96 LITTLE SKIPl'Y 



run all over her table among her letters and 

 papers, hunting for you know what. When 

 rewarded for his search, he would jump into 

 her lap and eat the nut which he had found. 



Skippy was a wild little chap the first time 

 we saw him. Born in the hig, lonesome woods, 

 he naturally was afraid of us. Upon discov- 

 ering that his home was underneath our cottage, 

 each morning we would throw out a handful 

 of nuts, calling "Skippy, Skippy, Skippy," in 

 just the same way, then from within doors we 

 would watch our busy little neighbor carry his 

 treasures to his winter storehouse. 



Very soon Skippy would come while we stayed 

 quite near. In a few days more we placed hi.s 

 tempting breakfast on the door step, then inside 

 the door, gradually leading him into the dif- 

 ferent rooms until he felt at home everywhere 

 and knew that we were his friends. 



Before long he ate from our hands without 

 fear, and came at our call as readily as would 

 a pet cat or dog. 



Only one summer, and for a few weeks, Fran- 

 ces Willard and her squirrel friend played to- 

 gether, but I am sure that as long as he lived, 

 little Skippy watched for her to come again 

 with the summer sunshine and the flowers. 



