ree where he could not be seen from below, until the
boys forgot all about him.

When the picnickers went away, Frisky lost no time. He slipped down
the tree in a hurry. You see, he had seen the children eating their
lunch and he hoped he would be able to find some tidbit which they had
left behind them.

Sure enough! there was a feast waiting for him. He was not the only
one who was there to enjoy it. For there were three ruffianly red
squirrels and a half-dozen chipmunks who appeared on the spot as if by
magic.

This second picnic soon came to an end, for the dainties did not last
long. But what Frisky found, he enjoyed very much. Most of all he
liked a bit of something that was covered with a white coating, which
looked a good deal like snow. But it did not taste like snow at all;
it was as sweet as sweet could be!

Rusty Red-squirrel found a piece of the same dainty, and he explained
to Frisky that it was called "cake."

"I ate some once at Farmer Green's house," he said. "Farmer Green's
wife makes it." And Frisky decided on the spot that he would pay a
visit to the farmhouse. It was too late to go that day. But the next
morning Frisky set out for Farmer Green's house.

In the distance he could see white smoke curling from the red chimney.
And though he did not know it, that meant that it was baking-day, and
Farmer Green's wife was just as busy as she could be, making good
things for her hungry family.

When Frisky Squirrel reached the farmhouse he found the kitchen window
wide open. And after making sure that there was no one inside the
room, he stole in and jumped up on a shelf where there was a row of
dishes with all sorts of tempting things on them.

To Frisky's joy, he found a whole cake exactly like the bit he had
discovered in the woods. And he ate all he wanted; there seemed to be
no reason why he shouldn't, there was so much of it.

And then a door slammed somewhere. The noise startled Frisky Squirrel
and he fell right off the shelf, backwards, and landed plump in the
flour-barrel.

He was nearly smothered. And he was frightened, too. But he managed to
scramble out again. And you should have seen the white streak that
went shooting across the kitchen floor, out the door, and away. It was
Frisky Squirrel, of course, covered with flour. He never stopped
running until he was half-way home. And then he climbed a tree and sat
down to lick himself clean again. To his astonishment, he found that
the