wandering down the road, might be tempted to rest a while in the shade
of a great tree that stood near the center of the little clearing. The
stumps of the other forest beauties that had once, like this tree,
tossed their branches in the sunlight were still holding the places
that God had given them and made fine seats for the girls or bases for
the boys when they played ball at recess or noon. And often, when the
shouting youngsters had been called from their sports by the rapping
of the teacher's ruler at the door and only the busy hum of their
childish voices came floating through the open windows, a venturesome
squirrel or a saucy chipmunk would creep stealthily along the fence,
stopping now and then to sit bolt upright with tail in air to look and
listen. Then suddenly, at sight of a laughing face at the window or
the appearance of some boy who had gained the coveted permission to
get a bucket of water, the little visitor would whisk away again like
a flash and, with a warning chatter to his mate, would seek safety
among the leaves and branches of the forest only to reappear once more
when all was quiet until, at last, made bold by many trials, he would
leap from the fence and scamper across the yard to take possession of
the tallest stump as though he himself were a schoolboy. Sometimes a
crow, after carefully watching the place for a little while from a
safe position on the fence across the road, would fly quietly down to
look for choice bits dropped from the dinner baskets of the children.
Or again, a long, lazy, black snake would crawl across the yard to
search for the little mice that lived in the foundation of the house
and in the corners of the fence. Or, perhaps, a chicken hawk, that had
been sailing on outstretched wings in ever narrowing circles, would
drop from the blue sky to claim his share of the plunder only to be
frightened away again by the sound of the teacher's voice raised in
sharp rebuke of some mischievous urchin.