THE REPOSE OF NATURE. 203 



selves by rushing at him suddenly, and seeing him go 

 leaping over the ground with his brush trailing behind 

 him, and his body looking double its real length ; 

 watch him jump at the trunk of a tree, slip round the 

 stem, scud up the branches, and then sit coolly on the 

 topmost bough, and look down at us with benignant 

 disdain. 



Our little friend has gone to sleep for the winter, 

 and if you know where to find his c cage,' you may 

 catch him asleep without much difficulty. Be it re- 

 membered that he has two homes, a summer and a 

 winter house ; the former being lodged in the fork of 

 some lofty branch, often near the end of a slight bough, 

 and very conspicuous from below, and the latter warmly 

 established close to the trunk of a goodly tree, sheltered 

 from chilling winds by the large limbs against which it 

 is placed,' and defended from rain and storm by the 

 well-thatched roof and warm lining. 



Snugly coiled in this warm recess the squirrel passes 

 his winter, spending very many consecutive hours in 

 that strange sleep which is called hibernation ; awaking 

 at intervals, when a gleam of warmer sunshine than 

 usual rests upon his cage, running to his hidden trea- 

 sury, taking a little refreshment, and then returning to 

 his house to fall asleep again. He has an excellent 

 memory, this little squirrel, and his faculties are not at 

 all beclouded by the long hours of sleep ; for as soon as 

 he wakes he comes quietly out of his warm cottage, 

 scrambles down the tree, runs to one of the spots 



