their sharp little paws.

A flying squirrel is indeed a beautiful creature. Its colour is a most
delicate grey; the fur thick and short, and as soft as velvet; the eyes
large and full. The membrane by which it is enabled to take its flights
is of a soft texture, and white, like the fur of the chinchilla. The
tail greatly resembles an elegantly-formed broad feather.

One day, as I was wandering along the banks of a stream, for the purpose
of observing the habits of a family of beavers that had lately made
their abode there, I caught sight of a number of squirrels. They were
evidently about some important operation, since they were moving
steadily along the branches, and refraining from their usual frisking
and playing. Having concealed myself from their view, in order that
they might not be disturbed by my presence, I noticed that they went on
until they reached the branch of a tree overhanging the stream, at the
extreme end of which one, who appeared to be their leader, took post,
looking eagerly up the current. In a short time a small log floated
near, with a tendency to move over to the opposite side. As it came
beneath the leader of the party he dropped down upon it, at the same
time uttering a sharp cry. Quick as lightning some others followed his
example; and by holding on to the lower twigs they arrested its progress
until the whole party were seated on board, when the log was allowed to
float, as they sagaciously knew it would, towards the opposite bank. It
seemed to me as if some of them were steering it with their tails; but
of that I am not positive. In a short time, after floating some way
down the stream it was guided to the shore; when one after the other
leaped off, and quickly running along the boughs of the trees, gained a
point exactly opposite to that from which they had started; after which
they went away into the forest,--bent, I doubted not, on some predatory
expedition. They would soon make their presence known, when they
reached the pumpkin-grounds or maize-fields of the settlers.

I was not always alone in my rambles through the forest. Lily would
have been only too happy to accompany me, but Aunt Hannah judged it
prudent to keep her at home; and, indeed, she had plenty of occupation
there. My chief companion, therefore, was one of Uncle Stephen's
labourers--an Irishman, Mike Laffan by name.

Although Mike had no great knowledge of natural history, he was as fond
of searching for