BOOK OF NATURAL HISTORY. g 
THE SQUIRREL. 
N ear the corner of my house 
stands a fine filbert-tree, which 
bears nearly every year a large 
number of nuts. One day in 
September, when my nuts were 
ripe, I happened to look out of 
the window, and saw in my 
tree a squirrel busily employed 
in gathering and eating the 
filberts. When I thought he 
had had enough, I opened the 
window and clapped my hands, 
upon which the squirrel skipped 
away, ran along the ground 
across my garden, and darting 
