ranch, and see it sway or spring as the squirrel leaps from or to it;
or else you hear a disturbance in the dry leaves, and mark one running
upon the ground. He has probably seen the intruder, and, not liking his
stealthy movements, desires to avoid a nearer acquaintance. Now he
mounts a stump to see if the way is clear, then pauses a moment at the
foot of a tree to take his bearings, his tail as he skims along
undulating behind him, and adding to the easy grace and dignity of his
movements. Or else you are first advised of his proximity by the
dropping of a false nut, or the fragments of the shucks rattling upon
the leaves. Or, again, after contemplating you a while unobserved, and
making up his mind that you are not dangerous, he strikes an attitude on
a branch, and commences to quack and bark, with an accompanying movement
of his tail. Late in the afternoon, when the same stillness reigns, the
same scenes are repeated. There is a black variety, quite rare, but
mating freely with the gray, from which it seems to be distinguished
only in color.

[Illustration: GRAY SQUIRREL]

The red squirrel is more common and less dignified than the gray, and
oftener guilty of petty larceny about the barns and grain-fields. He is
most abundant in mixed oak, chestnut, and hemlock woods, from which he
makes excursions to the fields and orchards, spinning along the tops of
the fences, which afford not only convenient lines of communication, but
a safe retreat if danger threatens. He loves to linger about the
orchard; and, sitting upright on the topmost stone in the wall, or on
the tallest stake in the fence, chipping up an apple for the seeds, his
tail conforming to the curve of his back, his paws shifting and turning
the apple, he is a pretty sight, and his bright, pert appearance atones
for all the mischief he does. At home, in the woods, he is very
frolicsome and loquacious. The appearance of anything unusual, if after
contemplating it a moment, he concludes it not dangerous, excites his
unbounded mirth and ridicule, and he snickers and chatters, hardly able
to contain himself; now darting up the trunk of a tree and squealing in
derision, then hopping into position on a limb and dancing to the music
of his own cackle, and all for your special benefit.

There is something very human in this apparent mirth and mockery of the
squirrels. It seems to be a sort of ironical laughter, and implies
self-conscious pride and exultation in th