He flushed at that.
A chipmunk, proud of his gaily striped fur coat, was showing off on the anvil. "Cheep?" said he disdainfully.
"Cheep," said I, to pass the time of day.
"Cheep!" Polite, but hurried, he found just time to curl his dainty tail up his furry back to please me.
"Cheep! Cheep!" said I, and he scampered up my boot-leg expecting lunch.
"How's the nut business, eh? Cheep?"
"Oh, if that's all!" He scampered back to the anvil, then turned and swore at me.
The distant clang of a hammer now noticeably ceased, and Broach, a muddy little man with a putty face, came out from the tunnel, crossed to the shack and went in. Presently there was dinner smoke at the chimney, while from the tunnel came fainter sounds of tapping, then thumping, then silence, and Shorty came running out. A volley of stones came flying after him, the hillside quivered, and smoke poured from the tunnel.
Rams had picked up a thick, short yellow stick like barley sugar with the feel of wax.
"Give that to me," said I in a sharp whisper.