nail. The biter was bitten that
time, wasn't he? It was a pretty good lesson to the hawk family not to
be so greedy, though whether they ever profited by it is more than I can
say. From the account that a little girl gave me of the incursions
recently made upon her chickens, I judge that they did not all profit by
it.

[Illustration: CHAPTER END DECORATION]

The Squirrel.

I had a pretty little red squirrel of my own, when I was a little boy.
My father bought a cage for him, with a wheel in it; and Billy, as we
used to call him, would get inside the wheel, and whirl it around for a
half hour at a time. It was amusing, too, to see him stand up on his
hind feet, and eat the nuts we gave him. Billy was a great favorite with
me and my brother. By and by, we let him go out of the cage, and ramble
wherever he pleased. He became as tame as a kitten. He would go out into
the corn-field in autumn, and come home with his mouth filled with corn,
and this he would lay up in a safe place for further use. Once the old
cat caught him, and the poor fellow would have been killed, if some one
had not been near and rescued him from the grasp of his enemy.

We indulged Billy a good deal. We had a box of hickory nuts in the
garret, and he was allowed to go and help himself whenever he pleased.
He was pleased to go pretty often, too; and he was not satisfied with
eating what he wanted out of the box. The greedy fellow! One day he
carried off nearly all the nuts there were in the box, and hid them away
under the floor, through a hole he had gnawed in the boards.

He was a great pet though, for all that. We could not help loving him,
mischievous as he was. He used to climb up often on my shoulder, and
down into my pockets; and if there was any thing good to eat thereabout,
he would help himself without ceremony. Sometimes, when he felt
particularly frolicksome, he leaped from one person's shoulder to
another, all around the room.

The more we petted this little fellow, and the more good things we gave
him, the more roguish he became. At length he exhausted all my father's
patience by his mischief. One of his last tricks was this. He gnawed a
hole in a bag of meal, and after eating as much as he could (and this
was but little, for we fed him as often as he needed to eat, and
oftener too) he carried away large quantities of the meal, and wasted
it. He never worked harder in his life, not even when he was trying to
get away from t