CHAPTER XXVI. 



THE SQUIRREL. 



From bough to bough the scampering squirrels bound, 

 But soon in smoky thunders bite the ground ; 

 Life's gushing streams their sable furs defile." 



E hardly think it will be expected of us 

 to include the subject of squirrel-shoot- 

 ing in this volume ; however, as we know 

 something about the matter, (perhaps 

 nothing new,) picked up during our early 

 school-days in a great squirrel-country, 

 it may not be amiss in us to devote a few 

 pages to these interesting little creatures, 

 that enliven the solitude of our deep 

 forests with their frolicsome gambols. 

 Our friend Porter, in his reprint of Hawker, by-the-by a most 



excellent woik in itself, and made still more so by the valuable 

 350 



