INSPIRED BY THE SNOW 319 



or win more recognition than a silent look of weary 

 discontent. Another cousin, the Chipmunk, no longer 

 displays his daintily-striped coat. Oblivious in his 

 burrow, he is sleeping away the days, and waiting for 

 a more congenial season. 



Among the branches of an Elm the black Squirrel 

 is twitching from one rigid attitude to another, 

 electrified by the crisp atmosphere and the inspiration 

 of the snow. Again he is leaping over the white 

 surface to clamber up the repellent bark of a tall 

 hickory. Among the larger limbs he disappears. 

 As he never attempts to hide he must have retired 

 into his own dwelling to partake of the store laid by in 

 the season of plenty. Hickory nuts are his favourite 

 food, and the hard shells seem but an appetising 

 relish. He knows the value of frugality, and gathers 

 them before they are ripe, throwing down the 

 shrivelled and unfilled, that the boys may not annoy 

 him with stones and sticks. In winter he is the 

 happiest of all the woodland family. He does not 

 yield to the drowsy, numbing influence of the cold, 

 nor to the depression of a season of scanty fare, but 

 bounds along from tree to tree, meeting the challenge 

 of the frost king with overflowing joy. 



