Of course, Frisky Squirrel and his mother couldn't find their dinner
on the tree the whole year 'round--because it was only in the fall that
there were nuts on it. But luckily there were other things to eat--such
as seeds, of which there were many kinds in the woods. And then there
was Farmer Green's wheat--and his corn, too, which Frisky liked most of
all.
The woods where Mrs. Squirrel and her son lived were full of the
finest trees to climb that anybody could wish for. And Frisky loved to
go leaping from branch to branch, and from tree to tree. He was so
fearless that he would scamper far out on the ends of the smallest
limbs. But no matter how much they bent and swayed beneath his weight,
he was never afraid; in fact, that was part of the fun.
As she watched Frisky whisking about among the trees, now swinging on
this branch, now leaping far out to that one, Mrs. Squirrel sometimes
wondered how he could keep dashing about so madly. Though the old lady
was pretty spry, herself, she was content to sit still _some_ of the
time. But Frisky Squirrel was almost never still except when he was
asleep. There was so much to do! Frisky wished that the days were
longer, for though he tried his hardest, he couldn't climb _all_ the
trees in the forest. Each night he had to give up his task, only to
begin all over again the next morning. If there had been nothing to do
but _climb_ the trees Frisky would have been able to climb more of
them. But there were other things that took time.
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