourself into a nap.”

  “My friends stayed so long that I hardly could peep,”
    Said Tabby Cat, heaving a sigh;
  “But, nevertheless, _you_ must not fall fast asleep,
    For you are much younger than I.”

“It is a capital story,” laughed Reynard, when Snowball had finished.
“I saw Tiny laughing many times.”

Before the squirrel could thank the cat for his kindness, Billy Beaver
pounded at the door, and in another moment stood before them.

“I overheard you talking about me, Mr. Snowball; also about Rover and
others,” he said, turning to the cat, who, in the moonlight, looked
very pale and frightened.

“Did I understand you to say that you were eavesdropping?” Snowball
finally inquired, with a show of dignity.

“It is no worse to eavesdrop than it is to gossip about one’s closest
friends,” replied the beaver. “I have seen Miss Hare. I told her that
you were not pleased with your roommate, and she has ordered me to make
a change. In the future you shall room with Weenie Mouse.”

“How terrible!” exclaimed Puss, greatly shocked. “I shall be under
restraint all the time. Poor Rover! Perhaps he has had his hard times,
too. What if I should get vexed at Weenie and swallow him?”

“Miss Hare says that you will never do that, because her pupils are too
strong to yield to temptation,” said the beaver, seriously.

“But why does Miss Hare punish poor Weenie by making him room with a
cat?” gasped Puss.

“Because Weenie was found in Miss Hare’s pantry again, helping himself
to corn and other dainties,” replied Billy Beaver. “Miss Hare wishes
you to room with Weenie so that you can restrain each other. The best
way to cure two disturbers who dislike each other is to make them live
together.”

[Illustration: PANTRY]




CHAPTER XVI.


The little animals of Miss Hare’s school were glad when winter was at
an end. They were anxious to get out of doors; and, when the sun shone
warmer and the trees began to shoot forth their tender leaves, they
felt very happy, indeed.

[Illustration: TINY STUDIED HARD, THAT HE MIGHT BE ABLE TO GRADUATE
WITH HIS CLASS IN THE MONTH OF JUNE.]

Tiny studied hard, that he might be able to graduate with his class
in the month of June. He knew that to graduate did not mean to be
educated. A thorough knowledge of language and good manners were about
all that Miss Hare was capable of teaching, for the little creatures
of Animal Kingdom did not require as much learning as people of the
great business world. Miss Hare told her pupils many times that
the schoolroom is simply a place to teach the young how to educate
themselves. Tiny, from past experience, had learned that some of the
greatest lessons are taught outside the schoolroom. He often thought of
the owl prophet, the queen bee, and the City of Ants.

One day Miss Hare gave her pupils a lesson in pronouns, or words used
for names. These little words were at first troublesome to Tiny, but
Miss Hare made him use them over and over again, until he understood
them perfectly. In fact, the words _I_, _we_, _she_, _they_, _who_,
and _it_, used as subjects of sentences, and _me_, _us_, _him_, _her_,
_them_, and _whom_, used as the objects of verbs, became almost as
familiar to Tiny as were good Miss Hare’s spectacles.

In order to keep her pupils from forgetting what they had learned, Miss
Hare taught them the following little song, which they sang over and
over again:

  PRONOUNS.

  As the subject of a verb, we may use _I_;
  Thus, “It was _I_,” or “_I_ have caught a fly;”
        And we now will name a few
        Pronouns used as subjects, too:
  “It was _they_,” “It was _you_,” “It was _who_?”

  We may ask, “_Who_ saw the bee upon the rose?”
  Or, “_It_ was dressed in very modest clothes,”
        Or, “_Who_ scared the little bee?”
        “Was it any of us three?”
  “Was it _we_?” “Was it _she_?” “Was it _he_?”

  Pronouns may be used as objects, you may see;
  As, “Good health has kindly favored _him_ and _me_.”
        Or, “No matter what we do,
        Love will make _us_ strong and true;”
  “I love _her_,” “I love _him_,” “I love _you_.”

  We may ask, “From _whom_ did owls learn to boast?”
  Or, “Around _whom_ does the sunshine linger most?”
        Or, perchance, may cry in glee,
        “May good fortune come to _thee_,
  And to _her_, and to _him_, and to _me_!”

While they were singing their evening song, a knock was heard at the
door. Miss Hare, who was very cautious, went to the door and called out:

“Who is it?”

“Hoot, hoot, hoot!” was the response.

“To whom am I speaking?” continued the teacher, somewhat embarrassed.

“To Mr. Owl, who lives several leagues away,” was the polite reply.

“Whom do you wish to see?” asked Miss Hare.

“I wish to visit Miss Hare’s school.”

[Illustration: SHE OPENED THE DOOR AND ADMITTED THE OWL PROPHET.]

She opened the door and admitted the owl prophet, whose feathers were
smoothed down in perfect condition.

“I am very glad to see you,” said the teacher. “It is so seldom you go
abroad in the daytime that I am honored to have you visit us.”

“Between you and me, I have long been wishing for an opportunity to
visit your school,” returned the owl with a bow.

“With whom are you living now?” asked Miss Hare, offering him a perch
by the side of her desk.

“My brother and I are living with the Bat family. I grew tired of my
old castle, because it was at the edge of the great forest, and the
wind was too strong there. One night he and I were blown from our
perches. Mr. and Mrs. Bat took my brother and me to their home. It is
very comfortable there, and we owls like comfort, you know.”

Mr. Owl then looked over the class with his great, yellow eyes. For the
first time, Tiny observed that owls’ eyes do not move in their sockets
as the eyes of most creatures do; but that, to make up for that, nature
has made it possible for the owl to turn his head almost entirely
around to see objects. Miss Hare’s eyes were quite different from those
of Mr. Owl; for she had no eyelids, and Tiny had learned that, when
she slept, a thin white membrane covered her eyes.

“Will you remain awhile with my pupils and me?” asked Miss Hare.

“Thank you; I’ll stay a few minutes, if I don’t get too sleepy,” said
Mr. Owl.

When his eyes fell upon Tiny, the little squirrel made a polite bow;
but the owl prophet stared at him without speaking a word. He evidently
did not remember the squirrel.

“What has become of Chatty Chipmunk?” he finally asked, after Miss Hare
had again sat down at her desk.

“He left school some time ago,” said Miss Hare, in a pained voice.

“Why?”

“Because it was necessary to punish him. He was very saucy. Once he
ridiculed an animal because she had long ears.”

“Whom did he ridicule?”

“Me.”

“I am sorry for that,” said the owl prophet. “Who punished him?”

“I.”

“It served him right, and I am glad he left school,” said the owl,
flapping his wings in approval. “It makes no difference to either you
or me.”

“Certainly, not,” replied Miss Hare. “He is to blame, not I. The public
must blame him, not me.”

“I hope that I never shall bring you another such unworthy pupil,” said
the owl.

“You brought me one of the best pupils I ever had,” said Miss Hare,
pointing towards Tiny. “He is the little creature here on the front
seat.”

Mr. Owl stared at Tiny; and the little animal bowed politely, very much
embarrassed.

[Illustration: MR. OWL STARED AT TINY AND THE LITTLE ANIMAL BOWED
POLITELY.]

“Can it be he!” exclaimed the owl. “How you have grown, Tiny! Are you
really the squirrel whom I found but a few months ago?”

“Yes, I am the squirrel who was lost,” replied Tiny. “You told me how
to get back to Squirreltown, and taught me many things. I am grateful
to you, sir.”

Mr. Owl seemed greatly pleased, but he checked Tiny’s polite thanks by
saying:

“You look much like Chatty Chipmunk.”

“Yes, but he is smaller than I,” replied Tiny with another bow.

For a few minutes Miss Hare and Mr. Owl talked concerning the school.
It was evident to Tiny that Mr. Owl was one of the trustees and that he
was doing a great deal to make the school successful, as all trustees
should do.

At last he turned to the class and said:

“You must all study very hard; for soon the days will get warmer; then
you will have spring fever. I want each of the graduating class to
write a composition to be recited on the last day of school. A prize
will be given to the pupil who writes the best one. He that wins the
prize will be a very happy creature. Him that wins I will give another
prize of even greater value.”

The scholars were made very happy by this announcement of Mr. Owl; and,
while he was preparing to leave, they all rose from their seats and
stood in respectful silence until Miss Hare sat down again. Then they
began to study harder than ever before.




CHAPTER XVII.


When Tiny learned to write letters, he spent many happy hours
corresponding with his mother and his friends at Squirreltown. Almost
every day a messenger pigeon brought him a letter, which he read with
great pleasure. Here are a few of these letters that passed between
Beaver Creek and Squirreltown:

[Illustration: ALMOST EVERY DAY A MESSENGER PIGEON BROUGHT HIM A
LETTER.]

  Beaver Creek, Joy Co.,
  Animal Kingdom,
  May 1, ----.

  My Dear Mother:

  While you were sleeping away the long, cold winter, I was studying
  with all my might, trying to keep at the head of my class.

  I like Beaver Creek very much. Miss Hare is a good and capable
  teacher. I shall be sorry to graduate from here in June, and yet I am
  anxious to get back to Squirreltown again.

  The spring flowers are blooming all about Beaver Creek. I wish you
  could see how beautiful they are. The daisy, which is like a white
  star, opens with the morning sun. The morning glory shuts up its
  sweet petals before noon. The dandelion opens early, but closes when
  the heat becomes too great. The anemone, so blue and so fragile,
  sleeps at the approach of a storm; while the water lily curls up and
  hides itself in the mud at the bottom of the pond. The marsh marigold
  is a hardy little flower. It drinks, drinks, drinks, from morning
  till night, pleased with any kind of weather.

  I will tell you more about the beauties of Beaver Creek, one of
  these days. In the meantime, please write and tell me about dear old
  Squirreltown.

  Your affectionate son,
  TINY.

  Mrs. Jane Redsquirrel,
  124 Oak Avenue,
  Squirreltown,
  Animal Kingdom.

       *       *       *       *       *

  124 Oak Avenue,
  Squirreltown,
  Animal Kingdom,
  May 8, ----.

  My Dear Son:

  I was very glad to hear from you and to learn that you are well and
  happy.

  Dr. Flyingsquirrel, the mayor, and many of your friends inquire about
  you each day. Peggy and Bushy Graysquirrel, who have grown quite
  large since you saw them, are planning to give a party for you when
  you return.

  You will be glad to learn that Chatty Chipmunk returned home just
  before winter set in. He had been wandering for a long, long time.
  Once he thrust his inquisitive nose into a nest of yellow-jackets,
  and it took him a long time to recover.

  I feel so sorry for the Chipmunks. They are all, with the exception
  of Chatty, such active, industrious creatures. I fear he will never
  outlive the bad habits formed in his early youth. He does little but
  sleep in his round room at the end of the long hall, and eat large
  quantities of beechnuts.

  Now, my son, learn all you can. Do not eat too many acorns, and be
  sure to keep your fur clean and smooth.

  Your devoted mother,
  JANE REDSQUIRREL.

  Mr. Tiny Redsquirrel,
  Beaver Creek, Joy Co., Animal Kingdom.

       *       *       *       *       *

  Beech Hotel,
  Squirreltown, Animal Kingdom,
  May 14, ----.

  Dear Friend:

  I received your jolly letter, and I am going to show my appreciation
  by sending an early reply.

  Sister Peggy and I are spending a few days with our friend, Polly
  Blacksquirrel. We are all well, after our long winter’s nap, and are
  enjoying ourselves greatly.

  The other day, Polly took Peggy and me down to the pond to hear a
  famous orchestra. We sat upon a mossy seat close to the blue water,
  and patiently waited until all the musicians had come out of the
  water and had taken their seats on the green lily pads. The leader
  of the band was very pompous, and his white vest was covered with
  medals. I had to laugh at the airs he put on.

  The musicians, of course, were frogs, and they all wore green coats
  and white vests. They looked so odd with their bulging eyes and
  swelling throats! One large bull frog played a bass viol. He was a
  savage fellow, and, frequently, he would go down into the water to
  eat poor little tadpoles.

  Now you know that gray squirrels are more fond of music than are any
  other kind of squirrel; but, so far as I am concerned, I do not like
  to be too close to a frog orchestra.

  Is it not queer that frogs and fishes, both of which live in the
  water, are so unlike? Polly’s father said that if a frog keeps his
  mouth open very long, he will die; while a fish has to keep his mouth
  open most of the time to permit his breathing organs to act properly.

  Peggy and Polly join me in sending you our kindest regards.

  Your true friend,
  BUSHY GRAYSQUIRREL.

  Tiny Redsquirrel, Esq.,
  Beaver Creek,
  Animal Kingdom.

       *       *       *       *       *

  Beaver Creek, Joy Co., Animal Kingdom,
  May 18, ----.

  My Dear Dr. Flyingsquirrel:

  Mother told me that you would appreciate a letter from me; so, on
  this beautiful morning, I have decided to write to you.

  Yesterday, Miss Hare and we pupils were out in the thicket and on the
  great moor east of Beaver Creek. We were studying nature, by which to
  test the books that we read.

  My companion was Winkie Weasel. He has a long, lean body, and a
  short, black tail. He is very good-natured most of the time, but,
  occasionally, he gets very angry over small things. Then his nose
  seems to grow pointed, and his eyes turn green. He wears a yellow
  coat now. Later he will change it for a dark brown one, while in
  winter he wears white. Although Winkie takes things that do not
  belong to him and tries to act innocent, I like him because he is so
  bright and shrewd.

  Such a glorious day as it was! The birds were chattering all about
  us, building nests in which to rear their broods. Miss Hare said I
  was fortunate to be able to climb so well, for it gave me such good
  opportunities to inspect birds and their nests.

  Once we were startled by a loud thump! thump! thump! Then we heard
  a chorus of piping voices, and saw a covey of partridges running
  through the tall grass. They are peculiar little creatures, and they
  never try to run until some one almost steps upon them. They were out
  hunting for seeds, buds, and insects. Miss Hare told us that the
  partridge wears bristles that serve as snowshoes in winter, so it can
  walk on the soft snow without sinking.

  We saw pigeons fluttering about in the blue sky, while swallows, with
  graceful, slender wings, flitted by, busily building their nests.

  The sweet scent of spring had brought the cuckoos to the north. I
  could see one of them flying in a very straight line, his long tail
  steadying his flight. I have always loved the voice of the cuckoo;
  but I do not admire the bird, since Miss Hare has told me how very
  unprincipled she is.

  I should like to tell you about some of the other birds I saw, but I
  fear you would think my letter too long. Busy people like you do not
  like to waste so much time reading letters.

  Wishing you health and success, I am,

  Yours very respectfully,
  TINY REDSQUIRREL.

  Dr. Airy Flyingsquirrel,
  64 Hickory Ave.,
  Squirreltown, Animal Kingdom.

       *       *       *       *       *

  64 Hickory Ave.,
  Squirreltown, Animal Kingdom,
  May 25, ----.

  Dear Tiny:

  Your letter filled my heart with delight. We old squirrels appreciate
  letters from our young friends, and we are glad to be remembered in
  our declining years. The young who remember the old will be rewarded
  when they themselves are no longer young.

  I, too, fly about a great deal, studying the various birds and their
  eggs. You wrote about the cuckoo, and I agree with you that she is a
  very unprincipled creature.

  She lays her eggs on the hard ground, because she and her mate are
  too indolent to build a nest. She places her eggs in various nests
  for other birds to hatch. Usually she prefers robins’ nests, for they
  are very comfortable. You can imagine how surprised the robin or any
  other bird would be, when its brood hatches, to find among the number
  a large, healthy cuckoo with a wide mouth and an enormous appetite.
  But the kind foster parents feed the young cuckoo just as they do
  their own children.

  And what does the cuckoo orphan do to repay such kindness? He eats
  and sleeps and grows larger all the time; and, finally, one day when
  the old birds are away, he tumbles his foster brothers and sisters
  out of the nest, and stretches himself out comfortably, waiting
  for his dinner. The selfish, cruel bird never thinks of anyone but
  himself. When his foster parents return, they are grieved not to find
  their little ones, but they do not scold the cuckoo at all. They keep
  on feeding him until he is full-fledged. Then, on some bright day,
  he takes wings and flies away, leaving his foster parents to grieve
  after him.

  Jenny Wren is a neat, modest little body. Do you know her? She wears
  a plain brown gown, for she has so much to do she cannot dress very
  stylishly. Her wings are hard and stiff, so she can beat the air when
  she flies; but the feathers close to her tiny body are soft and warm.

  She likes to build her nest beneath the gnarled roots of a tree or
  against a stone in a bed of moss. It is covered with a little dome
  and has a tiny door, which opens on the sunny side. I once peeped
  into Jenny’s home and found it neat and cozy. An orderly housekeeper
  she is, I can tell you! Her bed is made of fine feathers, hair, and
  delicate grasses. The roof of her home is made of moss, twigs, and
  lichens.

  We are all very well, and we hope that you will call to see us soon
  after your return home.

  Cordially yours,
  AIRY FLYINGSQUIRREL.

  Mr. Tiny Redsquirrel,
  Beaver Creek,
  Joy Co., Animal Kingdom.




CHAPTER XVIII.


Reynard caught a cold just two weeks before Miss Hare’s school closed
for the summer. He was very ill, indeed; but Tiny, Snowball, and his
other friends did all they could to make him comfortable.

[Illustration: MISS HARE SPENT ONE EVENING WITH REYNARD. PUSS SNOWBALL,
WINKIE WEASEL AND TINY WERE PRESENT.]

Miss Hare spent one evening with Reynard. Puss Snowball, Winkie Weasel,
and Tiny were present. They had a pleasant time, in Reynard’s humble
room, which the stars made almost bright as day.

“Shall I get you some corn?” Miss Hare finally asked.

“I don’t want no corn,” groaned Reynard, whose head ached severely.

“Very well, I will bring you some,” said Miss Hare, rising to leave the
room.

“I don’t want no corn!” repeated Reynard, so surprised that his head
almost stopped aching.

“That means that you _do_ want some corn,” laughed Miss Hare. “I
suppose you meant to say that you _don’t_ want _any_ corn, or that you
want _no_ corn. Be careful what you say, Reynard, and never use two
denying words where the meaning needs but one. The other day I heard
you say, ‘I haven’t seen _nothing_,’ which meant that you must have
seen _something_. You also said, ‘He is _not_ doing _nothing_,’ which
meant that he was doing _something_.”

“Thank you, Miss Hare,” said Reynard, with chagrin. “I know that I am
sometimes very careless in the use of English. But now my head feels so
much better that perhaps, after all, _I don’t_ need _no_ corn.”

Miss Hare laughed again, with more pleasure this time, and gave him a
few kernels of corn which she had brought with her.

“Now we must do something to amuse Reynard,” said Miss Hare,
pleasantly. “What shall we do?”

“I should like to hear Snowball sing a song,” said Reynard. “He sings
good.”

“He does not sing _good_, but he sings _well_,” corrected Miss Hare, in
a low voice to Reynard. “Will you sing, Snowball?”

“I can’t sing to-night,” said Snowball. “I, too, have a bad cold.”

“You have a _severe_ cold,” said Miss Hare. “It is as wrong to say
that you have a _bad_ cold as it is to say that you received a _good_
whipping.”

Snowball was one of those individuals who do not like to be corrected,
so for a few moments he shrugged his shoulders and pouted.

Miss Hare turned towards Tiny and said in a cheerful voice:

“Perhaps Tiny will tell us about Squirreltown.”

“Good! good!” shouted enthusiastic Winkie Weasel, leaping awkwardly
into the air to show his delight. “Tell us about the time you wandered
through the great forest and did not know where you were at.”

“Fy, fy, Winkie!” cried his teacher, shaking with laughter. “How you
abuse such useful little words as _at_, _to_, and _for_. You make them
work when they should be resting. You say that Tiny did not know where
he was _at_, nor where he was going _to_, when you should say that Tiny
did not know where he was, nor where he was going. One should not place
_at_, _to_, _for_, or some other _unnecessary_ little word at the end
of a sentence.”

Snowball was very glad to hear the teacher correct Winkie, and soon he
regained his usual good humor.

“Winkie and I are both alike in our use of bad English,” he chuckled.

“You are especially apt to use unnecessary words, Snowball,” said Miss
Hare. “Why should you say ‘Winkie and I are _both_ alike,’ when it
takes less time to say, ‘Winkie and I are alike’?”

Snowball stared stupidly for a while, but did not seem vexed.

“I thought to myself that Snowball was making an incorrect statement,”
tittered Winkie.

“Of course, you thought to yourself,” said the teacher with a twinkle
in her eye. “You certainly could not think aloud.”

“No, but he knows how to laugh aloud,” said Snowball, somewhat
scornfully.

“Now, Tiny, you may tell us something about Squirreltown,” said Miss
Hare.

Tiny did not feel so brave about talking as he did on the day he tried
to address the mayor and citizens of his native town, for he knew that
his present audience was a very critical one. However, he began:

“A wide path leads into Squirreltown. At the place where it enters the
city it is very wide indeed. An oak tree stands on both sides of this
path--”

“How strange!” interrupted Miss Hare. “Isn’t it rather unusual for a
tree to stand on both sides of a path?”

“There are two trees,” stammered Tiny.

“Oh, I see,” said Miss Hare, a flash of understanding shining in her
eyes. “You mean to say that on _each_ side of the path there is an oak
tree.”

“Yes, ma’am,” replied Tiny, with a nod. “The trees in the city do not
contain many acorns, but these two trees are filled full of them.”

“Of course, if they are _filled_ with acorns, they must be _full_ of
them,” laughed Miss Hare. “It sounds as badly to say _filled full_ as
it does to say _little small_. Just how are the trees filled with
acorns, Tiny? Are the trunks hollow?”

“The branches of the two trees,” bravely continued Tiny, “bear so many
acorns that they could yield all the squirrels in the land an acorn.”

“Then the branches can not bear very many acorns,” said Miss Hare. “One
acorn could not very well be divided among such a host of squirrels.”

“I mean that these two trees could yield _each_ squirrel in the land an
acorn,” said Tiny, with energy.

“That is right,” said Miss Hare, much pleased. “Tiny is one who thinks,
and I believe that in time he will learn to speak correctly.”

“I have lived in Squirreltown nearly all my life, and--”

“How many squirrels live there?” interrupted the teacher.

“Several hundred,” replied Tiny, proudly.

“Then it is not such a great city, after all. It would be better to say
that you lived _at_ Squirreltown. When it becomes a great city, you can
say that you lived _in_ Squirreltown.”

“I lived on Oak Avenue--”

“It is better to say that you lived _in_ Oak Avenue,” suggested Miss
Hare.

“One day a bear met my mother with crooked teeth, and--”

“Who had crooked teeth, the bear or your mother?” tittered Snowball.

“The bear, to be sure,” retorted Tiny, growing quite indignant.

“You should place your helping phrases where they will give the right
meaning,” said Miss Hare. “There are many animals ready to make sport
of us if we are not careful to say just what we mean.”

“Really, I am so puzzled that I have forgotten what I intended to say,”
said Tiny, sitting down. “I cannot say properly where I am, or where I
live, or anything else. All I know is that I am very dull.”

“You are not dull,” declared Miss Hare. “When an animal finds out that
he has much to learn, it is a good indication that he really knows
something. Only the ignorant are satisfied with their own imperfect way
of speaking. Now I will sing for you a little lullaby that an otter
formerly sang to her little one every night:”

  SONG OF REST.

  “_Set_ down your basket, busy little one;
    Please _set_ it where it _sat_ yesterday,
  And let it _sit_ there while I sing the song
    You love to hear when daylight turns to gray.

  “Now you _have set_ the basket in its place;
    It _sits_ just where you _set_ it oft before.
  _Sit_ down beside me; do not speak a word,
    And I will hush my babe to sleep once more.

  “Now we _are sitting_ in the fading light,
    As we _have sat_ before so many times.
  While mother held you closely to her breast,
    And evening bells rang out their golden chimes.

  “_Lay_ down your toys, my busy little one.
    When you _have laid_ them down I’ll sing to you;
  We’ll let them _lie_ until the rosy morn
    Again peeps o’er the valley bathed in dew.

  “_Lie_ down; _lie_ closely as you _lay_ last night.
    See, mother _lies_ beside her little one,
  Just as she _lay_ last night to guard your rest
    Until the east was lighted by the sun.

  “Now _lie_ until your active little frame
    Is tired of _lying_ in the same old way;
  When we _have lain_ till sleep has sped again
    We’ll rise to greet another joyous day.”

Hardly had Miss Hare finished singing the lullaby, when Billy Beaver
began thumping with his tail to let all the students of Beaver Creek
know that it was time to retire.

“Goodnight, Reynard. I hope you will sleep well,” said the teacher
kindly. “Goodnight, Tiny and Snowball and Winkie. I hope that my
criticisms will benefit you. Remember that I meant them all in
kindness. Is there anything I can do for you, Reynard?”

“Yes, please,” said the fox, hoarsely. “Tell Billy to bring me a cold
pan of water.”

“Poor fox! Poor fox! I will tell him to bring you a pan of _cold
water_,” said Miss Hare, with a hearty laugh that set her long ears to
bobbing. “It makes little difference whether or not the _pan_ is cold.”




CHAPTER XIX.


On Saturday afternoon Tiny and Winkie Weasel went out for a frolic in
the forest beyond the river. Reynard Redfox had almost recovered from
his severe cold, but he stayed at home, thinking of the golden summer
so near at hand with its red strawberries and wild grapes.

Winkie came from a family of very bloodthirsty and suspicious
character, but Miss Hare’s teachings had made him as gentle as Weenie
Mouse. Although Tiny had been taught to shun weasels, he had become
quite fond of Winkie, because he was bright and active.

Side by side they made their way through the deep forest. The birds
sang merrily and the sun shone brightly. Lady’s-slippers with
lemon-colored pouches and long slender leaves grew in the damp, low
grounds. Occasionally a rose-colored one nodded its fairy head at them.

“Summer will come soon,” said Tiny, his voice ringing with happiness.

“Yes,” replied Winkie, as he stopped to sniff at a fallen log. “How
glad I am that cold weather has passed away!”

A turn in the path brought them to a clump of hazel bushes, where a
queer spectacle met their gaze. An animal covered with mud and moss
was trailing along towards the creek. A striped gopher, a queer little
animal with bloated cheeks and no neck at all, was annoying the poor
creature by jumping upon its back.

[Illustration: A QUEER LITTLE ANIMAL WITH BLOATED CHEEKS AND NO NECK AT
ALL WAS TORMENTING THE POOR CREATURE BY JUMPING UPON ITS BACK.]

“It is a turtle,” said Tiny, who had seen creatures of its kind before.
“It has just awakened from its winter slumber. You know that a turtle
settles down in the mud as soon as the frost kills the insects, and
there it stays until warm weather comes again.”

“Stop teasing that turtle!” cried Winkie to the gopher. “If you do not
cease, you shall feel the points of my teeth. Come here.”

The gopher jumped from the turtle’s back, and, holding his head to one
side, said good-naturedly:

“I am tired of teasing the slothful turtle, but I am not too tired to
run a race with you. Let us see which of us three will beat in a race.”

Winkie readily consented; but, just as they had drawn up in line to
take a dash down the narrow pathway, a deep growl resounded through the
thicket. Quick as a flash Winkie darted into a hollow stump.

[Illustration: “FOLLOW ME,” SAID THE GOPHER, AS HE DISAPPEARED INTO A
HOLE IN THE GROUND.]

“Follow me,” said the gopher, quite self-possessed, as he disappeared
into a hole in the ground. Tiny did not like the idea of being under
ground, nor was he fond of animals that burrow; but he obeyed, for he
was frightened. He trembled violently.

They entered a dark hall, at the end of which was a little, round room
containing a comfortable bed of soft grasses and fur.

“This is a cozy place,” said Tiny, sinking down to rest.

“It is my home,” said the little animal. “I suppose you know that I
am Jolly Gopher. It is fortunate that you happened to be so near my
residence when the panther happened along. Panthers are rare in this
temperate zone, and I am glad of it. What if the savage beast had
attacked me while I was riding? I am glad that you like my humble home.”

“It is a restful place for lazy animals, but I should not like to dwell
here,” said Tiny, frankly. “I always distrusted creatures that burrow
in the ground away from the air and sunshine, until I went to Miss
Hare’s school.”

“What has Miss Hare’s school to do with it?” asked the gopher, his
mouth open.

“I learned that Mother Earth,” said Tiny, “is kind indeed to poor
little defenseless animals, whom she protects from savage animals and
hunters. Animals all live where they can have the greatest safety. The
fish lives in the depths of the water, the squirrel in the tree, the
cricket under a rock, and the gopher in the ground. How fortunate it is
that we do not all live in the same place!”

“I am fond of living down in the ground,” resumed the gopher after a
moment of silence. “No panther nor any other beast bigger than myself
can meddle with my affairs. I saunter forth early in the morning and
fill my pockets with fresh, green things. You see that my pockets hang
down from my cheeks. I hurry back and stow away my food. When it rains,
I stay indoors and sleep and eat. A gopher’s life is a very peaceful
one.”

“I wish I might have pockets,” said Tiny, wistfully. “We squirrels
don’t have them, you know. I believe I am the only squirrel that
carries a hunting bag. It was made for me by a tailor bird. She is
a rare and curious bird who makes a nest that looks like a bag. She
selects tough leaves and sews them together with long, firm strips of
growing plants. She uses her bill as a needle.”

“How remarkable!” exclaimed the gopher. “I think it would be nicer to
carry a hunting bag than to have pockets in my cheeks. Sometimes my
pockets are so full I can’t get inside my house.”

“The bee also has pockets--six little pockets,” said Tiny, reflectively.

“And the opossum and several other animals have pockets in which they
carry their children,” added the gopher wisely.

“You seem to observe things as much as I do,” said Tiny, admiringly.

“Yes, I travel a great deal and have seen many queer things,” replied
the gopher, proudly.

[Illustration: SHE IS ABOUT THE ONLY ANIMAL THAT DOES NOT FEAR THE
STING OF A BEE.]

“Once I burrowed down into a badger’s home,” he went on. “I saw the
nursery with the little badgers playing about in their bed of moss and
grass. The mother badger was very civil to me. She is about the only
animal that does not fear the sting of a bee, because her skin is so
tough and her hair is so thick. It seems to me that of all animals, the
badger is treated with the greatest cruelty. When the hunters catch
her, they permit their dogs to torture her to death. The harder the
poor creature fights to get away, the worse they abuse her, and the
greater it pleases the cruel hunters. Sometimes the poor animal endures
this brutal treatment for a full day.”

“I have often heard that the verb _to badger_ means _to tease_, or _to
torment_,” said Tiny.

“I do not know anything about verbs,” replied the gopher, “but I do
know that some hunters are very cruel.”

“Have you ever seen a mole’s nest?” asked Tiny.

“Oh, yes, when I was quite small, I had the privilege of visiting one,”
replied the gopher enthusiastically. “You may think that the mole is a
very stupid animal, but I assure you that he is not.”

“An animal that lives in the dirt all the time couldn’t be very
intelligent,” interrupted Tiny. “Besides, his eyes and ears are so
small, he surely cannot see and hear well.”

“Little eyes and ears are often more keen than larger ones,” quickly
replied Jolly Gopher. “Do you suppose that a giraffe can see or hear
better than you can? It is fortunate that the mole has such tiny eyes
and ears, otherwise they would catch a great deal of dirt, as the
little animal burrows through the earth. The mole is very clean in
appearance. He sleeps three hours and then he works three hours as
long as he lives. He is a great builder; he sinks wells to quench his
thirst; he can run fast; he can swim; and he can fight. He loves his
home in the ground. He seldom comes out.”

“Does he have a nice bed like yours?” asked Tiny, much interested.

“Indeed, he has,” said the gopher. “His home is one of the most
wonderful things I have ever seen. It is reached by passing through one
of several long, straight halls. The walls are so solid that the rain
seldom leaks through. I went into one of these halls, and with some
difficulty made my way into another one, which was circular. From this
hall five passages led to another hall above my head. I stopped at the
foot of the nearest passage to rest. Then I went up. The upper hall was
circular, but not so large as the lower one. I knew that I was at the
summit of the mole hill, for I could plainly hear the birds singing
overhead. From this upper circular hall three more passages led down to
the main room. I went down into this room and sat very quietly there
for a few moments. I wondered why the mole had made it so difficult to
get into his house.”

“I suppose he wants to make his house as safe as possible,” suggested
the squirrel.

“Precisely so,” said the gopher. “If he and his family hear some
vicious animal coming through one of the long halls, they have a chance
to escape. The central room is a kind of fortress where they seek
protection.”

“Did you ever see any of the little moles?” asked Tiny, excitedly.

“No. I learned afterwards that their nursery was built at a point where
two or more of the long halls cross one another. It was situated in an
out of the way place with many avenues of escape. Their bed was made of
blades of grass and other soft material. I am sure that the nest of a
mole is safer than that of a goldfinch hanging high up in a tree. Why
does the goldfinch usually build her nest at the end of a branch?”

“Because she likes to have her nest dance up and down and sway about
in the breeze,” said Tiny. “The goldfinch builds very well. Her nest
is made of lichens and moss and sheep’s wool, and is so fashioned that
the little birds cannot roll out. What jolly times the goldfinches must
have teetering up and down in a roomy nest on a starlit night!”

“Yet they surely suffer when it storms, while the little moles are
never bothered by lightning and thunder,” quickly interposed the
gopher. “I suppose it is fortunate that all animals do not have the
same ideas about things.”

“I should like to hear something about prairie dogs,” said Tiny, after
a while.

“I will gladly tell you,” returned the gopher, settling himself more
comfortably. “Sometimes hundreds of prairie dogs live together in one
city. It is interesting to watch the round towers of their dwellings.
Most prairie dogs have small brown eyes and grayish-red fur. Although
they are agile little animals, they do not work much. You would laugh
to see them when they bark, for they shake their stumpy tails and jerk
to and fro. They yelp like dogs. Some of them act as guards and sit out
upon their roofs all day long, looking about the horizon. When an enemy
approaches, they bark loudly and rush into their houses, and all the
chattering ceases. For a while the city is as quiet as night; but, in
a few minutes, many inquisitive, dark eyes peep out to see if danger
still threatens them.”

“Their city must be a very lively place,” observed Tiny.

“Many other animals visit there,” said the gopher. “All kinds of
vicious creatures flock to a great city, you know. The prairie dogs
are often molested by hawks, burrowing owls, and coyotes. I believe I
prefer to live in the country.”

“I am quite satisfied with my mode of living, as we all should be,”
said Tiny. “I have been greatly benefited by learning about these
animals. If one should get blue or homesick or discouraged, it would
pay him to visit a gopher and find out how other less fortunate animals
live. Then he would return home quite contented with his lot. I thank
you for teaching me so much.”

“You are welcome,” replied the gopher. “I, too, have learned from you,
so we have been mutually helped. I never knew before that it is wrong
to engage in any kind of sport that gives pain to another. Henceforth I
will never tease a turtle or take a ride on his back.”

“I must go,” declared Tiny, rising from his downy couch.

“Stay longer,” pleaded the gopher. “The moon rises early, and--”

“That is no reason why I should go to bed late,” interrupted Tiny. “My
teacher may worry about me. Goodby, Mr. Gopher.”

“Goodby. You must come back,” replied the gopher sleepily.

Before Tiny could reach the door, his acquaintance with the pockets in
his cheeks was fast asleep.

The little red squirrel’s heart beat with joy and thankfulness when the
dewy air, laden with the sweet fragrance of early summer, again greeted
his nostrils. With nimble leaps he made his way through the leaf-strewn
pathway to the edge of the crystal stream. Before him lay the quaint
beaver houses that had become so dear to him, while beyond, the pink
western skies faded softly into gray, like the happy days of his youth.




CHAPTER XX.


About two weeks before the close of school, Miss Hare met with a
misfortune. Because of the great amount of work she had to do, grading
examination papers, her eyes became so weak that she scarcely could
use them. Tiny felt sorry for the patient, hard-working teacher, and
offered to be of assistance to her.

“You may come into the schoolroom and help me,” she said to him one
Saturday morning. “I have a number of important letters to write. You
are very painstaking, and I shall be glad to have your assistance.”

Tiny followed her into the room and sat down beside the desk, very
happy to be of some use to one he so thoroughly respected. The material
upon which he wrote was not so white and smooth as the paper used in
schoolrooms nowadays. It was simply birch bark that could be rolled
up and tied with heavy grass. The ink he used was the juice of the
pokeberry, and his pen was a goose quill.

[Illustration: AS SOON AS HE HAD WRITTEN A LETTER, HE ROLLED IT NEATLY,
ADDRESSED IT CAREFULLY, AND GAVE IT TO BILLY BEAVER, WHO CALLED A
CARRIER PIGEON.]

As soon as he had written a letter, he rolled it neatly, addressed it
carefully, and gave it to Billy Beaver, who called a carrier pigeon to
take it to its place of destination.

During the hour that Tiny spent in the schoolroom that morning, he
learned about money orders and drafts, for it is said that at one time
the more enlightened residents of Animal Kingdom made use of them.

Here are a few letters that Tiny either wrote or read for Miss Hare:

1. BUSINESS LETTER.

  Beaver Creek, Joy Co., Animal Kingdom,
  May 25,----

  Messrs. Sheep, Goat & Co.,
  63, 65, 67 Bleat Street,
  Herd City, Animal Kingdom.

  Gentlemen:

  Please send at your earliest convenience the following articles for
  use in my boarding school:

   2 quarts milk.
  15 pounds wool.
   1 dozen quills.

  I enclose money order for three dollars.

  Yours respectfully,
  (MISS) MOLLY HARE.

2. BUSINESS LETTER.

  Beaver Creek, Joy Co., Animal Kingdom,
  May 25,----

  Messrs. Fido, Carlo & Co.,
  Dogtown, Animal Kingdom.

  Gentlemen:

  Please send by Pony Express:

  1 uniform for janitor, size No. 3.
  2 yards horsehair cloth, as per sample.
  1 school bench, as per catalogue.

  Enclosed find draft for ten dollars ($10).

  Respectfully,
  (MISS) MOLLY HARE.

3. BUSINESS LETTER.

  118 Hill Avenue,
  Rolling City,
  May 16,----

  Miss Molly Hare,
  Principal, Beaver Creek School,
  Beaver Creek, Animal Kingdom.

  Dear Madam:

  For the enclosed money order ($1.25) please send to my address “The
  Beaver Creek School Journal” for one year, beginning next month.

  Yours truly,
  JUMPINGTON PRAIRIEDOG.

4. INFORMAL NOTE.

  Dear Miss Hare:

  Please excuse Glossy Marten from school all next week on account of
  illness in the family.

  Will you kindly tell her to travel via Central Route to avoid danger?

  Very respectfully yours,
  MRS. BEAUTY MARTEN.

5. INFORMAL NOTE.

  Dear Miss Turkey:

  Will you lay aside your work for a short time and dine with me
  Wednesday at 5 o’clock?

  Sincerely yours,
  MOLLY HARE.

6. FORMAL NOTE.

  Miss Pet Pheasant requests the pleasure of Miss Hare’s company on
  Tuesday evening, May thirtieth, from four to seven o’clock.

  13 Forest Edge Street.

7. NOTE OF ACCEPTANCE.

  Miss Molly Hare is pleased to accept Miss Pet Pheasant’s kind
  invitation for Wednesday evening, May thirtieth.

  Beaver Creek, May twenty-fifth.

8. INVITATION.

  Miss Brownie Mink
  at home
  Thursday evening, June first
  from six to eight o’clock

  14 Water Front

9. NOTE OF REGRET.

  Miss Molly Hare regrets that a previous engagement prevents her from
  accepting Miss Brownie Mink’s kind invitation for Thursday evening,
  June first.

  Beaver Creek, May twenty-fifth.

       *       *       *       *       *

“This has been a very pleasant task, I assure you,” said Tiny, when
his work was done. “I have learned how to write a business letter,
which is an important thing to know. I never before had heard of money
orders and drafts. You know we do not have those things, nor money, nor
stores, at Squirreltown.”

“Only a few of the more intelligent animals know anything about
business,” replied Miss Hare. “I know of only two large department
stores and three banks in Animal Kingdom. I have heard that the
ancient human beings used shells for money; but, finally, they
established the use of coins, because they were valued by all classes
of people. If the hunters would not molest us, Animal Kingdom would
imitate the human race and become very much enlightened. Some day I
hope you may visit the department store of Sheep, Goat & Co., and see
for yourself how animals are advancing in knowledge. I understand that
this great store employs almost a dozen clerks.”

“I have also learned how to write an invitation and notes of regret and
acceptance. They seem to be very simple in their construction,” said
Tiny, placing the quill in a shell filled with sand.

“No self-respecting animal should neglect his correspondence, no matter
how busy he may be,” said Miss Hare. “As a rule, one who hates to write
letters is one who cannot write them well. It is necessary that one
should write social and business letters, and learn how to make them
clear and forceful. Now you may rest. I thank you for your services,
Tiny.”

[Illustration]

The red squirrel, with a polite bow, returned to his room, much pleased
because he had pleased some one else.




CHAPTER XXI.


Tiny’s last ramble through the copse near Beaver Creek was one that
he never forgot. He was beginning to realize how much more pleasing
are the works of Nature when one really takes an interest in them. He
had learned to study even the snail in his shell house and the Venus’
fly-trap that catches insects.

“Aren’t the skies blue, and the trees and grasses green, and the music
of the birds sweet, and the busy hum of the insects inspiring?” he
asked himself again and again.

Once he stopped to admire the graceful foliage of the alder tree.

“That tree has some secrets hidden away that I mean to find out,” said
he, as he scurried up its smooth trunk. He gazed through the branches.
At last he espied a nest. It was built of coarse sticks.

“What an odd place for a jay bird’s home!” he exclaimed. “I never could
understand why the jay does not build a comfortable nest like that of
the robin. Perhaps he fears he might spoil his little ones by making
them too comfortable.”

Next he saw a queer object that held his attention for a long time. A
caterpillar was hanging from a leaf. Tiny thought that it was about
to fall, but the little worm held fast with all its might. It was
attaching a fine thread to the point of a leaf, but it worked harder
than the man who fells a tree.

“Do not molest that caterpillar,” said a voice from a limb overhead.

Tiny looked up and saw a peculiar animal with a long, pointed face
and sharp teeth, hanging head downward from a limb overhead. With a
startled cry, the squirrel hid in a thick branch.

“You need not fear me, for I do not eat squirrels,” said the odd
creature. “I am looking for birds. I should think you would be ashamed
to attack a poor little caterpillar.”

“Never in my life have I molested a caterpillar,” declared Tiny. “I
should think you would be ashamed to attack birds.”

“Well, everything depends upon the point of view,” replied the larger
animal. “I am not responsible if my views do not agree with your own,
for I see things upside down.”

[Illustration: “WHY DO YOU HANG BY YOUR TAIL?” TINY ASKED.]

“Why do you hang by your tail?” asked Tiny. From his hiding place he
peeped at the curious animal.

“Because I am an opossum, and I am wise enough to know that tails were
made to hang by. I couldn’t hang by my neck, could I?”

“I suppose not,” replied Tiny, with a laugh. “Reynard, Snowball, and
Rover have strong tails. I will tell them that they should cultivate
the use of them, as the opossum does.”

“I’ll be glad to teach them how,” said the opossum, not in the least
offended at the squirrel’s amusement. Tiny drew closer to get a better
view of his new acquaintance. He could look into his eyes.

“Reynard, Snowball, or Rover is going with me to-morrow. I should like
you to teach some of your amusing tricks to the one who comes.”

The opossum laughed so hard that Tiny feared he would lose his hold and
fall upon him.

“Neither Reynard, Rover, nor Snowball is likely to be benefited by
anything that I may teach him,” said the opossum, evidently much
pleased by Tiny’s suggestion. “Neither the birds nor the animals admire
me.”

“I do not dislike you,” said Tiny, truthfully.

“I am not so dull as one might think. I can sit up and I can hang by my
tail.”

“I can sit up, but I cannot hang by my tail,” said Tiny. “Some
squirrels can fly, but I am sure I can beat any flying squirrel in
a race. A red, a gray, and a black squirrel live close together at
Squirreltown. The mayor sends them with messages to other neighboring
towns. They are as swift as lightning.”

“Perhaps you wonder why I am looking so closely at that caterpillar,”
said the opossum, without stopping to argue concerning the fleetness of
squirrels. “All morning long I have watched with anxious eyes.”

“Perhaps you want to see what he is trying to do,” suggested Tiny.

“The caterpillar does not interest me at all,” said the opossum
rather brusquely. “I am waiting for a bird to come along to catch the
caterpillar. Before the bird catches the worm, I shall catch the bird--”

“And perhaps some hunter will catch you before you can catch the bird,”
interrupted Tiny.

“You are right,” said the opossum. “Every animal always seems to be
ready to catch another one. I like pretty birds as you like plump
acorns. A yellow, brown, and blue bird is a very attractive creature.
An ugly sparrow is not half so pleasing to me as a golden oriole.”

“I am sorry that you like to destroy birds,” said Tiny, who had
learned to love the little feathered songsters of the forest. “You are
cowardly. You attack birds. They are smaller than you.”

“I am cowardly but cautious,” returned the opossum. “I should be
foolish to try to capture an eagle. I have caught six little birds this
morning. The first, second, and third birds were sparrows. The fourth,
the fifth, and the sixth birds were robins.”

“The poor things surely did not suffer long. Your mouth is so large and
your teeth are so sharp,” said the red squirrel.

“Where do you live?” inquired the opossum, still gazing at the
caterpillar.

“I came from Beaver Creek,” answered Tiny. “I am out to-day to study
Nature.”

“Then you needn’t spend any more of your time here. There are other
things to see,” snapped the opossum. “Your incessant chatter is keeping
the birds away.”

“Where do you live?” asked Tiny, wishing to save as many birds as
possible.

“Close by,” replied the opossum indifferently. “I live in a dead tree.”

“What has become of the caterpillar?”

“It is still working away. It is a remarkable toiler. Now it has
succeeded in bending back the point of the leaf and has fastened it
down with bits of thread.”

“It has curled the leaf until it looks like a little tube with a very
round hole at each end,” said Tiny, much interested.

“Caterpillars make houses of leaves,” explained the opossum.

“How very odd!” exclaimed the squirrel.

“That depends upon the point of view,” repeated the opossum. “Insects
breathe through holes along their sides. You have lungs. Through these
lungs you breathe. Both of these methods of breathing might seem very
odd to the fish, who breathes through his gills.”

“How can the caterpillar turn around in such a small house?” asked Tiny.

“It doesn’t wish to turn around,” said the opossum. “The caterpillar
does not wiggle so much as the squirrel. It knows that big houses are
seldom half as cozy as smaller ones. As soon as it gets settled down to
housekeeping, it begins to eat its little green house.”

“How funny!” chuckled Tiny.

“Before very long it eats itself out of house and home,” said the
opossum.

“What would you do if a hunter were to steal up and club you?” asked
Tiny, more interested in the quadruped than in the worm.

“If a hunter should attack me, I would drop down and play that I was
dead,” was the answer.

“Once Snowball pretended to be asleep when Billy Beaver called him,”
said Tiny. “Billy said that Snowball was ‘playing ’possum.’ Now I know
what he meant.”

“I suppose that the opossum is not the only animal that tries to
deceive,” said the opossum, with a yawn.

“I see that you are sleepy,” said the squirrel. “I must go to my
home. I wonder why animals are so impolite as to yawn when they are
entertaining company.”

“Perhaps it would be better for you to say goodby before your
entertainers tire of you,” retorted the opossum.

This advice was a golden gift to Tiny. He never forgot it. With a
courteous farewell, he hastened down the trunk of the tree. When he
reached the ground, he stopped a moment to gaze overhead. The opossum
was asleep among the branches.

“He had better be sleeping than killing birds,” said Tiny, gratefully.
“I shall visit the opossum often and keep him out of mischief. This
afternoon has been well spent. I have stood between the birds and their
enemy.”

[Illustration]




CHAPTER XXII.


The last day of school rolled round. The pupils of the Beaver Creek
School were in a state of pleasant excitement. They smoothed their
feathers or brushed their fur until they were as sleek as could be. All
the civilized animals for miles around were present. Mr. Owl, looking
wiser and more serious than ever, was the first visitor to arrive. Miss
Hare, with earrings hanging from her long ears and a wreath of white
blossoms on her head, greeted him warmly. Soon after, Mother Goose, the
most beloved fowl in Animal Kingdom, waddled into the main building in
good time. Sammy Rabbit’s relatives followed her, also Puss Snowball’s
mother and aunt.

Billy Beaver and his friends had erected a platform in the creek, and
upon its smooth surface had built a green bower. The messenger pigeons
had adorned this bower with beautiful flowers, and the pupils had
filled in the rough places of the floor with pretty shells and pebbles.

On the shady bank across the way, the larger animals of the wood had
gathered. Tiny could see them plainly as he sat in his room, brushing
out his long tail. There were Mr. Goat, of the great department
store, and his daughter, Miss Nannie; the Otter family in their best
garments; Miss Mink, a close friend of Miss Hare; several from the
Badger family; and, in the background, as modest as could be, Mr.
Opossum, Jolly Gopher, and the Ferret brothers.

While awaiting the signal of Billy Beaver, Tiny was visited by Shifty
Woodchuck, who carried a soiled composition.

“Won’t you please help me?” whined Shifty, as he thrust the composition
between Tiny’s forepaws. “You know I was to graduate with your class,
but Miss Hare will not let me.”

[Illustration: “WON’T YOU PLEASE HELP ME?” WHINED SHIFTY.]

“Pupils that fail should not blame their teachers. It is entirely your
own fault,” said Tiny, looking over the careless manuscript.

“I wish I hadn’t slept so much last winter,” continued Shifty,
ruefully. “However, I believe that if Miss Hare will let me read my
composition, I will get the prize. Miss Hare says I cannot read it
properly, because it is carelessly written. Please tell me what is the
matter with it. To me it looks very well. I have spent nearly an hour
in writing it.”

“If you ever intend to write a good composition, you will have to work
longer than an hour,” said Tiny. “You will have to read things that
will help you, and you must exercise great care. Moreover, you must not
postpone your work until the last minute.”

Tiny, with great difficulty, read Shifty’s composition, which was as
follows:

  one saturday Afternoon in may

  “the first may Holiday was beautiful! the sun shined bright. birds
  twittered and sung sweetly the flowers were in bloom. nature was
  happy. warm weather had came. mister beaver and me went for a stroll.
  how our hearts thrilled with Joy? We stopped by the Creek. us animals
  like the water

  the clear sparkling waves passed by us. hark sweet music comes from
  the brook and the forest they cried.

  come into the woods mister beaver i said, are you afraid of the tall
  trees.

  i will set here says he. a Beaver don’t wander into the Thicket, he
  prefers the Creek. daisys and violets may be pretty but spatter-docks
  is prettier, you can go if you wish, and I will stay here.

  i replied that Woodchucks squirrels rabbits and many other animals
  preferred the wild flowers. i ran to the bushes. o how cool they
  seemed. they were green and fragrant with blossoms, the leaves of
  the trees were bigger than their’s but they wasn’t more beautiful. i
  wandered for a hour through the woods. i seen a birds’ nest and many
  interesting things, a active guinea hen was hiding among the Ferns
  with her brood

  a few deers were laying behind a pile of brush, they run when i
  approached. i could heer wild geeses’ cries. every animal of the
  forest were moving about. in each glade was a hundred live creatures.
  i went back to the brook, mister beaver was waiting for me.

  “did you have a pleasant time he asked lazily?”

  the forest is grand i cried joyously. the animals of the forest are
  rejoicing while you are setting by this brook with a long face.

“What is wrong with it?” inquired Shifty, when the red squirrel had
finished reading. “I am sure that it is as well written as the others,
for I am a good speller and have learned not to use bad grammar.”

“Everything is wrong with it,” said Tiny, frankly, although he was too
polite to make fun of Shifty’s ignorance.

At that moment Billy Beaver began thumping with his long tail.

“Read it over very carefully many times, and perhaps you may be able to
find your mistakes,” said Tiny, as he hastened out into the sunlit air.

From the top of the bower over the platform a chorus of goldfinches,
swallows, robins, and wrens began singing “Hail to Spring.” At the
same time Miss Hare, followed by the graduating class, came out of the
schoolroom, and, with great dignity, made her way to the platform. Miss
Hare seated herself upon a mossy cushion, while the graduating class
sat near her, forming a semicircle. The graduates were Susie Goose,
Sammy Rabbit, Winkie Weasel, Puss Snowball, Rover Canine, Reynard
Redfox, and Tiny Redsquirrel.

At the close of the song, which was followed by loud cries of applause,
Mr. Owl, who sat upon a branch in front of the platform, said that the
class would proceed to deliver their compositions. He added that a
prize would be given to the one who had the best theme, and that Miss
Hare, Mother Goose, and he would be judges.

When this announcement was made, Mother Goose rose from her comfortable
seat by the side of the Misses Pea Fowl and Guinea, and flew to a seat
beside Mr. Owl. The audience cheered again more loudly than before.

[Illustration: SAMMY RABBIT WAS THE FIRST OF THE CLASS TO SPEAK.]

Sammy Rabbit was the first of the class to speak. Leaping to the front
of the platform, he faced his audience, and, with a profound bow, read
as follows:

  SOME QUEER CREATURES I HAVE SEEN.

  One day our teacher sent us out to study Nature. She said that we
  should observe the simplest things, for often they were the most
  instructive.

  My friend, Puss Snowball, went with me. Both of us were anxious to
  improve our time. We animals are fast friends.

  Three merry little ferrets darted across our pathway. We followed
  them, but finally gave up the chase. Snowball’s fur was filled with
  briers and thistles; I was covered with mud, and had to bathe in the
  brook. How we laughed! At last we decided that we would study the
  smallest and simplest things, as our teacher had told us to do.

  We found some earthworms in the soft loam. These little creatures
  burrow into the soil when the first frost comes. They spend the
  winter deep in the ground, where the cold cannot reach them. They do
  not mind if it blows and snows.

  We saw a katydid. He was of a pale green color. His gauzy wings had
  little covers that looked like drums. He rubbed the drums briskly,
  and the music that he made was very cheerful. Did you ever hear the
  katydid’s shrilling? The katydid, however, is very small.

  We saw two interesting spiders in the brook. Spiders have eight legs,
  while true insects have only six. One of these little creatures
  had made a silken diving-bell that resembled a tiny silver globe.
  The other had made a raft of weeds, fastened together with silken
  threads. Then they went slowly downstream to catch insects that might
  fall into the water. Spiders, although quite tiny, are very clever.
  When spiders sleep, they sleep soundly; when they work, they work
  industriously; when they fight, they fight fiercely.

  Ants, bees, and wasps are interesting. The fly, too, is worthy of
  study. It has four thousand small eyes. Observe it carefully.

  Nature is full of wonderful, beautiful things--but I shall not have
  time to tell any more about the queer creatures I have seen.

Sammy’s composition was much appreciated. He had chosen a simple,
familiar subject and kept it plainly in mind.

Winkie Weasel met with less favor, for he had undertaken to write
about something that was beyond his understanding. One can imagine
how much a little weasel would know about “The Growth of Intellectual
Perspicuity.” He stumbled over the long words in a way that made all
the little prairie dogs in the front row titter in a very impolite
manner. Weenie Mouse became so much frightened that he scampered away,
long before it was time for him to recite, and caused quite a panic
amongst the members of the Hen family.

The other compositions were well written, although Puss Snowball’s was
spoiled by a singsong delivery.

Occasionally, the frog orchestra, from their green lily pads close by,
would play a spirited air; and Jenny Wren, a nervous little body, who
twitched every time she reached a high note, sang “Happy Woodlands.”

[Illustration: TINY REDSQUIRREL WAS THE LAST OF HIS CLASS TO APPEAR
BEFORE THE AUDIENCE.]

Tiny Redsquirrel was the last of his class to appear before the
audience. With becoming modesty, he rose, saluted the judges and his
hearers, and recited in a loud, clear voice:

  HAPPINESS EVERYWHERE.

  There is a spell in every flower,
    A sweetness in each spray;
  And every single bird has power
    To please us with its lay.

  And there is music on the breeze
    That sports along the glade;
  The crystal dewdrops on the trees
    Are gems by fancy made.

  Oh, there is joy and happiness
    In everything we see!
  But greatest joys we shall possess
    Through truth and purity.

When he had finished, all the animals near and far gave vent to
tremendous applause, for animal audiences are not so hard to please as
those composed of human beings. Mr. Opossum became so enthusiastic that
he shouted at the top of his voice:

“Hurrah for Mr. Redsquirrel! One cannot judge by the size of a
creature how much he can say.”

Miss Hare joined the other two judges, and for a few moments they held
an earnest conversation among themselves, while the audience sat in
breathless expectation.

Finally, Mother Goose descended from her perch and waddled to the front
of the platform, where she faced the eager listeners and said in a
shrill, but kindly voice:

“Animals of the forest, the judges have decided that the prize should
go to Mr. Tiny Redsquirrel of Squirreltown!”

Turning to the embarrassed but happy little squirrel, she pulled from
her wing a quill, which she gave him with a low bow, saying:

[Illustration]

“This quill was taken from my wing. No creature is more respected by
the human race and all other animals than I am. Anyone who receives
a quill pen made from one of my feathers will be famous ever after.
Accept this reward for your excellent poem and your good scholarship;
but bear in mind that every achievement is but a camping place for the
night.”




CHAPTER XXIII.


Tiny never forgot the pleasant half hour that followed his graduation.
Although he felt happy, he was sorry to leave dear old Beaver Creek
with its many delightful associations. After waving a friendly farewell
to Mr. Opossum, Jolly Gopher, and his other chance acquaintances, he
turned to bid his classmates goodby. The bird choir was still singing
its sweetest airs.

“Your poem was very good for a beginner,” said Miss Hare, with a smile.
“I suspect that you spent much time in its preparation.”

“I expect to write a better one in a year from now,” replied Tiny.

“You did not get frightened at all,” said timid Katie Goose, who had
been unable to read her composition loud enough for her audience to
hear.

“One is never afraid of an audience unless he is afraid of himself,”
said Tiny. “I hope your future life will be happy, Katie.”

“Thank you,” replied Katie. “I want to be a lovely character like my
aunt, dear old Mother Goose.”

“I want to thank you for your kindness to me, Mr. Owl,” continued
the squirrel, running to where the wise trustee of the school sat
listening to the merry chorus of voices. “I have done nothing to pay
for my board and tuition. In fact, I never knew there was such a thing
as money, and that animals should pay for what they get from others,
instead of trying to steal it.”

“Do not worry about that,” said the owl, kindly. “Miss Hare’s school is
free to pupils that cannot pay. It is kept up by taxes paid by the good
citizens of Joy County. In this day of free schools, it is a terrible
crime for animals to neglect their education.”

“I shall organize a school in Squirreltown as soon as I return,” said
Tiny. “The little ones would be more benefitted if they would exercise
their brains as well as their legs.”

“I wish you success,” said the owl prophet, kindly. “Your education has
just begun. Even if you should live as many years as a turtle does, you
would never learn all there is to know. Most squirrels observe closely,
but almost every squirrel does not think as much as he should.”

“I am going now,” said Tiny. “Please also accept my thanks for your
kindness to my mother during my absence from home. I hope you will come
to Squirreltown and give me a chance to entertain you.”

“Thank you,” replied the owl. “I should be glad to carry you home, but
I believe you are old enough to find your own way. There are many other
lessons for you to learn, and there are other dreadful battles that you
must fight alone. Always be brave and hopeful, no matter what befalls
you.”

Tiny bade Miss Hare goodby, and she wished him success. He tried to
find Billy Beaver, but the good janitor had already started up creek to
his work. One by one the graduates left the school for their various
homes, and, when Tiny started forth on his journey, Beaver Creek was
quiet and deserted. With a sigh of regret he gazed back at the domes of
the buildings, and in his heart wished that he might return.

As he turned into the narrow path that led to the north, he heard the
noise of pattering feet. In a few moments Winkie Weasel was beside him,
panting heavily.

“I am going with you as far as Deertown,” said he. “What a pleasant
visit we shall have on the way! You were always kind to help me with my
lessons, and I thank you.”

“I suppose you are anxious to get back home,” said Tiny, as they
hurried along.

“Not very,” replied Winkie, seriously. “My home is not pleasant.
However, I am going to try to exert a good influence over those with
whom I live. Weasels fight most of the time, you know. I shall try to
teach them that vegetables are as wholesome as meat, and that weasels
would be just as healthy if they did not eat every little animal that
crossed their path.”

For a long time they chatted concerning their classmates and the
graduating exercises. They praised their teacher’s elegant manners,
Mrs. Goose’s excellent morals and grand air, the pretty faces of the
Otter sisters, the beautiful bower that Billy Beaver and his friends
had made, and the neat schoolroom. Winkie congratulated Tiny again and
again upon his splendid victory.

When it grew dark, they stopped to rest. Tiny, with the quill Mother
Goose had given him securely tied to his body, carefully climbed a
tree. He found a cozy spot sheltered by broad leaves. In the meantime,
Winkie found comfortable quarters in a hollow log. Soon they fell
asleep.

In the middle of the night an awful storm arose. The lightning flashed
and the thunder roared. The trees bent and swayed in the angry winds.
It seemed to Tiny that the world was coming to an end; but he was brave
and hopeful, for he knew that the sunshine would be bright on the
morrow.

When the storm had abated somewhat, he fell asleep again. However, he
slept badly. He thought some cruel animal was about to spring upon him
and swallow him in one gulp. He was a really brave little creature, but
such dreams are prone to disturb even the boldest animal.

He shuddered and opened his eyes with a start. Not six feet away two
terrible eyes of fire were fixed upon him. He then knew that his dream
was real. In the flash of lightning that followed, he could see a large
animal about to spring at him. Its legs were powerful, its feet were
heavy, and its claws glistened. Another flash of lightning revealed the
pointed ears of the terrible beast.

Tiny tried to escape, but the branch of the tree was slippery with
rain. In a twinkling he received a terrific blow from an enormous paw.
Then followed a crash of thunder, an angry roar, and the frightened
shriek of a poor helpless squirrel.

“Oh, save me from the lynx--the lynx!” he cried.

Both he and the bloodthirsty creature had fallen to the ground. Tiny
knew that in another moment he might meet with a tragic fate. Another
flash of lightning showed the lynx, with his fur standing straight and
his back curled, ready to pounce upon him.

[Illustration: WHEN THE LIGHTNING FLASHED AGAIN HE DASHED FORWARD AND
THRUST THE PEN INTO THE DELICATE NOSTRILS OF THE LYNX.]

Darkness came again. Tiny was so badly stunned for a while that he
could hardly move. He stood dumbly awaiting the final blow. Then a loud
roar of pain resounded through the forest. It was evident to Tiny that
some creature was attacking the lynx. The little squirrel unloosened
the pen that had been given him. When the lightning flashed again, he
dashed forward and thrust it into the delicate nostril of the lynx.
There was another cry, more of surprise than of pain, and the ferocious
animal disappeared in the blackness of night.

“We are safe now,” said Winkie Weasel’s welcome voice. “It is fortunate
that I came with you. Just as the lynx was about to destroy you, I
rushed out of the stump and gave his tail a bite that he will not soon
forget. I think, judging by the way he yelled, he must have thought he
was struck by lightning.”

Tiny was too weak to reply. He stood shivering in the rain, yet he
was grateful that he had learned the value of friendship. Winkie, who
enjoyed dreadful encounters, pushed him back into the stump that he
might protect him through the night. There they remained until daybreak.

“Now, forget about the lynx and don’t be so cast down,” were the first
words that Winkie said on the following morning. “Don’t hold any
ill-will towards him. He was only thinking what a fine meal you would
make. All animals are looking out for themselves.”

A turn in the long path brought them into Deertown. A number of red
deer were lying together upon the grassy turf. They had slept well, for
the branches of the trees had formed a thick canopy over their heads.
A stag with a reddish-brown coat and big branching antlers was guarding
them. Several pretty fawns with brown eyes and white coats were playing
hide-and-seek in the bushes. Although deer are quick to hear the
footsteps of larger animals, they paid no heed to the little newcomers.

[Illustration: “ISN’T THE STAG A NOBLE-LOOKING CREATURE?”]

“Isn’t the stag noble-looking!” cried Tiny. “What a big creature he is!”

“He is very proud,” said Winkie, less admiringly. “He is also selfish,
for he becomes angry if any other stag comes inside his family circle.”

“Isn’t it fortunate that we don’t have to wear antlers?” laughed Tiny.
“How funny you would look, Winkie, with horns or antlers!”

“It is said that one can tell the age of a stag by looking at his
antlers,” replied Winkie, with the sprightliness that Tiny enjoyed.
“Perhaps Mother Goose is thankful, too, that she doesn’t have them.”

Not far beyond Deertown, the two associates separated. Tiny was to go
directly north, while Winkie was to pass through several winding paths
to Weasel Bog.

“Goodby, Tiny. Carry your prize safely home, and tell your mother that
you well deserved it,” said Winkie. “Some day I will bring my family to
see you.”

“I am afraid you wouldn’t be very welcome in Squirreltown,” said Tiny.
“However, I will meet you alone at any time you suggest. I will fetch
you something good to eat.”

“Squirrels are all right in their bad opinions of weasels,” said
Winkie, regretfully. “I never thought how scandalous my family would
act, if I took them to Squirreltown. I do not wish to visit your
village, but I will meet you at any place you may suggest. I want to
see you only. Let me hear from you often.”

“All right,” replied Tiny, cheerily.

With another farewell he turned north and ran as fast as he could. Two
or three times he stopped to eat some delicious acorns and other food
he found by the wayside, for Nature has bountifully provided for the
squirrel race.

He might have reached home without any more dreadful encounters, had
it not been for his curiosity. While resting on the lower branch of a
beech tree, he saw an animal with soft, silky fur, fast asleep on the
bough above his head. He did not know that the pretty, innocent-looking
creature was a wild cat, one of the most terrible beasts of the wood.
The thoughtless squirrel stole noiselessly to the side of the sleeping
animal and made a shrill, screeching noise.

[Illustration: HE RAN WITH ALL HIS MIGHT ALONG THE PATH.]

The wild cat awoke. Instantly it changed to a ferocious monster, with
ruffled fur and eyes that seemed to shoot forth flames. With a snarl of
rage, it dashed at its disturber. Tiny, whose heart beat wildly, dashed
down the tree. Instead of seeking refuge in some knothole, he ran with
all his might along the path. He expected to be killed at any moment.
Horror made him run all the faster, for he knew that the wild cat was
the most dreadful animal he could possibly arouse.

Over fallen twigs and branches the frightened squirrel leapt, little
thinking of other dangers that might befall him. At last his strength
began to fail. He knew that he could hold out but a few minutes longer.
Torn by brush and briers, he ascended an oak tree. A little door stood
ajar. He rushed through the tiny opening and fell prostrate.

When he regained his senses, a little gray animal with liquid dark eyes
was bending over him.

“Bushy Graysquirrel!” he cried in delight.

“I am very glad to receive you in my new home,” was Bushy’s welcome
greeting.




CHAPTER XXIV.


“I am so glad to see you!” exclaimed Tiny. “I was running away from a
wild cat, and met you by accident.”

“I saw you running,” answered Bushy. “However, I did not see a wild
cat. Squirrels run faster than wild cats, so I suppose he gave up the
chase.”

“I am not a coward,” declared the red squirrel, somewhat embarrassed,
“but I think it is best to run when a wild cat comes into one’s life.”

“In this forest are few wild cats,” asserted Bushy. “They seldom
disturb us, unless they are provoked.”

“What are you doing here?” asked Tiny, when he had fully recovered from
his shock.

“I live here in the country now,” was the reply. “Perhaps you do not
know that I have a mate. He is out getting acorns for our luncheon. Of
acorns there is a great plenty in this part of the woods. They cover
the ground.”

“Has Squirreltown changed much?” he inquired.

“You would hardly know the place,” answered the gray squirrel. “All
our playmates have grown up. Peggy and her mate live in the city, and
Polly Blacksquirrel and her mate own the big beech by the brook. Dr.
Flyingsquirrel has retired from business on account of his great age.
He must be nearly five years old. Your mother, however, is well and
happy. Many citizens has Squirreltown. Not one in a hundred leaves it
for the country. I--”

“Do you ever visit there?” interrupted Tiny.

“Neither of us has been back for some time,” said Bushy. “We will go
over to-night to attend the celebration.”

“What celebration?”

“One which is to be given upon your return home,” laughed Bushy.

Tiny then remembered that Mr. Owl had promised the winner of the prize
a still greater reward. He felt very grateful and happy, but did not
think it polite to question Bushy any further.

After a short visit with his old friend, Tiny bade her goodby, and
resumed his journey. He hurried along almost as fast as he did when he
thought the wild cat was after him, for he was anxious to see his dear
old home once more, and to receive his mother’s welcome greeting.

While he was drinking at a small stream, he heard a shrill cry. Before
he could turn round, he was pushed off his feet. Over and over he
rolled, until he almost fell into the water.

“Tiny, Tiny, I am so glad to see you!” cried a well known voice.

“Chatty Chipmunk!” exclaimed Tiny, equally delighted; for there was his
earliest playmate dancing about like a wild creature. “Never before
have I received such an unexpected greeting.”

“I learned that you would be home to-day, and have come to meet you,”
continued Chatty. “Near the city wait a number of your old friends. I
couldn’t stand still, so here I am.”

“Are you still fond of playing?” asked Tiny, somewhat amused at his gay
friend.

“Yes. I don’t suppose that I ever shall take life seriously,” was the
laughing reply. “Nature never intended that I should work or study.
However, I have a thrifty mate, and she makes a very comfortable living
for me. Every one of those animals at Squirreltown avoids me, but I do
not care.”

“If I were mayor of Squirreltown, I would make you work or let you
starve,” said Tiny, severely.

“Your education has not improved your appearance,” said Chatty, quickly
changing the subject. “You look old and all mussed up.”

“Animals who spend all their time in study are apt to become careless
of their personal appearance,” explained Tiny. “You forget, however,
that I have had a long journey, and that animals of good taste do not
try to look too sleek when they travel. They do not wish to attract
attention.”

“Of what use are books and study?” inquired Chatty.

“They are of no use to such as you,” replied the squirrel impatiently.

“And what are you doing with that old goose quill strapped to your
back?”

“That is the prize I won for good scholarship,” said Tiny, rather
disdainfully.

“How funny!” cried the chipmunk, laughing until his sides ached. “How
could an animal spend so much time studying, just to win a goose quill?”

“You and I do not see things alike, Chatty,” said Tiny, with an air of
superiority. “It is not possible for an uneducated animal like you to
feel the noble sentiment that makes this goose quill dear to me.”

“You are as queer as some human beings,” declared Chatty. “I have heard
of a silly man that studied for many years to win an old piece of
sheepskin.”

Tiny wisely forbore further argument. After a few minutes’ rest was
taken, he arose, and together they hastened to Squirreltown.

When the grand old trees of the city appeared to view, Tiny shouted for
joy. There is nothing in life so dear as home and its associations,
and the country in which one lives, and the individuals with whom one
associates.

Although sentinels had been stationed at the entrances of the highways
to meet Tiny, he stole up a back street; for he wished to see his
mother first of all.

Mrs. Redsquirrel was preparing the last meal of the day. Although
somewhat older in appearance than when he left her, she seemed as
beautiful as ever to Tiny.

“Mother!” he cried, as he rushed into the house.

With shrieks of joy, the good creature bounded over the table and to
and fro until she was exhausted.

“Welcome! welcome home!” she cried, her little heart fairly bursting
with motherly love and joy.

They chatted until dusk began to steal over Squirreltown. At last they
were interrupted by Chatty Chipmunk.

“You are under arrest, Tiny,” he said, gravely. “I am bidden by the
mayor to take you to the park which faces the city hall.”

Tiny and his mother good-naturedly followed Chatty, thinking that
perhaps he was, as of old, playing some joke upon them.

“Be merciful to me, Tiny,” pleaded Chatty, on their way to the park.
“Remember that I am your oldest friend. I promise you that I will lead
a useful life in the future. My greatest regret now is that I trifled
all my time away when I was young.”

Tiny did not reply. They had entered the green park, facing which was a
decayed log with many doors and windows. It was used as a city hall.

[Illustration: WHAT WAS TINY’S SURPRISE TO FIND ALL THE CITIZENS OF
SQUIRRELTOWN GATHERED THERE TO MEET HIM!]

What was Tiny’s surprise to find all the citizens of Squirreltown
gathered there to meet him. There were the aged mayor at the door of
the city hall, the militia, the policemen, and all the aldermen and
other dignitaries of the city. Every one was dignified and silent. Tiny
and his mother were led by two policemen to the little balcony over the
entrance to the building. They were unable to speak, from surprise and
wonderment.

“Hoot! hoot! hoot!” rang out from a bough over their heads. This cry
was evidently another signal to enforce perfect order. Tiny gazed up
timidly, and saw the yellow eyes of the owl prophet staring down upon
him.

“Citizens of Squirreltown,” cried Mr. Owl, “I, the wisest of all living
creatures, take pleasure in presenting to you, Mr. Tiny Redsquirrel,
the new mayor of Squirreltown!”

Flapping his wings in approbation, he flew away, never to return again.

Then wild cheers rent the air. Never since that time has Squirreltown
been so riotous. Before Tiny could realize his exalted position, he was
surrounded by his old friends. There were Dr. Flyingsquirrel and his
family, Chatty Chipmunk and his mate, Peggy and Bushy Graysquirrel,
Polly Blacksquirrel, and many others, cheering and wishing him success
and happiness.

Hundreds of lightning bugs circled above their heads, throwing out
green and orange-colored rays. Billy Foxsquirrel and his band whistled
gay airs; a frog orchestra close by joined them; and a chorus of
friendly mosquitoes, and other insects, completed the grand refrain.
Until far into the night, laughter and rejoicing reigned triumphant.
What Tiny did for Squirreltown in after years is more than any boy or
girl could imagine.

       *       *       *       *       *

Transcriber’s Notes:

Illustrations have been moved to paragraph breaks near where they are
mentioned.

Punctuation has been made consistent.

Variations in spelling and hyphenation were retained as they appear in
the original publication, except that obvious typographical errors have
been corrected.

Captions were added for text included in illustrations as follows:

p. iv: COPYRIGHT, 1915, BY LAIRD & LEE, Inc.

p. 94: POETRY

p. 100: PANTRY







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