“You are welcome,” replied the gopher. “I, too, have learned from you, so we have been mutually helped. I never knew before that it is wrong to engage in any kind of sport that gives pain to another. Henceforth I will never tease a turtle or take a ride on his back.”
“I must go,” declared Tiny, rising from his downy couch.
“Stay longer,” pleaded the gopher. “The moon rises early, and—”
“That is no reason why I should go to bed late,” interrupted Tiny. “My teacher may worry about me. Goodby, Mr. Gopher.”
“Goodby. You must come back,” replied the gopher sleepily.
Before Tiny could reach the door, his acquaintance with the pockets in his cheeks was fast asleep.
The little red squirrel’s heart beat with joy and thankfulness when the dewy air, laden with the sweet fragrance of early summer, again greeted his nostrils. With nimble leaps he made his way through the leaf-strewn pathway to the edge of the crystal stream. Before him lay the quaint beaver houses that had become so dear to him, while beyond, the pink western skies faded softly into gray, like the happy days of his youth.