UNDER THE APPLE-TREES 
a tiny bubble on the vast current of animate nature, 
whose beginning is beyond our ken in the dim past, 
and whose ending is equally beyond our ken in the 
dim future. He goes his pretty ways, gathers his 
precarious harvest, has his adventures, his hair- 
breadth escapes, his summer activity, his autumn 
plenty, his winter solitude and gloom, and his spring 
awakening and gladness. He has made himself a 
home here in the old orchard; he knows how deep to 
go into the ground to get beyond the frost-line; he is 
a pensioner upon the great bounty upon which we 
all draw, and probably lives up to the standard of 
the chipmunk life more nearly than most of us live 
up to the best standards of human life. May he so 
continue to live, and may we yet meet for many 
summers under the apple-boughs. 
Part II 
When the spring came I was seized with a curios- 
ity to know how much of his stores my little friend 
had disposed of, and which of his various assortment 
of nuts and grain had proved his favorites. To set- 
tle these points there was only one course to pursue: 
we must dig him out. So one April day we pro- 
ceeded to do so. We at once discovered a new hole 
or entrance, only a few inches from the other, and 
apparently more in use than it was. We found his 
chamber about three feet below the surface with 
its usual nest of dry leaves and grass, and a few 
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