The Story of a Graysquirrel 



last with a "'Rah, 'rah, 'rah!" and the 

 Woodwale beat a long tattoo. 



"Hip, hip, hip, hurrah, hurrah, hur- 

 rah!" shouted Bannertail as the all- 

 blessed glory rose clear above the eastern 

 trees and the world was aflood with the 

 Sun-God's golden smile. 



A score of times had he thus sung and 

 whip-lashed his" tail, and sung again, ex- 

 ulting, when far away, among the noises 

 made by birds, was a low "Qua, quaaa !" 

 — the voice of another Graysquirrel ! 



His kind was all too scarce in Jersey- 

 land, and yet another would not neces- 

 sarily be a friend; but in the delicate 

 meaningful modulations of sound so accu- 

 rately sensed by the Squirrel's keen ear, 

 this far-off "Qua, qua," was a little softer 

 than his own, a little higher-pitched, a 

 little more gently modulated, and Ban- 

 nertail knew without a moment's guess- 

 ing. "Yes, it was a Graysquirrel, and it 



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