Little Mitchell: The Story of a Mountain Squirrel

by Margaret Warner Morley

He looked so funny, hopping up and down, and he was having such a glorious time, that his lady did not like to end it, and waited ever so long; but as he kept on hopping, and showed no sign of ever going to stop, she finally got under the bed and captured him.

You see he had found something new to do, and he was as excited over it as a child is over a new and delightful game. When the lady put him in his box, he squirmed and screamed; and when she fastened the cover down, he cried and scratched to get out. It was too bad,—but what else could the lady do? She did not want to stay shut up in her room all day, and she dared not leave him alone for fear some one might open the door and a cat get in.

But he was really tired by this time; and when he found that crying and scratching did no good, he curled up and went to sleep. When the lady peeped into the room before going off, he was as quiet as a mouse; and when she returned, he was still sound asleep in his little box.

Now about hopping,—that is the way grown squirrels get over the ground, in little jumps; and Baby Mitchell was growing every day, not only in size but in squirrel habits. How do you suppose he knew about hopping, when he had never seen a squirrel hop? And how do you suppose he knew about sitting up and holding his nuts in his hands, when he had never seen a squirrel do these things? And how do you suppose he knew about washing his face after the funny manner of the squirrel folk, when he had never seen another squirrel do it?

I cannot tell you how he knew all these things; but he did know them, and as he grew older, more and more squirrel habits came to him, as you shall see.

The lady stayed at Blowing Rock only a few days; then one morning she and Little Mitchell started off down the long winding road in a carriage,—and this was the end of their life in the mountains.

At the end of that drive they got onto a railway train, and went a little way, and then changed to another train,—only they had to wait a long time between trains.

Little Mitchell’s lady was very sorry for him now, because you see he was getting big enough to run about, and he had to take this long journey all shut up in his little box.

But when they got to the station where they had to wait so long, she opened his box, and out he came. He ran all over her as fast as he could go, even jumping from her shoulder to the top of her head, and played with her hair, which she told him was naughty. Then he jumped down and ran all around the tops of the benches, for there was nobody else in the waiting-room.