“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.
Caught in the attic