The mountain did not fall upon him, only 

 half a loaf of bread. But half a loaf of bread, if 

 it falls just right, may hurt, as every one knows 

 who has dropped even a slice of bread on his 

 toes— butter side down. 



Descending the mountain by way of the car- 

 riage-road, we stopped at a little stone bridge 

 to eat our lunch, when this squirrel came forth 

 and ordered us on. He immediately smelled 

 the lunch, however, and grew silent, creeping 

 up within arm's-reach of us, watching how we 

 ate. He showed no sign of timidity, only curi- 

 osity, then wonder, then deep, delighted sniff- 

 ings. The smells of molasses cookies and Summit 

 House rolls were new savors, new and gnawing. 

 They made him hungry, so madly hungry that, 

 when I turned and threw the lunch-box into 

 the &XJ bed of the stream, he was into it almost 

 as soon as it landed. 



His first bite was of bread and butter. With- 

 out pausing to chew it, he seized the slice, scurried 

 off down a log, and disappeared in the forest. 

 "Where is he taking it?" we asked. Not far 

 away, for suddenly he popped over a rock, gave 

 us a quick glance, and jumped into the box again. 

 [238] 



