TINY 



days I cut the limb away. When Tiny found 

 a fresh stub instead of a limb, he understood 

 what it meant. He knew that I was the guilty 

 one, and he swore at me, if a squirrel can 

 swear, for twenty minutes. His next move 

 was to investigate the line where it was at- 

 tached to the trees. He thought he could 

 reach the box over the line, and started out. 

 When about a foot from the tree, the line 

 turned, and Tiny jumped to the ground. 

 He tried this three times, and met with failure. 

 The fourth time, when the line turned, he 

 clung to it and made his way to the box, hand 

 over hand. I thought he deserved a reward 

 for his continued effort and intelligence, so 

 since then I allow him to eat from the box 

 whenever he feels like it. 



Tiny made a cozy nest in November, of 

 moss, leaves, and grass. It was in the top 

 of a pine-tree that hangs over the cabin door- 

 yard. Some wretch shot this nest to pieces 

 when I was absent. I returned to find empty 

 shells in the dooryard, and fragments of the 

 nest hanging to the tree. Tiny made another 

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