SUMMER WOODS. 97 
And look askance with bright black eyes, 
And flirt their dripping wings. 
I’ve seen the freakish squirrels drop 
Down from their leafy tree, 
The little squirrels with the old,— ||) 
Great joy it was to me! \\ 
And down unto the running brook, 
I’ve seen them nimbly go; 
And the bright water seemed to speak 
A welcome kind and low. 
K 
