She was quiet longer this time, for she began to think how hard it was to be good. Then she remembered how the sparrow had flown away--away off alone up into the bright blue air, and could sing as loud as he chose, and tilt on the highest boughs of the trees, and n.o.body call him rude.

And the sparrow didn't have to be washed and dressed in the morning, and to eat his breakfast at just such a time, and be careful to take his fork in his right hand, and not to spill his milk.

O, how much better breakfasts the sparrow had! First, a drink of dew from the leaves about his nest; then, a sweet-brier blossom to give him an appet.i.te; and then, wild raspberries and strawberries, as many as he wanted; and, afterwards, wild honey to sweeten his tongue, or smooth gum from the cherry-tree to clear his throat before the morning song!

Then for a merry chase through the woods, instead of going to school.

"O, dear! O, dear!" said Minnie, "why wasn't I made a sparrow?"

Just then she heard a chattering in the pine-tree over her head, and a squirrel tripped in sight. Minnie happened to have some nuts in her pocket, so she quietly rolled one along the top of the fence, and squirrel came down for it.

I think wild creatures know which children are their friends, and which their enemies. At all events, this squirrel did not feel afraid of Minnie, but sat there nibbling at the nut she gave him, until he had eaten out all the meat.

Just then her mother came to the door with some ladies, who had been making her a call, and off darted squirrel, quicker than you can think.

"Now, where has he gone?" thought Minnie; "down under the cool gra.s.s, I suppose, or far off into the pleasant woods, where he can have all the nuts he wants, and play hide-and-go-seek among the boughs. O, dear! I wish I had been a squirrel! I wonder if I couldn't run along the fence as quickly as he did just now!"

Her mother was talking so busily with her friends that she forgot to watch Minnie, and off the little girl flew, along the rail, skipping and dancing, and twirling upon one foot.

And now comes the wonderful part of my story. Minnie thought she heard somebody scream, and then she looked round, and her mother was gone, and she was seated on the door-step all alone again, and squirrel, on the fence beside her, was eating his nut.

"Come, give us another!" he said, at last, throwing away the sh.e.l.l, and speaking with the queerest little squeaky, grumbling voice.

"Why, who taught you how to talk?" asked Minnie, in surprise.

"O, n.o.body. Squirrels don't go to school. They couldn't keep us quiet on the benches, you see. It makes us ache to sit still!" and he ran round and round the rail of the fence, to rest himself.

"Pray, don't go away yet," called Minnie; "I want to know if all squirrels talk, or what you did to learn."

Down the squirrel jumped into the gra.s.s, pulled the blades apart with his paws, and smelt of this weed and that, till at last he found what seemed to satisfy him, for he broke off a sprig, and went back to his seat on the fence.

"Minnie, how should you like to live with us?" he said. "We have good times, I tell you, out in the woods. We do nothing but chatter, and eat, and fly about, all day long. We haven't any master, and the whole world's our play-ground; the deep earth is our cellar; the sun is our lamp and stove."

"But I should frighten the squirrels, I'm so large!" and Minnie stood on tip-toe, to let him see what a great girl--as indeed she was, beside a squirrel!

"The same weed that made me talk like a little girl, will make you grow small as a squirrel. Do you dare to taste it?" and he tossed the green sprig into Minnie's lap.

"Dare? yes, indeed! who's afraid?" She ate the leaves at a mouthful.

CHAPTER V.

A SQUIRREL-BACK RIDE.

Minnie had only half believed what the squirrel said, and was surprised and almost frightened when she felt herself growing smaller in every limb. Did you ever drop a kid glove into boiling water? It will keep its former shape, but shrink together so as to be hardly large enough for a doll. Thus Minnie's whole form shrank, until she was no taller than squirrel himself, and not half so stout, and her hands were as tiny as his paws.

"Now we'll have plenty of fun," said squirrel; and they started together for the woods.

But Minnie walked so slowly, with her little feet, that her guide soon lost his patience. He would dart on out of sight, and come back for her, again and again; he would wait to eat nuts, and dig holes in the ground to bury some against winter-time; and still Minnie, for all her hurrying, lagged behind.

At last squirrel said, "This will never do; seat yourself on my back, and I'll carry you faster than any steam-car that ever you saw. Here we go!"

It was a pretty sight--the little rider and her frisky steed, bounding so gracefully over the road. They had not gone far, however, when Minnie called,

"O, squirrel, pray, pray stop!"

"What's the trouble now?"

"You go so fast it takes away my breath, and the underbrush all but scratches my eyes out; and the gra.s.s is full of bugs and ugly caterpillars, that stretch their cold claws to catch at me as I go past."

"Is that all?" He darted by a post, along the fence-rails, and up the trunk of a tree, and into the leafy boughs. But now it was the squirrel's turn to complain.

"Don't pull at my ears so hard! Why, my eyes are half out of my head!

It is bad enough to carry such a load!"

"But, dear squirrel, I shall tumble off! Here we are, away up in the air, higher than any house, and you skip and leap, and scramble so, it frightens me out of my wits."

"Jump off a minute, then; I know a better way to carry you."

No sooner had Minnie obeyed, than he was out of sight. With one spring, he had leaped to the bough of a taller tree;--and now would he ever come back?

It made her dizzy to look down. It seemed further than ever to the ground, now, she had grown so small. And the insects that crept and flew around her looked so large! A great mosquito came buzzing about with his poisoned bill, and then a hard-backed beetle trolled past, and two or three fat ants. And a bird alighted on the bough, and began to sing.

Minnie drew down a broad leaf to hide her face, for she felt afraid that the bird would think her some kind of bug, and eat her up. Perhaps he meant to do so, for he kept hopping nearer and nearer as he sang.

"O, how I wish I were at home!" thought Minnie. "Perhaps my mother is looking for me now; and Franky has been standing ever so long at the fence, with the half of his cake that he promised to save for me. How could that old squirrel be so wicked as to leave me here alone?"

Still the bird hopped nearer, and eyed her as he sang, and looked as if his mouth were watering for a taste.

"I shall be killed and eaten up by ants and worms if I fall to the ground," thought Minnie; "or, even if I reached it alive, I could never, never find the way home, with these small, slow feet. Let the robin eat me, then."

But now came a rustling amongst the leaves, and a chirping, chattering sound, and, lo! her friend the squirrel frisked into sight. He seemed to be quarrelling with the bird, for she half spread her wings, and stretched her beak as if she could bite him; and squirrel chattered and chuckled at her, and his bright brown eyes flashed with anger, till the robin flew away.

"A moment later, Minnie, and you would have been changed into a song.

That saucy fellow meant to eat you for his luncheon," said squirrel.

"Now, don't complain that I went away; if you do, I shall go again. We never allow any grumbling out here in the woods."

"Yet they allow quarrelling, and murder, and mischief of many kinds, I see," thought Minnie; "but as I've come so far, I will not go home without learning how birds and squirrels live."

CHAPTER VI.

LIVING IN A TREE.