h is supposed
to take care of his realm, and then I have plenty of time to be monarch,
and I like the work, so that makes me the 'monarch of the woods.'"

Something fell from the big basswood tree. It was a cherry pit which one
of the baby robins had "popped."

"Was that a nut which fell from the big basswood?" asked Gabriel
Chipmunk. But Jeremiah Yellowbird did not know, so Mister Chipmunk
hurried over to see, and when Gabriel Chipmunk saw all the nice cherry
pits scattered on the ground under the big basswood, he was very much
pleased, for Gabriel Chipmunk and all his folks liked cherry pits.

Mister Chipmunk filled his two big pockets with the nice cherry pits,
and ran for home as fast as his little legs would carry him.

Gabriel Chipmunk's pockets were in his cheeks, and when he had both
pockets full of cherry pits, his head looked larger than all the rest of
him. Billy Rabbit saw him running through the woods. "Who on earth is
that?" said Billy Rabbit to himself. "That big head is running around
without anybody! Help! Help!" and Billy Rabbit ran home and told Mrs.
Rabbit that he had just seen a terrible head running through the woods.

When Gabriel Chipmunk got home he dumped his two pocketsful of nice
cherry pits into his granary bins, and called Mrs. Chipmunk to come and
help him, and both of them worked as fast as they could and in a very
short time all the nice cherry pits from under Robert Robin's big
basswood tree were safe and snug in Mister Gabriel Chipmunk's granary
under his old home stump.

Both of them were so tired that they went to bed and slept until the
next morning.

Towards night Mister Robert Robin perched on the top of his big basswood
and sang his "Cherry Song," and while he was singing he heard some one
coming through the woods. It was the farmer's hired man. He was going to
get some of the cherry pits to plant in a box.

He scuffed his feet among the leaves, and looked, and looked, but he
could not find even just one cherry pit.

"Where did all those cherry pits go?" he asked himself. "There was
forty-'leven hundred of 'em here this forenoon, and now they are as
scarce as hen's teeth! Some bird must have picked up every last one of
them! I wouldn't have cared, only I was so sure about their bein' cherry
pits, and the farmer hates to get beat in an argument--but now I'll
never hear the last of fryin' them mittens."

The hired man climbed over the fence and stood still. He was listen