234 FROM MY WINDOW. 



say, "Be still, my heart," while they looked the 

 country over to see if any lurking member of 

 the human family were about. The red squir- 

 rels were the most amusing, for they were very 

 frolicsome, indulging in mad chases over and 

 under the fence, through the trees, around the 

 trunks, so rapidly that they resembled a red 

 streak more than little beasts. 



One squirrel adopted the fence as his regular 

 highway, and the high post of the farm gate as 

 his watch-tower. He often sunned himself, lying 

 on his face, with his legs and his tail spread out 

 as flat as if he had been smashed. His presence 

 scared the birds from the neighborhood, and I 

 undertook to discourage him. I went out one 

 day when I saw him near the fence. The squir- 

 rel made up his mind to pass over the gate and 

 get into the locust, but I posted myself quite 

 near, and he did not like to pass me. Giving 

 up his plan is no part of a squirrel's intention, 

 however, and every moment he would scramble 

 up a few feet one side of me, with the design of 

 running past me. As soon as his sharp black 

 eyes showed above the top board I cried *' Shoo ! " 

 He understood my motion, and doubtless would 

 if I had said "Scat!" or "Get out!" (What 

 should one say to a squirrel?) 



He dashed behind his barricade and disap- 

 peared. But he did not "stay put;" in two 



