OUR MOUNTAIN GARDEN 



they would take the birds' eggs. Accord- 

 ingly we bought a trap and squirrel 

 martyrs to the number of three found 

 their way into it, and subsequently into 

 a watery death. But this sort of thing 

 was not to our taste, for, sooth to say, 

 we liked to see the squirrels in our 

 trees quite as well as the birds, and did 

 not at all enjoy being their executioners. 

 So we concluded to let nature take care 

 of its own in the matter, and thereafter, 

 instead of killing our saucy little red 

 tenants, I put a comfortable hollow log 

 up in a tree near my window, well stuffed 

 with cotton wool. Below, on the tree, 

 I fastened one of those shelf-like fungi 

 which grow on rotting stumps, to serve 

 as a dinner table, and here every morn- 

 ing and evening I laid a handful of corn 

 and a few nuts. 



34 



