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Tale of Frisky Squirrel

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<h2>IV</h2><h3>The Picnic</h3></div> <p>It was a fine spring day—so pleasant that the children from the little red schoolhouse over the hill came to the woods where Frisky Squirrel lived. They came for the first picnic of the season, and such a noise as they made had never been heard in those woods before.</p> <p>Frisky Squirrel was frightened at first. But at last he grew accustomed to the uproar, and he crept out on the limb where he lived—not too far away from the door—and looked down and watched the fun.</p> <p>He was enjoying the picnic quite as much as the merry-makers themselves—until<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name='Page_23' id='Page_23'>[Pg 23]</SPAN></span> a boy spied him. And then several boys began to throw acorns at him. Frisky did not like that so well; and he hid in a crotch of the tree where he could not be seen from below, until the boys forgot all about him.</p> <p>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.</p> <p>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.</p> <p>This second picnic soon came to an end, for the dainties did not last long. But what Frisky found, he enjoyed very much.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name='Page_24' id='Page_24'>[Pg 24]</SPAN></span> 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!</p> <p>Rusty Red-squirrel found a piece of the same dainty, and he explained to Frisky that it was called “cake.”</p> <p>“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.</p> <p>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.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name='Page_25' id='Page_25'>[Pg 25]</SPAN></span></p> <p>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.</p> <p>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.</p> <p>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.</p> <p>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<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name='Page_26' id='Page_26'>[Pg 26]</SPAN></span> 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 white powder that covered him tasted very good. It reminded him of wheat. And that is not surprising, since the flour was made of wheat which Farmer Green had grown in his own fields, and which had been ground into flour by the miller who lived further up Swift River.</p> <p>Though the flour tasted good, Frisky did not like it as well as the cake. He wished he had been covered with that sweet, snowlike frosting.</p> <div class='figcenter' style='width: 300px; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> <SPAN name='illus-009' id='illus-009'></SPAN> <ANTIMG src='images/illus-017.png' alt='300' title='' /><br/></div> <hr class='major' /> <div class='figcenter' style='width: 300px; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> <SPAN name='illus-010' id='illus-010'></SPAN> <ANTIMG src='images/illus-019.png' alt='300' title='' /><br/> <span class='caption'>“The Picnic”</span></div> <hr class='major' /> <div class='figcenter' style='width: 300px; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> <SPAN name='illus-011' id='illus-011'></SPAN> <ANTIMG src='images/illus-021.png' alt='300' title='' /><br/></div> <div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> <SPAN name='V' id='V'></SPAN> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name='Page_27' id='Page_27'>[Pg 27]</SPAN></span> <div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />

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