Frisk seemed to think that John, our old horse, was his best friend.

Every day he ate grain from John's manger. Sister Fanny used to watch him. One day she said, "I think Frisk knows when it is time for John to be fed. Just as soon as you put his feed into the manger, Frisk comes to eat too. I think old John likes to have the little fellow eat with him."

One time when sister Fanny and I went to the barn, we found Frisk sitting on John's back, as if he were waiting for a ride. As soon as the squirrel saw us, he jumped and ran away.

Soon after this we missed Frisk from the barn. We never knew what became of him.

Perhaps some dog or cat caught him. We do not think a little boy or girl would hurt a squirrel.

Do I look like the little squirrel whose home is in the trees?

I am a very interesting little creature. My color is brownish gray.

Some people call me the striped squirrel. That is because there are five black stripes and two pale yellow ones on my back and sides. These stripes extend from my neck to my tail. My neck and breast are white.

Surely I cannot be taken for any other animal. Don't

Don't you think you would know

me if you should meet me?

Other people call me the chipping squirrel, or chipmunk. My chipping cry, which is like the chirping of a young chicken, gives me that name.

But I am a little squirrel, burrowing in the ground.

I have a long, bushy tail, which curves over my back.

My teeth are like my cousin's teeth. The nails on my toes are made to dig the ground, and not to climb trees.

My cousin has no pockets or pouches in his cheeks in which to store his food.

He cannot carry so much food at once to his storehouse as I can. I can carry three or four hickory nuts at once.

When the nuts and seeds are ripe, I go out every day and fill my pockets, which are back of my teeth. I crowd seeds and nuts into these pockets, using my forepaws to pack them tight. Then I run home and empty my pockets in my little storehouse.

To do this, I put my forepaws behind

the pouches and push the load out. Then I pack this food away.

I wish you could visit me in my little house. To get there, one must go into a hall through a door under the roots of a tree. This hall leads into a very cosy This is my parlor. It is carpeted and lined with dry leaves, which make it

room.

very warm.

There is a door opening from

my parlor into the storeroom. In the storeroom is a shelf on which my winter food is packed.

I think I shall have enough food for winter use if I put a quart of seed, two quarts of buckwheat, nearly a peck of

acorns, and a quart of nuts into my store

5. IN A STRIPED ULSTER.

Farmer Penn meant to have his wheat all cut by night, but the reapers he had hired did not come.

But one harvester, a small, spry fellow, was hard at work. He enjoyed his work and was not lonesome. He was not working for wages, nor reaping on shares, but all he gathered he took away for himself.

He wore a striped ulster, yet he did not seem too warm. He did not take it off and hang it on the fence, as the reapers would have taken off their coats.

Every now and then he sat down, folded his hands, and gave a loud Whi-r-r! which was his way of laughing at the thought