26 DAN BEARD'S ANIMAL BOOK 



and when I gazed into the soft big eyes of the 

 little animal, all the annoyance and anger in my 

 heart melted away. The chair tilted as I at- 

 tempted to descend, and I came down with a 

 crash, smashing a mirror, spraining my wrist and 

 barking both shins, but I left Fanny Flying Squir- 

 rel in undisturbed possession of her claim. 



That was the greatest mistake I made about my 

 log house. The flying squirrels have multiplied 

 and increased, and continued to increase in num- 

 ber, in spite of the fact that each year I capture 

 as many as I can and send them away to friends 

 in different parts of the country for pets. Flying 

 squirrels make most beautiful pets, but they are 

 worse in a house than the so-called Norway brown 

 rats. Rats can't fly. 



One season, in company with a friend, I fished 

 the brooks on the way to Wild Lands. My friend 

 said he would clean the fish if I would be cook. 

 The house had been closed all winter and after 

 opening the doors and windows I split some wood 

 and built a fire and then ran outside to breathe, for 

 the smoke filled the room. My friend said that 

 the chimney was cold. He said as soon as it got 

 wa.rm the smoke would go up. In the meantime 

 the smoke refused to go up, but filled the kitchen, 

 and when that was full, streamed out of the win- 

 dows and doors. But never a whiff went out of 

 the chimney. My eyes and throat smarted, my 

 lungs were raw, tears bedewed my cheeks. I was 

 covered with ashes, and my face was blackened; 



