“They had been getting their baskets all ready for Easter sales, and had them in rows on a big table—such cute-looking little Japanese baskets, they were, all red and yellow and filled with layers of nuts and candy.
“This day both ladies went downtown to buy more things for more baskets, and Squirrie got into the room and began playing with those that were finished. I saw him through the window, but what could I do? When I chirped to him that he was a bad beast to spoil the work of the two ladies who had been so good to him, he chattered his teeth and made a face at me.
“Now, if he had just played with one or two baskets, it would not have mattered so much, but he is like Silly Bob in cherry time.”
“Who is Silly Bob?” I asked.
“A robin who is weak in his head. Instead of eating a few cherries, he runs all over a tree, and gives each cherry a dab in the cheek—ruins them all and makes the gardeners furious with him. Squirrie ran up and down the rows of tempting-looking baskets, so afraid was he that he could not get all his mischief in before the ladies came back. He bit a few straws on the top of each one, then he attacked the sides and then the bottom. Then he tore the covers off and threw the candy and nuts on the floor.”
“What! Out of every one?” I asked, in a shocked voice.
“Every one, I tell you. Oh, they were a sight! Every basket was ruined. The nuts he carried off to his hole in the tree.”
“And what did the poor ladies say when they came back?” I asked.
“You should have seen their faces. They had paid fifty cents apiece for the baskets, and you know how expensive nuts and candies and raisins are. Then they got angry and hired a carpenter to come and nail up Squirrie’s hole in the tree, taking good care to see that he was out of it first. If he went near the house, they threw things at him.”
“And what did Squirrie do?”