138 BEYOND THE PASTURE BARS 



Both of their parents were dead. Their loose 

 leaf-nest up in the white oak tree had been rid- 

 dled with shot. I had climbed up and found 

 them; I had brought them down; I must feed 

 them ! 



But how could I feed them? Nipples, quills, 

 spoons none of them would fit these mites of 

 mouths. What a miserable mother I was ! How 

 poorly equipped my woodshed for foundlings! 

 They were dying for lack of food; and as they 

 pawed about and whimpered in my hands I de- 

 voutly wished the shot had mercifully ended their 

 little lives too. And I must say that I was 

 tempted to put them out of their misery at once. 



But I started homeward with them. As I could 

 see no other way I determined to rear those squir- 

 rels, if it could be done. As I went along I re- 

 membered and it came to me with a shock that 

 one of my neighbor's cats had a new batch of kit- 

 tens. They were only a few days old. Might not 

 Calico, their mother, be induced to adopt the 

 squirrels ? 



Nothing could be more absurd. The kittens 

 were three times larger than the squirrels. Even 

 had they been the same size, did I think the old 

 three-colored cat could be fooled? that she might 



