INSPIRED BY THE SNOW 
219 
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* 
