252 CROSS-CUT VIEWS OF WINTER. 



the path to the stone wall, where it has rooted for 

 worms and seeds, leaving marks like the trail of 

 a small snake. A troop of gray squirrels have 

 been scuffling under a walnut-tree, like young 

 human nutting-parties, for the largest and sound- 

 est fruit. They are the only rodents hereabouts 

 that keep good hours. As soon as it is dark under 

 the trees they all are carefully tucked up in their 

 warm nests, while the rabbits and mice have just 

 begun their travels. One of these branch vaulters 

 appeared comical enough as it sat in the open win- 

 dow in the third story of its shag-bark house. Its 

 nose and forepaws were resting on the sill, and its 

 round eyes were like jet-black buttons set in the 

 midst of fur. A male, perchance, that believed 

 might was right, and thought this tree good win- 

 ter quarters for a bachelor, had picked a quarrel 

 with the original owner, the High-hole, and the 

 tooth conquered the bill. 



What is the purpose of the long, bushy tails of 

 squirrels, if it is not that of steering themselves 

 while vaulting among the branches, or using them 

 a's kinds of parachutes to prevent the rapidity of 

 descent when they chance to miss their hold and 

 fall to the ground, thus imitating as well as they 

 can their relatives, the flying species ? One, as it 



