There were plenty of nuts in the attic of Farmer Green's house, where
Frisky Squirrel found himself a prisoner. And you might think that he
wouldn't have felt so unhappy to be there. But Frisky was unhappy. He
was so frightened that he crept into a corner and stayed there,
shivering, for a long time. And he couldn't have eaten a single one of
those nuts if he had tried. He wanted to be free. He wanted to be out
of doors. He wanted to go home.

After a time the storm passed. The wind stopped blowing. And the sun
shone again. But nobody came to the attic to open the window. When it
grew quite light Frisky did not feel so frightened. And at last he
crept out of his corner and went nosing about the room, hoping to find
a hole big enough to squeeze through.

Now, you must not think Frisky Squirrel was stupid, when I tell you
that the door was open all this time. It was open just the smallest
crack, for Farmer Green's wife hadn't quite closed it when she went
downstairs. Frisky had been too frightened to notice it. Besides, the
attic had been dark, you know.

Well, when Frisky found that crack he was the happiest little fellow
you ever saw. It was only a narrow opening; but he slipped through it.
And there he was, right at the head of the stairs! So downstairs he
hurried. The door below was wide open. And in less time than it takes
to tell the story, Frisky was in Farmer Green's kitchen. He remembered
that room very well, for he had been there when he came to taste that
white-frosted cake.

But this time Frisky did not stop to look for any cake. He just
scampered across the floor toward the wide doorway. And as he bounded