Madam B. may have been chronically 

 nervous; indeed I could not doubt the 

 fact when I noted the scraggy appear- 

 ance of her once luxuriant tail, which 

 looked as if it might have served lately 

 as a teething appliance for the babies. 

 I presume, too, that Muggins was in- 

 judicious in his remarks as he stretched 

 his forelegs along the trunk and pre- 

 pared to ascend; but whatever her prov- 

 ocation, Mrs. Bushytail, clutching un- 

 gracefully but determinedly at a slender 

 limb, sent forth such a startling volley 

 of shrill abuse that Muggins paused, 

 dazed and horrified, and when I joined 

 forces from the back porch, waving my 

 dish towel and crying "Scat!'' he with- 

 drew in dignified disgust, his expres- 

 sion saying plainly that two such vitu- 

 perative females in one community was 

 a disgrace to the nation. 



Muggins was not the only dispoiler 

 of the neighborhood's peace. Patsy, 

 the Hope Hose Company's mascot, fre- 

 quently came darting through the alley 

 from the engine house, his black nose 

 and mottled sides eloquent of sporting 

 proclivities inherited from a Scotch-Irish 

 ancestry. I sometimes witnessed the 

 battles of intrigue which followed, for' I 

 believe the hostilities never went so far 

 as actual combat. The head of the 

 Bushytail family seemed to consider 

 Patsy a foeman worthy of his steel and 

 rather to enjoy their encounters than 

 otherwise. Instead of ignoring the in- 

 truder utterly, as was his treatment of 

 Muggins, and permitting his consort 

 to rout the enemy in her own strictly 

 feminine way, the husband and father 

 immediately became alert when one 

 sharp, challenging bark announced the 

 dog's arrival upon the scene. Then, 

 quite regardless of his wife's entreaties, 

 Mr. Bushytail would deliberately des- 

 cend, making exasperating feints mean- 

 while as if a sudden sickness had seized 

 him and he was about to drop into that 

 eager, open mouth below, and having 

 settled himself comfortably uoon a 

 forked limb tantalizingly close to Pat- 

 sy's vision would proceed to argue the 

 case. Patsy could not have been a 

 good logician, for ''Brer Squirrel" al- 

 ways came out ahead, even though 

 Patsy might thrash his tail about in 



frenzy and dance on his hind feet, bark- 

 ing in hoarse desperation, till the voice 

 of "Hoofie," the driver, recalled him lo 

 his post of duty. 



The young Bushytails partook of their 

 parents' intrepid qualities and at an 

 early age began to scamper — sleek, 

 glossy brown bits — about the adjacent 

 roofs and trees. I can well believe that 

 they were instructed by their cautious 

 mother never to alight upon the 

 ground, but one of them must have 

 disobeyed, for a boy just over the sweet 

 pea border found it gaily exploring his 

 rabbit pen, and easily caught it in his 

 hand. The little creature, liking the 

 boy's warm clasp, declined at first to be 

 freed, and came back, with a confiding 

 flirt of its big round tail, to nestle 

 against the lad's coat till replaced in its 

 paternal tree. 



It was not always mere curiosity that 

 led the baby rodents to go a-visiting. 

 They had a fondness for the hard, red 

 apples which the gnarled old tree 

 throws lavishly every summer onto my 

 side of the low stone wall near which 

 it stands. On its own side the apples 

 all fall upon the ground, where Mug- 

 gins or Patsy may stray at any moment ; 

 but did not a kindly Providence ex- 

 pressly provide our grape harbor as a 

 banquet table for hungry but inexperi- 

 enced little wood folk? Here blaster 

 Bushytail — which particular one I never 

 knew at any time — would sit, serenely 

 furling his splendid canopy over his 

 back, and holding an apple twice as 

 large as his head, would roll it dexter- 

 ously round and round in his paws, par- 

 ing ofif the red skin with his sharp little 

 incisors before he began eating the 

 pulp. When his appetite was satisfied 

 he would tuck the apple away into a 

 safe nook and next day would come 

 back and nibble at it again. 



Something besides present joys had 

 to be thought of, however, as the fall 

 days crept on, and the elder Bushytails 

 at least were fully alive to their respon- 

 sibilities. However early I might look 

 from my bedroom window, they were 

 sure to be up before me, scampering 

 back and forth in the sunshine or flirt- 

 ing the rain drops from their fur as the 

 case might be, but always busy at work; 



221 



