Chapter 3

When Mr. Crow said that, Frisky believed him. Mr. Crow was so old, and so wise, and so solemn, that Frisky thought that anything he said must be true.

"I'm going past Farmer Green's house right now," Mr. Crow told Frisky. "I have a little matter to attend to over in the cornfield. And if you want to come along with me I don't mind stopping to show you where the butternuts are. But of course if you're afraid--" Mr. Crow stopped to cough. He buttoned his coat closer around his throat. And then he looked sideways at Frisky Squirrel.

"Afraid!" Frisky exclaimed. "I'm not afraid at all."

"Good!" said Mr. Crow. "Now, then, young fellow! You skip along over to Farmer Green's and I'll be waiting for you down the road a bit."

Old Mr. Crow flapped himself away then. And Frisky Squirrel hurried off in a straight line for the farmhouse.

XVI

Caught in the Attic

Long before Frisky Squirrel reached Farmer Green's place, he began to worry for fear Mr. Crow had grown tired of waiting for him. To be sure, he knew that the butternuts were up in the attic. But to tell the truth, Frisky felt uneasy about visiting the farmhouse. And he hoped that Mr. Crow would show him just how to get through the attic window, as he had promised.

Just as he came in sight of the farmhouse Frisky heard Mr. Crow calling to him from a tall tree close by the road. He was glad to hear the old gentleman's husky voice. And he couldn't help thinking how kind Mr. Crow was, and how mistaken his mother had been to believe that Mr. Crow liked to get folks into trouble.

"Come on!" said Mr. Crow, as Frisky paused beneath the tall tree. "I'm going to fly over to that tree right next the farmhouse. You run along the stone-wall and climb up beside me."

"Now, then!" said Mr. Crow a few minutes later, when Frisky had joined him. "There's the window--wide open. And there are the butternuts, lying on the floor."

Frisky could see great heaps of nuts. And without another word he crept out on a limb that brushed the window-sill and in another moment he was inside Farmer Green's attic. Frisky forgot to thank Mr. Crow. He never once thought of that, he was in such a hurry to taste those nuts.

He just ate and ate and ate; and he was so busy cracking the nuts and picking out the meats that he never noticed that it was growing dark.

At last, to his astonishment, the attic door opened. Frisky leaped behind a pile of butternuts and hid, while someone walked across the floor. Then there was a bang. And Frisky shivered when he heard it. But the person left the attic at once and went downstairs.

Frisky Squirrel breathed easily again. And he stole out from behind the pile of nuts. Somehow, he did not care to eat any more. He wanted to get out of the house. So he went to the window. And then Frisky Squirrel was really frightened. The window was shut!

You see, while Frisky was so busy eating butternuts, a storm was gathering. And it grew so dark, and the wind howled so shrilly, that Farmer Green's wife thought she had better shut the attic window, to keep the rain from beating in.

How Frisky Squirrel did wish he had minded his mother and kept away from old Mr. Crow! Poor Frisky looked out through the little square panes of glass. His friend Mr. Crow was nowhere to be seen. Frisky had hoped that the old gentleman would be waiting for him, and that since Mr. Crow had told him how to get inside the attic he would be able to tell him how to get out again.

The wind swept the branches of the tall tree back and forth across the window. How easy it would have been--if the window had been open--to hop out upon one of those swaying limbs! Frisky pressed his soft little body close against the glass and pushed as hard as he could. But he couldn't break out of his prison. It was a queer thing--that glass! He could see through it just as if there was nothing there; and yet it held him fast. Frisky could not understand it.

XVII

Farmer Green's Cat

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 across the room something sprang out from behind the stove and started after him.

Frisky Squirrel saw that some animal had leaped at him. He didn't stop to take a good look; but he supposed that it was a small dog that had been drying himself by the fire. Frisky knew that dogs couldn't climb trees. So he sprang through the door, never touching the big stone doorstep at all, and hurried toward a tree in Farmer Green's yard. He laughed as he scurried up the tree-trunk. And then he looked down at his enemy.

Then Frisky Squirrel's heart almost stood still. That small animal was coming right up the tree after him! Of course, it wasn't a dog at all. It was Farmer Green's cat. Frisky had never seen a cat before and he began to wonder whether the small creature could fly, as well as climb trees. He scampered to the top of the tree; and then he leaped upon a branch of another tree close by.

No! The small animal could not fly. She climbed as high as she dared. And then she stopped. Her eyes glared fiercely; and her tail grew as big as Frisky's own. But that didn't help her at all. She could only sit there and watch Frisky Squirrel as he dropped from branch to branch, until she lost sight of him among the leaves.

XVIII

The Threshing-machine

One day, late in the summer, Frisky Squirrel saw something that caused him great excitement. Right into the center of one of Farmer Green's fields he saw Farmer Green's horses drag a queer sort of wagon. It was bigger than any other wagon he had ever seen, and had wheels upon it in all sorts of strange places, instead of just at the four corners, like all the wagons he had ever noticed before.

Frisky climbed a tree, in order to get a better view of what was happening. As he watched, he saw still another odd wagon hauled upon the field alongside the first one. This wagon carried a broad walk which led from the back and went right up what you might call a hill, to the front of the wagon. And there it stopped, with a wooden bar blocking the way. Frisky Squirrel thought that that was the strangest path he had ever seen, for it seemed to lead to nowhere, and why it should have a bar at the top, to keep anyone from going nowhere at all, was more than even his lively mind could puzzle out.

In and out and about these strange wagons were as many as a dozen men, and one boy--each of them as busy as he could be. And as for the boy, Johnnie Green, he was busier than anybody else. He seemed to be everywhere at once, and in everybody's way. And Frisky couldn't see that he was doing anything at all. But he noticed that Johnnie appeared to be having a fine time.

As Frisky Squirrel looked down upon this unusual sight from his perch in the tree he saw that Farmer Green's wagons--the kind Frisky had often seen before--were bringing up sheaves of wheat. And pretty soon--and this made Frisky's eyes almost pop out of his head--he saw a man lead a pair of horses up that short, steep walk and tie them to the bar at the top of it.

Then the horses began to walk. Now, probably you wouldn't think there was anything strange about that. But there was. The odd thing about that was that although the horses walked, they didn't get anywhere at all. So far as Frisky Squirrel could see, they just walked and walked, and that was all there was to it. After they had walked for a long time they still stayed right in the same place, tied fast to the wooden bar in front of them.

Now, when the horses were walking, the other wagon began to set up a great noise. It reminded Frisky of the time the gristmill began to grind, when he thought the world was coming to an end. Those queer wheels on the wagon began to turn, too. But Frisky didn't pay much attention to them. What caught his eye and kept him puzzling was those two horses, always walking, but never going anywhere.

Frisky Squirrel stayed in his tree as long as he could, until at last he simply had to hurry home and beg his mother to come over to the field with him.

As it happened, Mrs. Squirrel was not very busy that day, so she dropped her knitting, or whatever it was that she was doing, and pretty soon she and Frisky were up in the tree that he had climbed before.

"Oh! they're threshing!" Mrs. Squirrel said, after she had taken one good look at what was going on. "They're threshing out the wheat-kernels, so the miller can grind them into flour."

"But those horses--" said Frisky. "Why is it that they don't walk right against that bar, and break it, and tumble off onto the ground?"

"That's a horse-power," Mrs. Squirrel explained. "The path the horses are treading on moves, and that's why they stay right in the same place. The path moves 'round and 'round all the time, like a broad chain. That's what makes the wheels turn on the threshing-machine."

"It must be fun," said Frisky Squirrel. "I wish I could be a horse, and make that horse-power turn like that."

"Nonsense!" said his mother. "You'd soon grow tired of it."

But Frisky Squirrel knew better.

XIX

Frisky's Prison

Frisky Squirrel simply couldn't keep away from the field where the wheat was being threshed. He was on hand before the men came in the morning, and he was the last to leave the place at night. He ate all his meals right on the spot, and went home only to sleep.

Now, it was not long before Johnnie Green spied Frisky Squirrel loitering about the field. And he made up his mind that that young squirrel was altogether too bold. So Johnnie Green rigged up a trap, which he made from an old box, a few sticks, and a bit of string. And one noon, while the men were eating their lunch under some trees a little way from the threshing-machine, Frisky Squirrel was just reckless enough to steal up and try to get his luncheon too, by eating some of the wheat-kernels. He noticed a tempting little heap of kernels, right beside a little box. And he had just stopped to eat them when all at once the box toppled over on him, and there he was--caught!

When Johnnie Green discovered that he had captured that young squirrel he was just as glad as Frisky was sorry and frightened. That, you see, is just the difference between _catching_ and _being caught_. It makes a great difference whether you are outside the trap, or in it. And Frisky Squirrel was in it. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get away.

He made up his mind that if anybody tried to lift him out of the box he would bite him. But Johnnie Green had caught squirrels before. He pulled on a pair of heavy gloves, and all Frisky's biting did no good--or harm--at all.

When Johnnie reached home he put his prize into a neat little wire cage. As soon as Frisky found himself inside it he looked all around, to see if there wasn't some opening big enough to squeeze through. And sure enough! there was a little door. And in a twinkling Frisky had popped himself through it and had started to run.

He ran and ran. But strange to say, all his running took him nowhere at all. At first he couldn't discover what was the matter. But after a while he saw that he was inside a broad wheel, made of wire. And when he ran the wheel simply spun 'round and 'round.

He stopped running then. For he thought of the horses that made the horse-power go. He was in just the same fix that they were in. He could run as fast as he pleased, but he would still stay right there inside the wheel.

Poor Frisky Squirrel crept back into his cage. He remembered what his mother had said, when he wished he could be a horse, and make the tread-mill go. "You'd soon grow tired of it," she had told him.

At the time, Frisky hadn't believed her. But now he knew that his mother was wiser than he was. And he wondered if he was ever going to see her again.

XX

Johnnie Green Forgets Something

Although Johnnie Green took good care of Frisky Squirrel, that once lively young chap did not like his new home in the wire cage at all. His young master gave him plenty to eat--nuts and grain--all the things that Frisky had always liked before. But now nothing tasted the same. Frisky never felt really hungry. He just sat in his cage and moped and sulked.

Once in a great while he would go out into his wheel, and run and run until he was so tired that he was ready to drop. Whenever Johnnie Green saw him running inside the wheel that young man would laugh aloud--he was so pleased.

But nothing ever pleased Frisky Squirrel any more. He grew peevish and cross and sulky. Being cooped up in that little wire prison day after day made an entirely different squirrel of him. He longed to be free once more--free to scamper through the tree-tops, and along the stone-walls and the rail-fences. And at night he dreamed of hunting for beechnuts, and chestnuts, and hickorynuts, on which he would feast to his heart's content--in his dreams. But in the daytime, when his young master put some of those very same nuts into his cage, Frisky would hardly touch them. He lost his plumpness. His smooth coat grew rough. And his tail--that beautiful tail that Jimmy Rabbit had tried to cut off--alas! it was no longer beautiful. It was thin and ragged-looking.

At last Johnnie Green began to be worried about his pet squirrel. And one day when Frisky refused to eat a single nut Johnnie Green thought that he must be really ill. So he opened the door of the cage, which he always kept carefully fastened, and forgetting all about his thick gloves he put his hand inside the little wire house, picked Frisky up by the back of his neck, just as if he were a kitten, and lifted him out of his prison.

Johnnie wanted to see if he could find out what was the trouble with the little fellow. He thought that perhaps he had a bad tooth, which prevented his eating. And Johnnie tried to look inside of Frisky's mouth.

At first Frisky kept perfectly still. He could hardly believe that he was outside that horrid, cramped cage. But it was true! And when Johnnie Green began to poke at his mouth with a bare finger Frisky Squirrel thought that it was high time for him to do something.

So he did it. He didn't wait another second. Quick as a flash he sank his sharp teeth into Johnnie Green's finger.

Poor Johnnie Green! He gave such a yell that you could have heard him far away on the other side of Swift River. That was the first thing he did. And the next thing that Johnnie did was to drop Frisky right on the ground.

That was exactly what Frisky wanted. He no sooner touched the ground than he was away like a shot. It was not at all like running inside the wheel. Every leap carried him further away from Farmer Green's house. And he had crossed the road and disappeared behind the stone-wall before Johnnie Green knew what had happened.

For several days after that Johnnie Green had to keep his finger bound up in a bandage. And he felt very sad at losing his pet squirrel.

But Frisky Squirrel was not sad at all. And neither was his mother. At first, when Frisky tumbled inside her house she hardly knew him. For a long time she had almost stopped believing he would ever come home again. And now that he had come he was so changed that she could scarcely believe it was he.

The first thing that Mrs. Squirrel did was to set before Frisky some choice seeds which she had gathered that very day. And Frisky ate every one of them. You see, he had found his appetite again.

For several days after that Frisky Squirrel did very little except eat. And it was surprising--the way he began to grow fat. His sides soon stuck out more than they ever had before, and his coat began to grow sleek and shiny. And as for his tail--though it took longer for _that_ to look beautiful again, in the course of time it became just as thick and handsome as ever. Mrs. Squirrel was very glad of that. For Frisky reminded her of his father once more.

XXI

That Disagreeable Freddie Weasel

Almost everybody liked Frisky Squirrel, he was such a happy little fellow. But there were a few of the forest-people with whom Frisky never was able to make friends. _They_ were the disagreeable, selfish kind, who never liked anyone except themselves.

Freddie Weasel was one of the few with whom Frisky Squirrel never could have a good time. Frisky often tried to play with him. But their games always ended in trouble; and I must say that it was not Frisky's fault.

Now, Frisky had often heard it said among his neighbors that no one had ever caught Freddie Weasel asleep. Indeed, Jimmy Rabbit claimed that Freddie Weasel never slept at all.

That seemed very strange to Frisky. He could hardly believe it. And he made up his mind that he would watch Freddie Weasel and see whether it was really true.

So one evening, just after sundown, when Frisky met Freddie Weasel in the woods, he thought it would be a good time to spy upon him. Of course it wasn't at all a polite thing to do. But Frisky was very curious. And anyhow, he meant no harm.

"Hello, Freddie!" he said, as he came face to face with the sly, slim chap.

"Hello, yourself!" said Freddie Weasel in a disagreeable tone.

"Where you going?" Frisky inquired pleasantly enough.

"Never you mind," Freddie Weasel answered. "And you'd better keep out of my way, or I'll bite your head off."

Frisky Squirrel didn't know what to say. Very few people--except Jasper Jay and one or two other quarrelsome forest-folk--had ever spoken to him like that. So he just stood still and stared.

That seemed to make Freddie angrier than ever. He darted toward Frisky and tried to bite his neck. But Frisky was quick, too. He ran up a tree before Freddie Weasel could catch him, and smiled at the bad-tempered fellow.

"You'd better go home and take a nap," Frisky told him. "You're crosser than ever to-day."

Freddie looked up at Frisky as if he would just like to get hold of him for about one second.

"I never sleep," he said. "I'm always awake. And some night when you're dreaming, I'm coming to your house and I'm going to eat you." And then he hurried away.

Frisky Squirrel ran down the tree and dashed after Freddie. He didn't make any noise at all. And he was careful not to let Freddie see him. He was going to find out for himself whether Freddie stayed awake all night.

Mrs. Squirrel was worried because Frisky didn't come home. Of course he ought to have let her know what he was about. But he felt that he mustn't lose sight of Freddie. And he saw no one at all by whom he could send word to his mother as to where he was and what he was doing.

Frisky had the busiest sort of time following Freddie. It grew so dark that it was very hard to see Freddie Weasel as he sneaked along through the bushes, hunting for small birds that build their nests on the ground.

Freddie Weasel caught several sleeping birds. And Frisky could not help being sorry for them. He began to feel very guilty for having teased them, and for having eaten their eggs.

Finally it grew so dark that Frisky had just about decided that he would have to give up spying on Freddie and hurry home, when he saw Freddie slip into a hole in a bank and vanish.

Was Freddie Weasel at last going to bed and to sleep?

XXII

Catching Freddie Weasel Asleep

When Frisky Squirrel saw Freddie Weasel disappear in the hole in the bank he became greatly excited. He forgot all about going home. And though he had begun to feel somewhat sleepy, he was wide awake again in no time. He sat right down, a little way from the hole, and he never once took his eyes off it.

Frisky hoped that perhaps he would hear Freddie snoring in there, if he waited long enough. But no such thing happened. There seemed to be but one way to discover whether Freddie was asleep, and _that_ was to creep into the hole himself and find out.

Now, Frisky Squirrel was no coward, as you know. But he did not like the idea of crawling into that narrow, dark place. He knew that Freddie Weasel's teeth were very sharp. And he knew that Freddie was quick to use them, too.

Frisky was trying hard to think of some good way to catch Freddie asleep, when who should come strolling along but Henry Skunk! Frisky always supposed that he was called "Henry" because he was so fond of _hens_--for he visited Farmer Green's hen-house oftener than any other of the forest-people--but whether _that_ was why he was so named I should really not want to say.

"Well, well! You're out pretty late," Henry Skunk called, as soon as he saw Frisky.

Frisky Squirrel held a paw to his mouth, so Henry Skunk would not talk too loudly.

"What's going on?" Henry Skunk asked, with growing interest. "You haven't seen a hen around here, have you?"

Frisky shook his head.

"It's Freddie Weasel--" he explained, pointing at the hole. "He's in there; and I'm trying to catch him asleep."

Henry Skunk came nearer.

"Why don't you go inside?" he asked.

Frisky shook his head again.

"I don't see very well in the dark," he said, "and I'd rather not."

Henry nodded.

"I can see first rate at night," he told Frisky. "I'll find out for you if Freddie Weasel is asleep. And if he is, I'll come right back and tell you, and then you can go in with me and see for yourself."

"Good!" said Frisky. "That's very kind of you, I'm sure."

So Henry Skunk walked up to the hole. It was entirely too small for him to enter.

"I'll have to make it bigger," he remarked.

"Won't Freddie hear you?" Frisky Squirrel inquired.

"I'll be very quiet about it," Henry Skunk replied. "So if he's asleep I hardly think I'll disturb him." And at that Henry set to work.

Now, in order to dig, he had to stick his head into the hole. But he knew he could see Freddie Weasel if Freddie tried to bite his nose; so Henry was not afraid. How he did make the dirt fly! Frisky wished that he could dig like that. He thought it must be great fun. And he watched Henry so closely that he never saw that slim, sneaking form that crept up behind him. And when Frisky felt something jump right on top of him, and when a terrible, sharp pain seized his shoulder, he was scared half out of his wits.

It was Freddie Weasel! He had left his home through another hole, which Frisky knew nothing about.

Frisky Squirrel called for help. He shouted Henry Skunk's name again and again, as he rolled over and over on the ground, trying to shake Freddie off his back.