trees, and leap from bough to bough, and how to drop in time of danger
on their outspread little feet and bushy tails, and so save themselves
from injury.

And, curiously enough, one day Siccatee came across the same Horrible
Humans that had caused her so much trouble the year before. They were
both a little taller and broader, but that they were the same there
could be no doubt. Siccatee found out that they came to the house at
the foot of the hill every year, and very sorry she was, for it was
only last year that they had spoiled one of her best storehouses.

This year something far more terrible happened. Of all her four
children, Siccatee loved best of all little Graycoat, who was
certainly a very beautiful baby squirrel. He was so soft and fluffy;
had such a beautiful, silvery gray tail; such pretty, delicate feet
and limbs, and neat, small head, with bright little eyes that were
never still for a single moment.

Now, Graycoat was fond of wandering off by himself--being a bit of a
dreamer--and one beautiful day he happened in some extraordinary way
to jump right into the lap of one of the Humans, who were sitting
there in the woods.

It was the lap of the little girl, and in an instant she had thrown
her apron over Graycoat and he was a prisoner.

In vain he cried and shrieked for his mother, and in vain she answered
from the bough above, chattering and scolding and calling him
beseechingly in most piteous tones. But the little girl kept tight
hold and carried poor Graycoat to the house at the foot of the hill,