gardens. Where there are many pine 

 cones it makes its permanent home, 

 building one or more, usually in old 

 nests of crows which it improves. If 

 it does not intend to remain long it 

 uses the nests of magpies, crows, or 

 birds of prey, but the nest which it in- 

 tends to serve as a permanent sleeping- 

 place, a shelter against bad weather, or 

 a nursery, is newly built. It is said 

 that every squirrel has at least four 

 nests; but nothing has been definitely 

 proven on this score. Brehm says they 

 also build in hollow trees; that the open- 

 air nests usually lie in a fork close to 

 the main trunk of the tree; the bottom 

 is built like one of the larger bird nests 

 while above there is a flat, conical 

 roof after the manner of magpies' nests, 

 close enough to be impenetrable to the 

 rain. The main entrance is placed side- 

 ways, usually facing the east; a slightly 

 smaller loop-hole for escape from its 

 many enemies is found close to the 

 trunk. 



According to the season it eats fruit 

 or seeds, buds, twigs, shells, berries, 

 grain and mushrooms. The seeds, 

 buds and young shoots of fir and 

 pine trees probably form its principal 

 food. 



As soon as the animal is provided with 

 food in abundance it lays by stores for 

 later and less plenteous times, carrying 

 to its storerooms nuts, grains and ker- 

 nels, sometimes from a great distance. 

 In the forests of southeastern Siberia 

 the squirrels also store away mush- 

 rooms, and that in a very peculiar 

 manner. 



"They are so unselfish," says Radde, 

 "that they do not think of hiding their 

 supply of mushrooms, but pin them on 

 the pine needles or in larch woods on 

 the small twigs. There they leave the 

 mushrooms to dry, and in times of 

 . scarcity of food these stores are of good 

 service to some roaming individual of 

 their kind." 



THE ROBIN'S MISTAKE. 



I.. WHITNEY WATKINS. 



The scene was the bank of a crj'stal brook 



Where a saucy young robin had paused to look. 



As the morning sun had gilded the waves 



Which sparkled and sang thro' the autumn days. 



He glanced at the leaves, that had copied his breast, 



The leaves that in springtime had shielded his nest; 



Then turning his head with a bird like grace. 



He searched in the stream for his mirrored face. 



Not his mottled coat of rusty brown 



He saw in the brook-bed sloping down. 



But a touch of gra}' with an amber dab — 



The reflected form of a brooklet crab. 



He gazed in surprise at the specter-like thing. 



Then chirping aloud and raising each wing. 



In terror he turned from the ghost-haunted place 



And met on the bank the real crab face to face. 



Young Robins, like "others," are inclined to be "gay," 



And our hero's misfortune occurred m this way: 



He considered a moment; his foe seemed quite weak. 



And he ventured a peck with his slim, shiny beak. 



A flutter, a scream — up the bank Robin came; 



He found two could play at the same little game. 



And the waves as they fled, with a smile and a gleam. 



Carried crab and brown feathers adown with the stream. 



