



CHAPTER XII 



AN ACCOUNT WITH NATURE 



THERE were chipmunks everywhere. The stone 

 walls squeaked with them. At every turn, 

 from early spring to early autumn, a chip- 

 munk was scurrying away from me. Chipmunks 

 were common. They did no particular harm, no par- 

 ticular good ; they did nothing in particular, being 

 only chipmunks and common, or so I thought, until 

 one morning (it was June-bug time) when I stopped 

 and watched a chipmunk that sat atop the stone wall 

 down in the orchard. He was eating, and the shells 

 of his meal lay in a little pile upon the big flat stone 

 which served as his table. 



They were acorn-shells, I thought; yet June 

 seemed rather late in the season for acorns, and, 

 looking closer, I discovered that the pile was entirely 

 composed of June-bug shells wings and hollow 

 bodies of the pestiferous beetles ! 



Well, well! I had never seen this before, never 

 even heard of it. Chipmunk, a useful member of 

 society! actually eating bugs in this bug-ridden world 

 of mine! This was interesting and important. Why, 

 I had really never known Chipmunk, after all ! 



So I had n't. He had always been too common. 



