VI 



THE DISCONTENTED SQUIRREL 



HURRYING along the street the other day, intent 

 on business, I was brought to a sudden full stop 

 by the sight of a heap of old books in tattered 

 covers outside a second-hand furniture shop. I 

 didn't want old books, and had no time to spare; 

 the action was purely automatic, like that of the 

 old horse ridden or driven by a traveller who often 

 refreshes himself, in stopping short on coming to a 

 public-house on the roadside. On the top of the 

 heap was a small pamphlet or booklet in blue 

 covers, entitled The Discontented Squirrel, and this 

 attracted my attention. It seemed to touch a 

 chord, but a chord of what I did not know. I 

 picked it up, and, opening it, saw on the first page 

 an ancient rude woodcut of a squirrel eating a nut. 



The old picture looked familiar, but I was still 

 at a loss until I read the first few lines of the letter- 

 press, and then I immediately dropped the booklet 

 and hastened on faster than ever, to make up for a 

 wasted minute. 



Why, of course, the Discontented Squirrel, that 

 dear little ancient beastie! The whole of the 



